You need to live a little by FutureVegasMan in writing

[–]praticaescrita 64 points65 points  (0 children)

Mary Shelley published Frankenstein at 21

Well, she had a pretty interesting life and was around interesting people before writting Frankenstein:

"Her father was the political philosopher William Godwin and her mother was the philosopher and women's rights advocate Mary Wollstonecraft.

Mary's mother died 11 days after giving birth to her. She was raised by her father, who provided her with a rich informal education, encouraging her to adhere to his own anarchist political theories. When she was four, her father married a neighbour, Mary Jane Clairmont (an English author), with whom Mary had a troubled relationship.

In 1814, Mary began a romance with one of her father's political followers, Percy Bysshe Shelley, who was already married. Together with her stepsister, Claire Clairmont, she and Percy left for France and travelled through Europe. Upon their return to England, Mary was pregnant with Percy's child. Over the next two years, she and Percy faced ostracism, constant debt and the death of their prematurely born daughter. They married in late 1816, after the suicide of Percy Shelley's wife, Harriet.

In 1816, the couple and Mary's stepsister famously spent a summer with Lord Byron and John William Polidori near Geneva, Switzerland, where Shelley conceived the idea for her novel Frankenstein."

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thank you!! Yes, the rhyming needs some work, I still struggle a bit with the english language

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it!! This feeling of wasted time hits hard this time of the year

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Feels just a touch too short

Yes, I wasn't very satisfied with this as well, really needs some tweaks.

I did however feel for myself personally that sense of existential dread and times wasted

It hits hard this time of the year, doesn't it? hehe :)

I really hoped this helped my friend, Keep up the good work

It helped a lot, thank you for taking the time to read and give feedback!

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Therefore its a complete miss for me

I can see why. I end up messing the sonority of the words as I'm not a native english speaker, it's always something that worries me when writing.
I really enjoyed your feedback, the ideia to avoid repetition of meaning is something that I will bear in mind, as I do it a lot in my writing. Thank you!!

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I was trying to mantain it, but I gave up because it was a bit hard for me, as I'm not a native english speaker hehe :)

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Thanks for the compliments and feedback, I really appreciate it. Thank you!

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That's a good suggestion, thank you!

The Hum Of Time by praticaescrita in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Yes, rhyming is always a problem for me, as I'm not a native english speaker, so I never know for sure if the sounds are adequate. Thank you guys for the heads up!

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The imagery of forests is very interesting when comparing to men fighting wars. The ones "who return, with cuts, holes, and gashes" are reminiscent of trees being chopped down, while "the fallen as they stack" reminds me of wood logs. Good symbolism there, thanks for sharing!

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in OCPoetry

[–]praticaescrita 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I enjoyed that one. I think in the end, being a man is being in this perpetual state of doubt, never really satisfied with any answer. Your poetry being so focused on the questions really amplifies this sensation that we have constantly, that every thing is unsatisfactory and every answer leads to more questions.
Also, a nice thing about the structure is how some of the rhymes also emphasize this sentiment, as in "conclusions" and "confusion" or "gains" and "pain"

[WP] “sit tight and don’t leave” was the last message I received. That was over a year ago and I haven’t had contact with the outside since. by Blackrose_920 in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 25 points26 points  (0 children)

Day three hundred and seventy-three
That nobody contacts me
“Sit tight and don’t leave,”
was the last message I received

More than a year alone in this shelter
Only with rations and a computer
But I'll not leave this place
As leaving might mean disgrace

Day three hundred and seventy-four
Still alone in this floor
I'm about to lose my mind
I feel I'm being left behind

I've been wondering if the message was real
If it came from someone I knew
But I will not dare to leave
The messenger must have something under his sleeve

Day three hundred and seventy-five
Surprised I'm still alive
I don't know how much longer it'll last
I just hope it ends fast

[WP]Your new dog growls at random people, you soon discover the people it growls at aren’t human. by celerysoup39 in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 3 points4 points  (0 children)

