No title, but could use some advice

[Brett David]

What do ya think? This is the first thing I've written so go easy
---------------------------------------
Folded sheets deliver the heat
As Iris wiggles the toes to his feet
A breeze brushes against his damp cheek
Opened eyes to white washed walls of an old fleet

Realize then all you know is what you see
Half of what you see is an old mans dream
But they say to each is their own and your no leach

As a fish on a line flops and breaks free
Lays stranded on foreign shores he soon starts to reek
Iris gasps for air which never seems to wanna breach
Flailing arms he tries to reach

Folds his arms to feel the thump
To the beat of his left drum
So he manages to hum
While he shuffles his feet and twiddles his thumbs

Looks up to the sky to see threatened black clouds
As rain starts to pellet down
So he gives a one handed salute with soggy socks and ripped up boots
Then goes to fetch his one manned canoe

Off to the distance Iris sees
The white capped ripple of swirling seas
So he takes what he needs and heads up to the roof
Where he'll hide and scream to the sight of vicious blue and floating plastic figurines

As the thunder and lightin begins to crack
Iris opens his eyes to the nightmare he did contract
Looks around to the sight of white washed walls of an old mans retreat
To sit and think a thousand ways to fill a head which always remained empty

[Leanne]

Brett, I've moved this to the Novice forum so we can offer you a bit of advice -- the "for fun" is just that, not for critiques but for mucking about.

Firstly, welcome and it's good to see you posting. You spin quite a good story and you have nearly mastered one of the golden rules of poetry: "show, don't tell". We know a lot about Iris from the things around him and his actions. To strengthen that, you could probably get rid of the second stanza entirely, because what you say there is implied by the rest of the poem -- especially the last stanza.

The biggest problem you have is one that will hopefully sort itself out with experience -- trying to be "poetic". Poetry can't really be forced. Changing natural syntax (grammatical structures), forcing in rhymes that don't fit with meter (rhythm), that sort of thing -- and that's just a matter of reading more, seeing how other people do things and shamelessly stealing their techniques

[Brett David]

Thank you for moving it to the right place for me.
Also thank you very much for the critique.

I'll throw out the second stanza, it is a bit redundant.

I have a question about the forcing of rhymes though. Do you mean looking for specific words to fit what you think to be the flow?

[Leanne]

Essentially, yes.

Rhymes work best when they're in conjunction with meter -- and I don't just mean rhymes at the end of a line, the same applies for "internal" rhymes as well. They need to hit a "stressed" beat to work well, or they're lost (or forced, as you automatically try to emphasise those words and it throws out natural pronunciation). This really is just a matter of experience. There are plenty of exercises in the Poetry Practice forum that can help you, even if you're only reading through what's already been done and where corrections have been made.

It won't happen overnight, but it will happen!

[Brett David]

I understand a lot better now. I'll definitely focus on that and check out that section of the forums.

I appreciate the help and words of advice.

I did a quick rewrite just now to get rid of some of the extra things in there. Here it is if anyone wants to see it.

Iris wiggles the toes beneath his folded sheets
As a breeze brushes against his cold damp cheek
His pupils widen as hes greeted with whitewashed walls of an old fleet

As a fish on a line flops and breaks free
Gasping for air that never seems to breach
Lays stranded on foreign shores he soon starts to reek
While Iris flails his arms but hes just out of reach

Arms over under he crosses his heart
The feel of a thump to the beat of his left drum
He shuffles his feet and manages a hum

Up in the sky vicious dark clouds are strung along
Iris snaps to attention with a quick salute
Then is to fetch his one manned canoe

Takes what he needs and heads to the roof
While catchin a glimpse of dark seas and floating figurines
His screams mimicked by jeering echoed cracks of lighting

Iris awakens from the nightmare he did contract
Looks to the sight of white washed wallks of an old mans retreat
To sit and think a thousand ways to fill a head which always remained empty

[Leanne]

Not trying to be difficult, but I actually preferred the first lines of the first version

Folded sheets deliver the heat
As Iris wiggles the toes to his feet -- these lines are quite interesting and don't jump straight into the story, we're first given an idea of the environment where the warmth contrasts with the later cold breeze.

But otherwise, you're starting along the right track.

[Jamie]

Hi Brett
I liked this, it put some stong images in my empty head. very strong for your first poem, well done. I'm sorry I cant offer you any technical advice as i'm probably in the same boat as you.