“Your poem is attached. The first stanza, severely edited, is a great beginning. The last, again edited, works. Your issues are all in between, especially the lines in red which are not poetic and abstract. The metaphor of depression or any other emotional state as a beast on the shoulder is fine, but the physical details of that beast have to be applicable to the emotional state you wish to particularize. You can't give it talons and other parts without making those aspects part of the particular emotional state--in other words, extending the metaphor in all the different ways this beast corresponds to the emotion that is your burden. (how does "robbed" fit the metaphor?)Instead you use your poem to refer vaguely to different periods in your life when the beast makes its appearance. Vaguely, because there are only generalizations, not specifics. You don't say "when my mother left" or "when I had my bike stolen" or "when the Twin Towers fell." Is the depression about personal or public events? But actually, I want to know that less than to see the beast you invent have physical characteristics that enanable the reader to understand the equation of beast=depression. You need to look at Tyger Tyger by Blake and the story of Sinbad the Sailor and the Old Man he is forced to carry on his back. And if you have not purchased the Workbook and the Drake text, you have done yourself a disservice”.
I changed “the great winged beast” to “a great winged beast” to make it seem, to me anyway, more intimidating by being generalized. It becomes a more invisible monster. I kept your “made me a crooked old man”, instead of my “it made me seem like a crooked old man” because your arrangement of words just seemed better. I kept some of your other changes which I didn’t think I could do better, while others like “robbing me of my energy and virility” I changed to “feeding itself my energy and virility”. I wanted this beast to be just another beast of prey, another thing that needs to feed itself, that does so by nature, and not with malice or hostility. I wanted to make the bird just another part of natural life that one just has to learn to adapt to. I tried to hone my imagery of a large bird of prey, powerful yet invisible and indescribable. I like the image of its shadow, terrifying and unstoppable, and another allusion to “darkness”. I made it a carrion bird, as if I was the dead thing it was searching for. I rearranged some words to make the poem “flow” more in the mind as one is reading it. I added “its capricious whims my inevitable destiny” to the ending to make it seem more “sorrowful”. I would like to add that the experience of depression, for me anyway, did not necessarily have to be “triggered” by any event. It did seem like I would just slide into it for no reason at all sometimes, even when I should be least depressed. That is why I did not use any specific events for the comings and goings of “the great winged beast”. It came and fed when it was hungry it seemed. I think also for the benefit of the poem, this works out. The beast can and does come without warning, without reason, without any invitation by some external event, as does the circumstances of our lives.
The Great Winged Beast (original submission)
As far back in time as I can
Remember
This great winged beast
has been a part
of my existence
From time to time
it has visited me.
Suddenly appearing
To land
Upon my shoulders
Weighing me down
Perhaps that’s why
when people told me
throughout out my youth
“Don’t slouch”
I couldn’t obey them
Making me seem to others
A crooked, burdened old man
It would return
to sit upon my back
Holding me down,
Robbing me
of my energy and virility
When I needed to rise and be an
Active participant
in the goings on of life
The years pass, and it comes
to rest again
Beside me
Its talons ripping at my legs,
Tripping me
Causing me to stumble
On the already
Murky and obscure path
Of my life
The great winged beast
Used to come when
I was the most vulnerable
Snatching me away
To carry me
far away
From my chance
at bliss
To drop me into
An abysmal hole
Where I would spend
What seemed
Eternities
Crawling and scrabbling
My way back
up and out
The great winged beast
Would appear
At the worst of times
Ripping me out of
My blissful ignorance
To deposit me atop some
Desolate mountain
Where I would sacrifice
Epochs,
carefully and deliberately
Finding my way
down and home.
The next time
the great winged beast
Comes
I will finally
succumb
to its
Power
Over
Me.
I will not fight,
I will not struggle
To whatever hell
It places me
I will unresistingly remain
Alone and inconsolable
The Great Winged Beast (Your Corrections)
As far back in time as I can remember
This great winged beast
Would suddenly appear
To land upon my shoulders
“Don’t slouch”
I couldn’t obey, his weight made me crooked
A burdened old man
It would return
to sit upon my back
Holding me down,
Robbing me
of my energy and virility
When I needed to rise and be an
Active participant
in the goings on of life
The years pass, and it comes
to rest again
Beside me
Its talons ripping at my legs,
Tripping me
Causing me to stumble
On the already
Murky and obscure path
Of my life
The great winged beast
Used to come when
I was the most vulnerable
Snatching me away
To carry me
far away
From my chance
at bliss
To drop me into
An abysmal hole
Where I would spend
What seemed
Eternities
Crawling and scrabbling
My way back
up and out
The great winged beast
Would appear
At the worst of times
Ripping me out of
My blissful ignorance
To deposit me atop some
Desolate mountain
Where I would sacrifice
Epochs,
carefully and deliberately
Finding my way
down and home.
The next time
the great winged beast
Comes
I will
finally
succumb
The Great Winged Beast (revised final submission)
As far back in time as I can remember
A great winged beast
Would suddenly appear
To land upon my shoulders
“Don’t slouch”
I couldn’t obey, his weight made me a crooked
and burdened old man
It would seek me out
Circling overhead
Its shadow shatters my
Sedate
Obliviousness
returning
to sit upon my back
Holding me down,
Pecking like the carrion bird
Feeding itself
my energy and virility
When I needed to them for myself
To rise and be an
Active participant
in the goings on of life
The years pass, and it comes
to rest again
Beside me
Its talons ripping at my legs,
Tripping me
Causing me to stumble
In the murk and obscurity
Of this life of confusion
The great winged beast
Used to come when
I was the most vulnerable
And debilitated
Snatching me away
To carry me
far away
From any chance
at bliss
To drop me into
An abysmal hole
Where I would spend
What seemed
Eternities
Scrabbling and grasping
My way back
up and out
The great winged beast
Would appear
At the worst of times
Ripping me from
My blissful ignorance
To deposit me atop some
Desolate mountain
Where I would sacrifice
My epochs,
Deliberately and in desperation
to
Find my way
down and home.
The next time
the great winged beast
Comes
I will
finally
succumb,
its
capricious
whims
my
inevitable
destiny
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