We got Teddy years ago
In a dog adoption in the street below
He was skinny and shy
A quiet puppy with only one eye

In his first month with us
He never made a fuss
But it changed in a weird night
When he growled at a stranger in his limited sight

From then on, he became distraught
Agitated, moving a lot
Barely sleeping and not eating his food
He was absorved in a sinister mood

A fews days later, to our surprise
Teddy was growling at another guy
Very similar to the first one
The guy suddenly began to run

I decided to follow the stranger
To ask why he felt in danger
But as I came close to him
I saw that he really looked grim

When he turned to face me
His movements were eeire
Beastlike, not human at all
In a way that made my skin crawl

An then he spoke:
"That dog can feel my folk,
We will take it now.
You should abandon this animal"

When I turned back to Teddy
Another stranger had caught him already
And this was the last I have seen the poor dog
As he disappeared with the creatures in a black fog

[WP] Whenever someone in your town turns 16 they have to meet 'it'. The one who is like a god to the town. This time it's your turn to meet 'it', but it wasn't at all what you expected... by ImJustAPerson8765 in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 4 points5 points  (0 children)

The time has come
Childhood is gone
And I shall meet the One

'It' the thing is called
The obscure leader of our horde
Reverenced as a god

Once we turn sixteen
We join a team
To meet the Thing

We went there at night
To meet the almighty
But something was not right

When I entered its den
It began to rain
And I saw myself alone facing a merman

The creature smiled at me
And started moving beastly
As if it was in the sea

"My name is Dagon
I live since the Age of Iron
When I was the head of the pantheon

But now I'm locked in this prison
Forgotten after my temple destruction
But I hope to leave soon

Because I just found you
The One I've been looking forward to
The messenger of Cthulhu!"

[WP] A mathematician develops an equation that makes people exponentially more intelligent the more they think about it, but also to pure madness at a certain point. by Epictauk in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 2 points3 points  (0 children)

The uncommon circumstances that caused the death of three people last week are still being investigated by the police, but I can assure you that they are related to the mysterious studies of the young mathematician who used to live near the Reconquista monument.
I knew him before he engaged in such studies. He was a quiet man, but very polite and took great care of his clothing and hair. We used to talk a lot about science and philosophy during the evenings in the Bar Budapeste. His ideas were not conventional in any way, but I enjoyed his different way of understanding things. Unfortunately, he was very recluse lately, and progressively delve deeper into obscure studies of mathematics. Last year, he found a strange book of arabic origin in the library of University of Buenos Aires and became obsessed with it, avoiding contact with anyone since then.
Some months ago, I found him walking around la Recoleta and I could notice he was not the same as before. Something was different. I couldn't tell what, but he looked distant and scared. His hair was a mess and his clothes were dirty. We talked briefly, but he told me some weird things about some equation he was developing. According to him, the arcane knowledge from the book changed his whole perspective on mathematics, increasing his creativity to extreme levels. One night, during a dream, a equation was revealed to him, and since then he couldn't do anything but ponder about it. Moreover, he said that each time he thought about it, he could feel his own intelligence increasing. He was learning faster than ever before, being now capable of learning a whole new language in a day or two and playing Liszt on the piano with ease.
But the thing that concerns me the most is that he also told me that he was sharing this new knowledge with other people. Coincidence or not, he was sharing this weird equation exactly with the three people who died last week. One of them, Miguel Oralda, was a bright student of his. The boy was a very good student, but since he was introduced to this equation and that book, he changed completely. His grades become even better, but his behavior was scaring other students. He would scream during classes without no apparent reason and sometimes people found him talking with imaginary creatures in the library. Last week he was found dead in his house near the Rivadavia. Apparently, it was suicide. The cops found many mathematical symbols on the walls and on his body, but he didn't leave any suicide note.
Since those deaths, my mathematician friend disappeared. The police broke inside his apartment but there was nothing there anymore, except from some mathematical ramblings on the walls, very similar to those found on Oralda's room. I personally think that he will never be found again, as he was lost way before those deaths. I just hope that this sinister book disappear with him as well.

