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ESL forum > Ask for help > improving a student īs poems    

improving a student īs poems



gharbi2009
Tunisia

improving a student īs poems
 
Dear colleagues,
A student asked me to proofread these two poems, can you help me, please?
 
Inflated clauses marinated with an unconceivable ridicule                                                                                                                            I never signed up to any of this                                                                                                                                                                        I � m just a machine that īs meant to reproduce                                                                                                                                               Rusty , decaying machine                                                                                                                                                                            Morbund , tepid machine                                                                                                                                                                                 Not so well molded machine                                                                                                                                                                           Hold on .                                                                                                                                                                                                           Do machines get cancer ?                                                                                                                                                               Because i can īt catch the drip of you                                                                                                                                               Teptoeing around the walls of my temple                                                                                                                                                        of what īs left of my temple                                                                                                                                                                      Sucking in every spec of alacrity                                                                                                                                                                    You come across  Like a morbind monk.
 
second poem:
 I feel like the word shatter                                                                                                                                                                             Pick up the morsels                                                                                                                                                                                         Frost them up                                                                                                                                                                                                 Serve me on a platter                                                                                                                                                                                      For the passing to look at                                                                                                                                                                              Torment                                                                                                                                                                                                            And for the locals to devour .                                                                                                                                                                          You can go a long way bribing hicks with candy                                                                                                                                             But you cant bribe your way into heaven , sadly, .

3 Jul 2018      





cunliffe
United Kingdom

Ooh now then, it īs difficult with poetry, because quite often the ideas are obscure and the meaning difficult to decipher and it īs acceptable to be ungrammatical īpoetic licence �. 
I really like the near rhymes (candy, sadly). 
I think it īs moribund, not morbund. Tiptoeing, not tetoeing. Speck, not spec, unless that spec is short for specification and it may well be.  

5 Jul 2018     



yanogator
United States

Lynne, I see "morbind" at the end of the first poem, which should be "morbid", so maybe that "morbund" earlier was also supposed to be "morbid". You could be right about "moribund", too.
 
Bruce 

5 Jul 2018     



redcamarocruiser
United States

unconceivable should be inconceivable
never signed up FOR (not TO) 
 
This poet-student should be encouraged. He shows talent.
 

7 Jul 2018