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Now I realize that CYS is a story telling site, but considering how many authors and writers there are hear, I felt that this was a good place to post some of my poetry. I'm not a professional poet, nor a good one, but I would like to get better. So I was thinking that I should post one of my poems on the site, and request constructive criticism. (The poem is long, sorry about that)

They hint to him,

They show him the true path,

In song, do they cry out,

And they are always right,

For without them,

The silent spring would follow,

And human folly will fly.

They lie without fear,

They simply lead, and are followed,

They sing out in song, when they wish,

And are gawking when they are harsh,

And the whole world would weep.

They chase those whose words disagree,

And clash those who say to the contrary.

They are sympathetic to none,

And yet get the sympathy all want,

And some watch with amazement,

As the crows get their meal,

From onlookers nearby.

The birds sing,

And the crows gawk,

A beautiful symphony of the great,

For while the Crows are gawking,

None pay attention to what the birds are paying.

The crows hide their face,

And sing the songs of the birds, no matter how off tune,

And get applause according to what they’ve done,

A magnificent showing of false effort,

And the birds are chased away.

The birds, singing without pressure,

Insult the crows, expecting to get by with talent,

And not pure pressure that the crows give,

To us to love the crows, and hate the song of the birds.

Oh how cruel are these birds!

That expect others to listen to their voices,

And turn away from the crows,

Who are simply gawking,

And start shining.

What do the birds expect?

That we shall insult the crows?

That we shall hurt their feeling,

That we deserve better?

That we listen to their warnings?

That we shouldn't consider ourselves better,

Simply since we listen to the rhythm that has no rhythm.

The crows do sing,

Even when they feed,

For they are singing about their leeching,

And that is a song, for what is a song

But an escape from realities truthful pains?

And the crows are beautiful,

Since they flare up when ignored.

For we are imagining truths.

And what is imagination

But a hope that is purely false?

“I was not allowed to do well” the crows may say, in a gawking sound

or they may say that life was too harsh,

That their singing was good,

And we are just ignorant to see,

The magnificent tunes leaving the crowing sound,

On the stage.

I fear what has become of the birds,

For they have fled south,
For we didn't hear,

We just saw what we wanted to hear.

You cannot see sounds,

Nor hear sights,

But the spring will come again,

And the birds will returns,

And we will get a chance to hear their singing,

Or we shall settle for the crows.

I would love for some feedback on this. I want to write some poetry but I don't have a group of diverse people where I live. Most don't understand, and the ones that do understand tend to agree with me on everything. 

Sorry for being a yes men but I liked it. 

Thank you. Can you explain why? I wanted to write a poem without a single explanation to the metaphor, what did you think the metaphor ment? Also, was the length too long? I tend to write long poems, but I dont know of thats what people like.

Length doesn't matter, and im still trying to find the right words to explain why I liked it, and what I think it means.

I'm always worried about length of lines and such. In sonnets, which is what Shakespeare wrote in, it is complicated. It took me 3 days to fit in all the right words for one of our classes assignments. But some people get discouraged after seeing a huge block of text. But I agree that length doesnt always matter. My favorite poem is "The Bells" and "Elderado" by Edgar Allan Poe, so I tend to gnome length as long as the poem is any good.

It was too small for me to read without a headache after staring at pixilated images too intensely.

Just copy and paste it into your reply. Sorry about that

If I wanted a full analysis, it would be easier for the reader to read this in stanzas.  It's harder for me when they are not separated into stanzas, and making the font a tad bit larger would be really great!

I don't really understand the transition from when we were talking about birds, and then jump into crows.  It's a bit sudden, and the transition doesn't seem smooth  That's my opinion, but who am I to judge?

Yeah, originally I had it in stanzas, but I wanted to conserve space. It was too Lang otherwise. And thanks for the thought. I haven't done a transition like that before, I was trying to have the birds appear and leave, while the crows took over and such. I haven't used animals (and certainly more then one) in a poem before, it was a change. I usually used ideas or intimate objects for personification.

A great idea for transition, but I don't many words that describes the absence of birds and the rising of crows.

I mentioned that the birds were chased away once, but it's hard to understand since its all in one big glob of text. Usually you can sort out begginings to stanza with a period. But, I definitely have much to learn, which is why I posted it here. Thanks!

Not to mention that I am a horrible critic and I haven't read any poetry for the past few months...

I don't know, I wrote it on a whim, to be honest. But what do you think it means? Most people won't have a single answer. I planned it to mean multiple stuff. 

Thank You! I was worried since I was having a trouble writing this one, usually I'm able to get a poem planned out in 10 minutes, but I tried what I usually do, which is to write about my life, but I wasn't able to get a good vibe with that. This took about an hour to plan put, and about another hour to write it down, and 30 minutes to edit and rewrite whatever I disliked. (Which was nearly the whole poem, except the last 8-10 lines.)

Honestly, I took a bit of personal meaning with the poem, so obviously it would just be my own interpretation rather than any guess at correct meaning... 

But, to me the birds are Hope or perhaps the Oppressed? and the crows are Oppressors. The crows take credit for everything the birds do, they push the birds away, and they demand everything be handed to them for whatever reason strikes their fancy. They don't care who they hurt to get what they want and will lie in order to appear in whatever way they want others to see them. If the birds don't fly away, then the crows will eventually blot them out. But, the birds that escape have the chance to rise up and have control over their own future again.

