#1
I should have more time this week, crits coming back to Jamie, Steve, Kyle, and anyone else who touched my last one. Jamie, dont you dare leave a comment here, I wont allow it before I get to yours, okay? C4C and I'll be good and get to yous guyses this time, okay?

When Ravens Howl

But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When...

Caw.

My dogs spend eight hours each day
Foreshadowing the world out of two closed French doors
With golden, open, and witnessing eyes.
My dogs spend eight hours each day
Praying, for our lives,
Shouting at the world with imperative hymns.
My dogs spend eight hours each day
Bearing truth in their bark,
Like the way willow-branches sway in a thunderstorm.
Rain pounds on the porch
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter,
Dogs bark and Ravens circle. Dogs circle.
Ravens howl.

But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When...


Caw.
Howl. To the Ravens.
I asked them why they are so black
They answered, to blend in with the night, to hide
From Volvo headlights.

But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When...


My dogs spent eight hours each day,
Praying.
Until they prayed too loudly,
Had to be put down, be pressed into the soil,
And rise as crows.

Caw.
Caw.
Caw.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, thunder storm,
They Howl. I walk up two sets of stairs, and listen.
And listen.

I have faith, that death is just another phase of hiding,
And that if there were just less headlights
I could maybe hear a faint bark. From behind my French doors.

But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When Ravens howl.
#3
Oooo. This is totally not my style so I can't say too much, but I still really like it. The repetition in the first big stanza kinda annoyed me. Otherwise it sounds like if Frost and Poe had a kid and kicked it. And that's good.

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#4
don't crit cunning lingers. I'd prefer you to wait and crit the next untitled one of the series. Possibly read through them all aswell so you have an idea of how they've gone, seeing as you've missed them each time you owe me a crit

I have no idea 'but this one
#5
Quote by #1 synth
I should have more time this week, crits coming back to Jamie, Steve, Kyle, and anyone else who touched my last one. Jamie, dont you dare leave a comment here, I wont allow it before I get to yours, okay? C4C and I'll be good and get to yous guyses this time, okay?

When Ravens Howl

But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When...
I didn't like the repetition of "but" - i didn't feel like it had any point to repeating it three times.

Caw.

My dogs spend eight hours each day
Foreshadowing the world out of two closed French doors
With golden, open, and witnessing eyes. "Witnessing" doesn't quite fit. Also, "golden, open" are very bland word choices.
My dogs spend eight hours each day
Praying, for our lives, Very cliched.
Shouting at the world with imperative hymns. Great.
My dogs spend eight hours each day
Bearing truth in their bark, In rather than on - good touch.
Like the way willow-branches sway in a thunderstorm.
Rain pounds on the porch
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, Good alliteration on these two lines.
Dogs bark and Ravens circle. Dogs circle.
Ravens howl.
I liked what you did with this. Going from a very spaced out structure to a packed in one was a clever move, and this time, the repetition (of the dogs) was effective. However, there were a few little complaints with some parts that i've mentioned, but nothing drastic in any way.
But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden, Get some synonyms for those!
When...


Caw.
Howl. To the Ravens.
I asked them why they are so black
They answered, to blend in with the night, to hide
From Volvo headlights.
No complaints; i really enjoyed this little stanza.
But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When...


My dogs spent eight hours each day,
Praying.
Until they prayed too loudly,
Had to be put down, be pressed into the soil,
And rise as crows.

Caw.
Caw.
Caw.
Good.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, thunder storm,
They Howl. I walk up two sets of stairs, and listen.
And listen.
The part about you walking up two sets of stairs make the poem suddenly seem like you personally feature in it, which it didn't seem very clear that it was meant to be likje that earlier on. It doesn't really work for that reason, if that makes sense.
I have faith, that death is just another phase of hiding,
And that if there were just less headlights
I could maybe hear a faint bark. From behind my French doors.

But their voices keep swaying.

But their voices kept swaying.

But my head always looks up, open, golden,
When Ravens howl.


Right. Repetition can be extremely effective in poetry, which you obviously know, but i think you've overdone it with this basically. The meat of it was mostly great stuff, but you repeated it so that i got used to it and then they just seemed so-so after a while, which was a shame. I reckon just slightly tweaking those key lines each time you used them again would add a lot more power and vigour to the poem, and also keep the reader interested that vital bit more.

Anyway, how are you Dylan? Any comment on my latest would be great, cheers.
#6
I love the way you write, even if it's a piece that I don't particularly like I find your style amusing and really great.

With that being said, I really felt that this had some parts, but the repetition was overdone. Needs less Caws and buts
Quote by Cal UK
Alk hit the nail on the head there.