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This Poem was Submitted By: hj elliot On Date: 2004-02-01 21:48:24 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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These delicious aromas like foreign countries

Come back to bed skin smelling of coffee grounds and cigarette arms like orange rinds wrap themselves around me and I give in to these delicious aromas like foreign countries no concept of the currency accepted I open to you as a window opens out onto rooftops arms spread wide ready to take in the rush should I fall narrow cobblestone to catch me while the streets are still with empty morning The bed beckons, sheets lay devastated across the wise mattress ripe with memories and I Shut the shutters that have let the cool smell of wet stone in this night from thunder like an airraid over the city that brought in the rain and the war between us

This Poem was Critiqued By: Wayne R. Leach On Date: 2004-02-27 20:11:00
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.35294
Very strong piece with the numerous similes, the consonance, the alliteration, and the use of smell, sight and sound. Yes, even the sense of touch. Wonderfully composed and brought to that excellent surprise climax. I never would have expected the "war", only a possible lost love or the making of love. and I give in to - [wonder if the "to" would be better moved to begin the next line.] these delicious aromas like foreign countries -Excellent work. The 2nd stanza is perfection. In stanza 3, should it be a "wide mattress"? Maybe not, maybe an intended personification?? If so, GREAT. Write on, poet!

This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2004-02-23 19:18:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Hi HJ, First and foremost, welcome to the TPL site! I hope you are enjoying your interaction here with fellow poets. Yes, just like you…I have learned a lot from these guys. “These Delicious Aromas Like Foreign Countries” --- From the title itself, I find it already a winner. You poetic skill is obvious in this line. Your work flows easily, entertaining my time in reading. You have captured that special moment with so much words of passion. One can easily picture out the images you portrayed here. Your choice of words are effective. “these delicious aromas like foreign countries no concept of the currency accepted” --- So original! Clever! Your irresistible adoration to your lover is evident here. You put the casual and daily bedroom interaction with such depth and meaning. I appreciate the use of “window”, “cobblestone”, “orange rinds”, “air raids” and others as metaphors. It brings color and life to your fiery subject. “ripe with memories” “shut the shutters” --- These are just phrases that I enjoyed a lot! “from thunder like an airraid over the city that brought in the rain and the war between us” --- What a delightful ending! These are unforgettable words! So real…so true…so normal yet entertaining! You just know how to amuse your readers. Bravo! Thanks for posting this for our enjoyment! As I said earlier, for me this is a winner! Now, I know why readers comment on your masterpiece here. :) As always, Erzahl :)

This Poem was Critiqued By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2004-02-18 20:03:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.46667
This is a very interesting work in a number of ways. I am a bit repulsed by the first few lines, since the aromas and things you describe sound a bit foul to me (an ardent non-smoker). At the same time, the part of the title "foreign" should clue me into that happening. The other part which is foreign to me is the smells. I lost my sense of smell long years ago in a head injury. I had a very strong sense memory episode when I first read this poem, so thanks for that experience, as it hasn't happened for a while. Even though the memories that you evoked were a bit unpleasant, the fact that they are still there is a boon for me. I had some sincere memories of my childhood. Also a bit disarming is those memories against the clearly intimate setting. So for me, this poem spoke some volumes just in the first stanza. I also like the feeling I got in this poem of some sort of loss or other conflict, but it's quite understated, as wars go. It's more like you are imparting to the reader the sense memory of your former relationship. I hope I have seen that correctly. Super good job on this poem. Really good stuff is coming out this month! Thanks, REEG!

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-02-18 19:27:22
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
These delicious aromas like foreign countries Wow.... Parisian bakeries..Prague sparrows dramp from a light rain... incense, tea ceremonies Llamas and lapis and Canadian snow - what a gloria munda your title is! Come back to bed skin smelling of coffee grounds and cigarette {the way injambent works I thought you said "cigarette arms" so maybe you need "smoke" after cigarette or a line break of maybe its me.. arms like orange rinds wrap themselves around me and I give in to these delicious aromas like foreign countries no concept of the currency accepted aha...yes.... I open to you as a window opens out onto rooftops a window does? Well, maybe in Prague or Brussles or something arms spread wide ready to take in the rush should I fall narrow cobblestone to catch me [ouch! vivid} while the streets are still with empty morning [or maybe "empty with morning"] The bed beckons, sheets [lie] devastated across the wise[clever of it - and you] mattress ripe with memories and I Shut the shutters that have let the cool smell of wet stone in this night [i feel cold!-excellent} from thunder like an [air-raid] over the city [thunder]that brought in the rain and the war between us ah yes...wonderful ending to a tactile poem which delivers all that the amazing title promises. welcome aboard!