Another meaning I saw which is kind of similar was maybe the crows are Government and the birds are the common People? The crows live the high life off the birds hard work, taking all the credit for it. They constantly paint themselves as something that they are no, trying to appear beautiful when they are ugly.

I thought it might be that type of thing too, but I was unsure because this line threw me off a bit.

“I was not allowed to do well” the crows may say, in a gawking sound

or they may say that life was too harsh,

Those lines are the excuses the crows give for why they aren't good in our eyes. 

That's actually the line that made me relate the Crows to people who oppress others. They always come up with excuses and lies to justify themselves. It's sort of like a celebrity being caught doing hardcore drugs and blaming it on their fame. Sure, it probably has something to do with it, but in the end its just a poor excuse. The line, IMO, shows that the Crows are dramatic and want attention no matter what, even if it's negative or out of undeserved pity. 

Those are definetly meanings that could come out of the poem. 

Also, it's good that you have a personal feeling to the poem. It's Important to me to send a feeling out that people can relate to. 

Alright, we'll see if I'm anywhere close to the point here.

To me it seems that the crows represent mediocrity. We are unable to ignore them because they are louder than the beautiful voices of the birds. We chase the birds away because we fear their superiority, and we put the crows on a pedestal because they show us how even something ordinary can be "beautiful". We all want to be special like the birds, but since we are not we idolize the crows, thus making them the template for excellence. By extension, we assert that we are excellent as well.

That's pretty much my original thought. It can be summed up in multiple forms, but that's was what I was originals going for.

I'm a fan of poetry also, but I've never been terribly good at abstract analogies like you seem to be. It's nice to actually have the poet around to confirm and deny interpretations. Analyzing poetry in English classes always seemed so futile to me because we were just making a bunch of conjecture.

I enjoy analyzing certain poems, since it gives me ideas on what to write. The reason I wrote about birds happened to be since i liked "The Raven" so I wanted to write something like it. 

My analogies tend to come from eeriences in life. At one point, I was in a bad state, so that's when my best poems came. I don't have those anymore, but I think I can scrounge them up from where I originally posted my poetry.

thanks!

The best poetry isn't just written, it's inspired. It just so happens that emotional experiences are the best inspiration, whether they're good or bad ones.

True, whenever I get really mad, sometimes I go over and write a poem while angry. The poems tend to be quite crazy, so I wouldn't post any here, but I tend to take advantage of a fill of emotions. Though I've never written a happy poem.  

I know where you're coming from, I've written many an angry poem (or as I call them, "hate poem") in my day! I surprise myself though because the overwhelming majority of mine happen to be love poems. 

I don't know th feeling of love, so I can't write a poem about it. (sappy I know) but whenever some person writes a love poem without any real meaning, it just is boring. Poetry needs to be able to send your feelings outside, while also allowing others to enter your poem and find meaning. If you write about a love of yours, it can be good, but if you aren't and just ,along something up, it doesn't feel real, and some can tell of its actually from the heart.

Like a story filled with passion? By the way, the poem was good but i was unable to really respond to it with any advice.

I had a feeling the birds were about something pure or great but forced into hiding or covered by the crows.

Yeah, this site is good about that, but with poems, in my opinion, they need actual experience or real feelings poured into them. With stories, it's not necessary  to have your feelings portrayed inside the story. With the best games on the site, I doubt that the stories are actually metaphors to the authors life. (though i don't know) The feelings have to be in the story, but the story shouldn't be like a poem, that it exhibits a real feeling as the main point in the writing. 

(Poetry can be written in rage, while stories shouldn't = simplified version)

Though, with romance, it's necessary to really have it all believable, which is why I tend to stay away from romance books, since they feel bland and fake. Also with movies, since you know how it ends in the beginning.

My choice looms ahead,

The lands where the low stay,

Where a day is never filled with tests,

And rain will not annoy,

The people who live in this land.

There are no hills,

No great mountains to pass,

The great heights necessary to overcome,

Are not found in this land,

Where hardship is never found.

It sounds like a paradise,

No need of trials,

A pleasant and easy going life,

Where you can stay at the beach and swim.

The joyous feelings of life,

They must be here,

I shall get there, with an easy travel,

And I'll enjoy my stay.

Now I have arrived,

The land of my dreams,

The place of my hopes,

No trials await me,

And no hardships will come to pass.

It is true, the birds always sing,

And the crows have all left.

The singing is endless,

And their beauty is short lasting.

A song is beautiful,

When it is in trial,

When the singer needs a to keep the audience,

When the song eventually ends.

But here, the joy is everlasting,

Never changing, never growing.

It surrounds me, and entertains me,

But entrainment needs a pause,

In each show, there is never only joy,

But the sorrow makes it much sweeter.

“I have grown tired of joy,

It is uninteresting,

I cannot stand this boredom.”

That was my belief,

That was my thought,

As I left that land,

The land of the low,

And chased a new land,

The land of the high.

My failure,

To understand all of life,

caused me pain and suffering,

And now, that I understand,

The pain, is simply joy.

And the joy, afterwards,

Is greater then a birds joy,

Of finding a tune.

Yes, I am a fool,

It is true, that I get confused,

For in the land of the high,

The air is less,

And the songs are less in coming.

But it is good,

For the songs are more beautiful,

And my tears, are of trial,

And when they stop,

I can truly smile,

A smile of heart.

Sorry for the long post, just listening to the the complaints about how its too small, and no stanzas. Again, I would love some constructive criticism, especially since this poem is not really similar to how I usually write.  Thanks!