#1
Hi guys, I've never really posted here before but I started writing some poetry that I wanted to change to lyrics at some point, and I just wanted to get some feedback. This is called

Waiting to be Happened

I love my notebooks, I can write down all my thoughts,
fill their pages with the things I am seeing, whether I'm thinking them or not.
I stop for a moment, re-reading my Ills,
Scribblings of a madman, Done of his own free will.
From the Caveman and the Toddler, scribbling on their walls,
to queens and their kings who rule them, Jokers and all.
From Davinci and Dylan, your thoughts coming to sight,
inspiring those you thought you knew, bringing me to life.
Now I hate my notebooks, because of them I can see,
we are all just here, trying to be free,
I easily closed my eyes, the truth had been burned,
Knowing we are all on the same page, waiting to be turned.
#2
Quote by dionner
Hi guys, I've never really posted here before but I started writing some poetry that I wanted to change to lyrics at some point, and I just wanted to get some feedback. This is called

Waiting to be Happened

From Davinci and Dylan, your thoughts coming to sight,
inspiring those you thought you knew, bringing me to life.

I LIKED THOSE. Lignes...


WEll its a nice Start Dioneer... I like the personnalisation In it
#3
Quote by dionner
Hi guys, I've never really posted here before but I started writing some poetry that I wanted to change to lyrics at some point, and I just wanted to get some feedback. This is called

Waiting to be Happened

I love my notebooks, I can write down all my thoughts,
fill their pages with the things I am seeing, whether I'm thinking them or not.
I stop for a moment, re-reading my Ills,
Scribblings of a madman, Done of his own free will.
From the Caveman and the Toddler, scribbling on their walls,
to queens and their kings who rule them, Jokers and all.
From Davinci and Dylan, your thoughts coming to sight,
inspiring those you thought you knew, bringing me to life.
Now I hate my notebooks, because of them I can see,
we are all just here, trying to be free,
I easily closed my eyes, the truth had been burned,
Knowing we are all on the same page, waiting to be turned.



I like the thoughts you have in here, and the way you used parallelism really gives extra meaning to your last line, and puts a little more emphasis on the point.
The only real thing i can tell you is that you have the lines in a really strict meter, but you're not counting the syllables. You have the Iambic Pentameter going for you, it just reads a little weird when you don't match up the syllable count as well.
I also thing you should change the title ( or at least correct the English- waiting to happen ) to something that gives a better picture of the poem itself. I understand its meaning, but it just doesn't seem right to me for what you've written.


Crit mine?
So good to see you once again.
I thought that you were hiding.
And you thought that I had run away.
Chasing the tail of dogma.
I opened my eye and there we were .
#5
I love the almost state of confusion pouring out of this piece. I think this piece speaks much about living in an uninspired state and really just looking, reading and speaking as they're and by that we're controlled, which we know of, but we are unaware of its effects and the consequences of it. Well done mate, nothing more to add here.