This Poem was Critiqued By: Carolyn Minsker On Date: 2004-02-13 17:51:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear hj elliot, my senses were immediately stirred by your title, urgently arousing a curious sniff: and finding the quality to my taste it was as if I breathed deeply the words in your poem. "Come back to bed" a compelling salutation if there ever was one. Suddenly hovering, with the cobblestones below us it is with a faraway realization that we are no longer in the beckoning bed, of course not. Shut the shutters against the chill rain, and the spectre of the war with its air strikes. Please submit this poem for publication somewhere, anywhere, it is heady with flavor! Sincerely, Carolyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-02-10 14:52:40
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear hj, Glad to have you at TPL:...hope you will stay! This is a lovely story about two people very much in love. The imagery you portray is delcious to read...which I have done several times...."skin smelling of coffee grounds"...no sweeter morning smell to a serious coffee drinker...it wakes up the senses and begins the day...."I open to you as a window opens out onto roof tops..arms spread wide"..these are such sensual words and fit nicely into the theme of the poem...."ready to take in the rush should I fall, narrow cobblestone to catch me while the streets are still with empty morning"...I love 'streets are still with empty morning'...beautiful phrase. "sheets lay devastated acorss the wise mattress ripe with memories"...again very sensual which compels the reader to keep going. ...."from thunder like an airraid over the city that brought in the rain and the war between us." At first I was confused with 'the war between us' but then I thought about it and related it to the 'devastated sheets' and I now believe you are not speaking about actual war..but rather tumultuous love making between two lovers. I hope I have not fractured your meaning here but I just want you to know how beautiful this poem is and how it makes me feel...and that is, I think it is about making love and not war. Hope to read more of your work and welcome to TPL. Blessings...Marilyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: Robin Ann Crandell On Date: 2004-02-09 13:00:57
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
hj, What an exceptional piece of work. Your wording flows with ease, as this poet can visualize each and every stanza. and I Shut the shutters that have let the cool smell of wet stone in this night from thunder like an airraid over the city that brought in the rain and the war between us I can just smell the "wet stone" and imagine that I "shut the shutters." The bed beckons, sheets lay devastated across the wise mattress ripe with memories This is so vivid.. and alive in my mind. You have written.. I am lost for words as this poem is loved by this reader. I would not change a thing. Great Work. Robin.

This Poem was Critiqued By: thomas romanelli On Date: 2004-02-08 01:22:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
hj...i think you are a talented poet, though i must say, this one is very poorly written and has me totally confused. the rhythm is nice, but the flow and the words are jumbled and much of it doesn't make sense. is it morning? is it night? do you mean the aromas remind you of foreign countries? are you saying you give into them as a foreign country would give in to them? or do you mean you would give into them as you would give into a foreign country? it's unclear. i think your idea is good, but not good enough to compensate for poor presentation. i know you are capable of creating great poetry, hj, but i don't want to "sugar coat" this critique--that would be misleading to you.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mick Fraser On Date: 2004-02-08 00:50:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
OK Heather; I hope that you get BIG recognition in February for this piece. It is on my voting list for sure. Bear with me as I try to give you a critique that does justice...very tough given the excellence I am reading from you. The blends of imagery...more sensory...I could taste, smell and even feel the scents and imagerery that you described in the first stanza. I was in bed with you experiencing it all. OK..you challenged me with what you said...foreign countries (turkish came to mind)I was lost in the simile and happy with how your words exhilarted my senses. "As windows open to rooftops".....I am happy that you followed that with the arms and cobblestone....empty morning...wow. The sheets devasted...God who wouldn't want to know? But then, the agnst...the struggle of your love like foreign countries fight...I love it all. This is truly moving and written better than most I have seen here. I cannot offer any suggestions for improvement. I am pleased that you chosen to share this on TPL. Mick

