Shadows on the Wall: Poetry and Verse by Fionn Fael

[Fionn Fael]

Greetings, all. Writing has been my passion for as long as I can remember, but I am usually quite loath to share my works with others. Well, I've finally realized that it is awfully difficult to become a writer for a living (as I wish to do) if one never shares their writing. Also, a little constructive criticism is never a bad thing.

Therefore, I have decided to submit some of my attempts at poetry for your approval. I will post individual pieces every so often, so as not to overload the thread with tons at once. This will be a collection of assorted works I have written over a fairly long period of time, so there is guaranteed to be some variation in style, subject matter, and skill level. Even so, I humbly request that you please offer your opinions and suggestions for improvement. Thank you.

[Fionn Fael]

Here is my first entry into this collection. I wrote this poem around the end of my last school year. It concerned important events in my life at that time, and, ironically, applies strangely well to more recent happenings that I am currently involved in. Please offer me your interpretations and comments.

The Unnamed Act

I am stopped.
The air is cold and the wind is sharp
But I still feel warmth.

The stage lights dim
The backdrop changes
The chief player, a wistful woman with a wilting rose
That was withheld from a lover

Sitting, resting, staring
Hope counts the minutes and the seconds
Ticking the time away ‘til my glorious doomsday

How much is a red glyph worth?
Of late, of more than every mine’s gold and silver
That shines with a fleeting explosion

But do you see it, do you?
All the gossips, midwives, matchmakers exclaim, “Truth,â€

[Anna Mae]

Well, I have a good opinion of you from the start because you used the phrase "I am usually quite loath". Do you hope to write poetry for a living, or write other things as well?

The Unnamed Act

I am stopped.
The air is cold and the wind is sharp
But I still feel warmth. Your word choice would indicate to me that the warmth comes from outside of yourself.

The stage lights dim
The backdrop changes
The chief player, a wistful woman with a wilting rose
That was withheld from a lover Just a warning: I'm a big fan of punctuation and complete sentences.

Sitting, resting, staring
Hope counts the minutes and the seconds Is that the actress's name?
Ticking the time away ‘til my glorious doomsday

How much is a red glyph worth? Is this an allusion that I don't get?
Of late, of more than every mine’s gold and silver You should remove the second "of".
That shines with a fleeting explosion

But do you see it, do you? I recommend a semicolon instead of a comma.
All the gossips, midwives, matchmakers exclaim, “Truth,”
Yet Doubt still makes his home in my mind

I go on only to play the game
The goal: Your gaze.
The reward: Your love Interesting that the love in not the primary objective but rather an effect of the sought attention
And the sweetest buoyancy that never fails to follow I like this phrase.

And if it is true buoyancy
Let me be thrown upon the rolling waves. I'm liking this metaphor.
My faith is in the life that keeps me afloat. *pauses* *furrows brow* *reads on while retaining puzzled expression*

Oh, woe is absent
But absence brings woe I like this turn of phrase.
When I am returned to my never-ending task once more

An apparition through the doorway has your fair frame, I assume the double meaning is intentional.
A passing shadow glimpsed bears familiarity
Though I know it not. Hurrah for old English

Snow whips and whirls and reproduces, it seems.
Multiplication in the sky of frozen thoughts
Cast heavenward Nice imagery

The play goes on adjacent Your usage of the word "adjacent" confuses me.
The lamps still lit, but the lines forgotten
And lost among the stumblings of out of characters Nice idea, but the phrasing is chunky

We are those fretting our hour upon the stage
While wisdom chides for waste and youthful ignorance
“Child,” she says, “fools’ endeavors dost thou seek.”

Sifting through the sandy crowds leaves only one stone Good metaphor
Time and again, but despite myself
I am sure she is right.
Still saints do move all the same. Your meaning is esoteric.

[Fionn Fael]

Well, I have a good opinion of you from the start because you used the phrase "I am usually quite loath". Do you hope to write poetry for a living, or write other things as well?

Thank you! Actually, I want to be a novelist, but I enjoy writing anything. Poetry is probably the area of writing in which I have the least confidence in my abilities, and so I thought I would try to improve.

The stage lights dim
The backdrop changes
The chief player, a wistful woman with a wilting rose
That was withheld from a lover Just a warning: I'm a big fan of punctuation and complete sentences.

Oh, I'm normally a perfectionist when it comes to that, too, but since punctuation and complete sentences don't necessarily have to be applied in poetry, I sometimes choose not to use them. My poems are generally of a fairly free-form style.

Sitting, resting, staring
Hope counts the minutes and the seconds Is that the actress's name?
Ticking the time away ‘]
I could see how you might think that, but I was actually personifying the feeling of hope.

How much is a red glyph worth? Is this an allusion that I don't get?
Of late, of more than every mine’s gold and silver You should remove the second "of".
That shines with a fleeting explosion

Yes, I apologize. The "red glyphs" are referring to the digital numbers of a clock. And you're right. Thanks for pointing that out.

My faith is in the life that keeps me afloat. *pauses* *furrows brow* *reads on while retaining puzzled expression*

Sorry, was that part unclear? Reworded: I have faith that the one who provides me with buoyancy will not let me sink.

An apparition through the doorway has your fair frame, I assume the double meaning is intentional.

Yes! Glad you noticed it.

The play goes on adjacent Your usage of the word "adjacent" confuses me.
The lamps still lit, but the lines forgotten
And lost among the stumblings of out of characters Nice idea, but the phrasing is chunky

It's relating to the previous stanza. The play mentioned in stanza two is still going on, simultaneous and nearby the setting of the "snow" stanza. Sorry... difficult to describe. Yeah... it was supposed to be wordplay with the phrase "out of character" and "characters", but I didn't express it very well...

Still saints do move all the same. Your meaning is esoteric.

Forgive me... I was reading Romeo and Juliet at the time. I'm assuming you caught the reference, though, since you knew the meaning was esoteric.


Thanks so much for reviewing my work! The constructive criticism was greatly appreciated.

(By the way, I love your signature! )

[Anna Mae]

I think we will get along well together. I hope you shall be posting more of your work (although I'll warn you that I'm not able to access CAA more than once or twice a month).

[Fionn Fael]

I think so, as well. I will almost definitely be posting more soon, and I would certainly love to receive more constructive criticism from you whenever you are able to log in!