No words do describe, the feeling this gives me

--
Know that when I don't thank for a fave or a comment, I DO appreciate it!!

Don't thank me for faving your work, or watching you!
Instead, let me thank you for making your awesome art!
Thank you, Artists of Deviantart!

Wow... this is really absolutely amazing!

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Person 1: It would be really hard to write an essay in a language though.

AMAZING!!

Jeepers....

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You squashed my binoculars...... bioch.

I must say your a person of many talents
but this indeed, is very lovely!

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My art account: ~prelandra
My stock account ~prelandra-stock
My photography account: ~Prelandra-Captured

speechless..!

This is an amazing poem. It has a great beat to it and flows well.

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- I am a Prose Admin for *DailyLitDeviations

"Speechless" is right. Fame chooses curious vessels, it seems.


I'm sorry, I tried man. I gave it my best shot. Maybe you're operating on a level so far above me that you escape my comprehension. But from an analytical standpoint, this poem is a *little* rough around the edges. Grammar and syntax are... well, poorly managed. Your train of thought seems erratic, even for a poem, and your use of metaphors and similes isn't always cogent. And as much as I strain, the subject--the person or idea you are addressing as you narrate-- eludes me.

Let's look at the first stanza.

"Love be not proud; for those who might call thee divine/ or lovely are not so."

That seems to be an incomplete thought. Why isn't love proud? The semicolon makes it appear that it's unrelated to the rest of the sentence, which doesn't explain why it's not proud anyways. And then what happens to those who might call "thee" divine? The use of "For" at the beginning indicates that something must follow this, that there will be something expected of them, they will receive something or undergo some transformation. But, they don't. And the line break, is that a continuance of the same sentence/idea? What are they "not so"? What does that mean? They are "not so" what? There's no subject to reference. Vague is one thing, obtuse is another. And who is "thee"? Is "thee" love? Is "thee" lies? You don't give us any indication about this distant entity to help guide us to your meaning.

"Will you ever offer
Your light to the worthiest?"

Again, you address this unknown person. Possibly, it's the same person or thing as before. Possibly not. But, apparently, some people call It "divine" and "lovely", but they are "not so", so I guess that doesn't matter? What light is It offering, and to whom? Who are the "worthiest"? What are the the most worthy of? Of love? Of understanding? Of pizza making? We have no frame of reference for this comment.


"You enjoy to shine"

Is English your first language? If not, then "enjoy to shine" is improper English. Maybe that's an artistic move on your part, but to someone who is an English major, has read a lot of genuine Sonnets, and is familiar with oodles of poetry, this doesn't work. There's no consistency in the usage here. If you were repeatedly using broken grammar in a pattern that enhanced the rhythm or metre of the poem, then I could understand. But as it is, you should use "You enjoy shining" instead.

"Where poison and mud are melting."

Ok, so there's nothing really wrong with poison and mud melting. But the idea seems incorrect. Poison COULD be a solid, but in most cases poison sounds like and conjures the image of a liquid. Liquids can't really melt. And mud? Mud is technically dirt mixed with water, so that's already melted. Besides, melting implies that heat is involved. Are they being heated until they disintegrate? Or are they simply mixing and combining into a sort of sludge? That's the idea I think you were really going for. But who knows. Try instead, "Where poison and mud are mingling".

"Foolish miser!"

Again, who are you talking to? We still have no subject here, and the ways in which you engage him/it make it hard to guess by simply approximating and extrapolating details. Why is he foolish? Because he doesn't shine his light on the worthy? Who says they're worthy, anyways? And why is he a miser? What is he withholding? You haven't given us any reason to believe he's keeping things from people, except his light. But even that's in question, and it doesn't specifically relate to what you said directly preceding this statement.

In all, this poem seems fairly nonsensical. I realise the creative fires burn at odd hours and in strange lights, but it seems like you could have put some more thought into its composition before posting it here. I could go on and critique the whole thing, but I have a strong suspicion it wouldn't matter.

EDIT - Ok, so I see you're from France. That explains a lot of the things I was critiquing. Good effort man, your English is a million times better than my French. But this poem is still a bit grating. I'd be happy to help you with the composition/translation if you'd like.