This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2004-02-08 00:48:40
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Superb poet.......I believe this is the second poem of yours I have come across this early morning and both are superb......your structure and word flow allow the poem to just flow and roll, bringing forth emotion, images and in this case smells too........you leave the reader wanting more........that is really great.....thanks for posting and sharing your talent withus....be safe, God Bless, Claire

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-02-04 22:12:08
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
hj: Welcome to The Poetic Link! It's exciting and refreshing to encounter a new voice here, and I'm very glad you've signed on. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this poem. Your original voice and the way your words evoke memories and emotions make this work a particularly attractive one, at least for this hungry reader. A few comments: Come back to bed skin smelling of coffee grounds and cigarette (singular noun is unexpected here - it 'pops' nicely!) arms like orange rinds wrap themselves around me -- grand simile - striking & humorous and I give in to these delicious aromas like foreign countries no concept of the currency accepted Though this poem is 'free' in structure, poetic crafting is delightful - in sounds like the 'c' - at first hard, then loosening to 'ss' in "concept/currency/accepted" above. I open to you as a window opens out onto rooftops arms spread wide ready to take in the rush should I fall narrow cobblestone to catch me while the streets are still with empty morning Again the 'catchy' hard 'c' sound in 'cobblestone/catch' and 'beckons' as well as the definitely plosive b's in 'bed/cobblestone/beckons' - lovely textures The bed beckons, sheets lay devastated across the wise mattress -- WONDERFUL! ripe with memories and I The repeated short 'i' is especially disarming Shut the shutters that have let the cool smell of wet stone in this night from thunder like an airraid over the city (lush sound again in 'airraid/rain') that brought in the rain and the war between us Wonderful sounds in "shut/shutters/thunder" - and I realize I am going on too much about sound. The atmospherics, the sense of longing, the sensuality of this piece are sheer delight. The final line's melancholy note lends a haunting quality to the work. Overall, an exquisite read. I will look forward to reading many more entries. Because of the timing of your submission and the contest period for January drawing to a close, you might not receive as many comments presently as would ordinarily be the case. Please don't be discouraged. Your poem won't appear on critiquing lists unless critiquers have worked their way through an entire month's entries. I found this quite by accident! Happily so. Again, welcome. My very best to you, Joanne

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2004-02-03 13:49:28
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
heather, wonderful. you stoked my imagination. gave me some lift. there is nothing nobler that can be done. in the intellectual realm. you blew open the gate of my little hut with your expansive metaphor. and what a fresh wind it is i feel. kudos, mark

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-02-03 10:38:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
I was certainly shocked to see this end in war. So your perfidious turn was a success. I like the concept of the smells/foreign country parallelism. And though I abhor cigarette odors, I love the concept of smoking as it applies here and so often in film. It has a sultry kind of casual relaxed appearance - very self-absorbed in and yet drifting like the smoke... Your segue from "ripe with memories/and I" into "Shut the shutters" was clever and well conducted. You set us up for the ending with the thunder and the rain, with the nonsequitir "airraid" and if the sirens didn't call me then, they certainly should have. Enjoyed this, as well as your last piece which I failed to comment on directly. But I did enjoy that one as well. Your poetic voice and stance are unique and fun. Thanks for your efforts, and for this opportunity to comment on your cleverness. All the best. tom

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-02-02 20:48:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
heather--My first review of your work and I liked what I perused. The title attracted me to the read, but your first line, "Come back to bed...," was the "hook" for me to continue (being a red bloodied American male-smile). A combination of alliterations (skin smelling; cobblestone to catch; bed beckons; out onto; shut the shutters; an airraid) and similes (arms like orange rinds; aromas like foreign countries; as a window opens out; thunder like an airraid) creates not so subtle imagery of amorous activities. In additiion, the personification of; "The bed beckons, sheets lay devastated across the wise mattress ripe with memories..."(WOW!), really leaves no doubt as to what has been taking place in that room!!! This is an excellent very, very, sparesly punctuated "free verse" that uses apt line breaks as well as unique, fresh poetic descriptors to present a superb story/poem. Thanks for sharing this exciting piece with us at TPL. TLW

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