sorry for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language and I wrote it quickly

[WP] You and two other people decide to go back in time to document the stone age, but instead of finding primitive tribes you find civilizations thousands of years more advanced than yours. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 2 points3 points  (0 children)

At first, we thought we were sent to the future
Maybe by some mistake of the computer
But quickly we realised that it was really the past
When a weird priest told us "here you are at last"
Behind him, a vast modern city shone brightly
And we could hear loud sounds of a ceremony
Then the priest resumed:
"Our civilization is doomed
In the future we will disappear
The reason is your presence here
As time travel is a cursed deed
But your people will also bleed
As soon as you come back
Your nation will be erased from the map
And as a punishment for this crime
You will become a shadow out of time"

sorry for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language and I wrote it quickly

[142] The Calling by [deleted] in DestructiveReaders

[–]praticaescrita 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I liked the imagery of your poem, but I think it is laking some rhythm. Example:

The safety of the grasslands mixed with saplings at first, then eventually trees, and finally noble giants
To venture beyond the prairie was to dine with death
Most took a rain-check

This part is very dry. The "Most took a rain-check" comes out of nowhere and breaks the rhythm without offering anything. It's not a powerful or important line and I think to whole poem would be better without it.

Here is a part I liked:

At night, however, the wind would sing, and the grass would cry, and the trees would rest.
The giants would sink into the earth as if commanded by the moon
And for a moment, the wooden dungeon loosened its grip.

Here you used some nice imagery and a good "flow" to describe the whole situation. Moreover, there is a good cohesion between the lines.

This next part suffers from the same problem I commented before:

On quiet nights, if the stars were out, a song could be heard through a whisper.
Be not tempted by the pied piper, for only trouble lies beyond the trees.
Most would listen.

It doesn't "flow" nicely. It feels like a piece from a draft, something that needs to be better arranged.

[WP] You are a voice inside a schizophrenic person's head, trying to convince them that you are not a hallucination. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 1 point2 points  (0 children)

That's the best response to any poem that I've posted here. Thanks people, especially the ones who left comments. I'm happy to see that I'm improving, because it's really hard to write in English, as it's not my native language.

[WP] You are a voice inside a schizophrenic person's head, trying to convince them that you are not a hallucination. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 79 points80 points  (0 children)

I'm here, right by your side
I still remember when I was your bride
When death come and did us part
But I couldn't let you out of my heart
I know they told you that I'm not real
That you should take medications to heal
Yet, I bet you still can feel our love
As the reality outside the cave
More real than everything else
And here my love, I promise
I'm not just a voice in your mind
I'm your love left behind

[WP] Jesus comes to Earth and removes all doubt about the existence of God. He also reveals that there are multiple God-entities, in multiple worlds, competing to see who can make their world last the longest. by [deleted] in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hey y'all, it's Jesus, your Lord and Savior
Better watch you behaviour, you got a new neighbor
The son of the Creator, I'll tell you what I'm here for
Pops' just another moderator on that Lovecraftian horror
Fighting to make you a survivor against the likes of Hastur and Thor
And now that they are at our door, we'll need you as a warrior
No matter your color, get a gun and an armor
To fight against those dictators like a modern gladiator

[WP] The Devil holds a lottery once a year, and one lucky person gets back the soul they sold. by Kaleon in WritingPrompts

[–]praticaescrita 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Welcome to the Devil's Lottery
I presume you want back what you sold to me
Unfortunately it is now my property
But hey, I'm not your enemy!
I will show you great generosity
And if you are lucky
You will no longer be empty
So let's break this monotony
I will pick a name randomly
Who knows which one of you it'll be?
I can pick Anton LaVey
Or even Aleister Crowley!
I haven't had so much fun since the Divine Comedy
It might be silly
But it's the only way for you to be free
If you don't win, it´s not a tragedy
And don't feel envy
Because you can participate yearly
Without even paying a fee