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This Poem was Submitted By: Edwin John Krizek On Date: 2004-05-20 08:36:30 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Summer Rain

Moss in the gravel marks where bumble bees float like butterflies. Soon the rains will come. Nurturing life-giving water from heaven will soak the earth where the green leaves grow. Sensual, sexual jungle you live outside my front door. The birds call to each other and to me. I smell this jungle’s sweetness as I sit. Like a curious spider, I invade this space. I do not belong here. But, if not here, where? The old trees know everything. They tell me there is no more destructive animal than man. I, too, am responsible for my brother’s mistakes. I kneel in this thicket and pray for forgiveness. The rain washes me clean.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Marcia McCaslin On Date: 2004-06-06 18:44:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.63636
Edwin--you not only have given us a very descript physical jungle--but also a spiritual jungle--where we are but do not belong--where we have to accept responsibility for things our brother did but for which we too by our very existance are responsible. The jungle's sweetness--and a curious spider hold me spellbown throughout this extremely good read. Sensual, sexual--outside your front door. I do not live in a jungle, but I too experience the sensual sexual world of creatures outside MY front doors--the birds and bees, as it were--the cats and dogs and earthworms and ladybugs--b ut I hadn't realized all this until you made me look at it through your poem. An excellent poem--ending rain washes me clean--something every person I think longs to feel. Makes me think about the creatures too--cats, dog, horses, cows, who all "wash" their babies, head to toe clean with their tongues--and how the young love it, cherish it, want to recapture it all their lives. A very universal theme in most creative, fresh language. Best. Marcia

This Poem was Critiqued By: Regis L Chapman On Date: 2004-06-02 17:46:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Another spring poem that brings with it the hope of life and renewal for the character in the poem or the poet themselves. It's nice to read about these seasonal wishes, as we all can relate to them in these days. Don't you wish that every day could be a spring day? I know it hanged for us here on Memorial Day and began getting unbearably hot like it does here in the summer right on time. This reminds me of some of the passages from Lord of The Rings books about Fangorn forest. Not the part in the movie, as that didn't describe it properly. Great job with the very tactile aspect of the descriptions. Thanks, REEG!

This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2004-05-30 18:25:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.14286
Dear Edwin, This is a well thought out structured poem, that's easy to read and flows well. The only change I would make is in your following verse: Nurturing life-giving water from heaven will soak the earth change change the word will to "to", Nurturning life-giving water from heaven to soak the earth......... In essence I feel like I'm reading about nature, but I feel a hidden message from the writer that I wasn't clearly at this time completely comprehending. (I have the flu and I think it's throwing me off). Anyway, I really enjoyed this poem, and I hope you don't mind me suggesting that little change. Sincerely, DeniMari

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jordan Brendez Bandojo On Date: 2004-05-28 02:31:16
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.93548
Hi Edwin, My third experience in your wonderful artistry and I'm sure it is again a new experience. This one has a different theme with the previous two poems I've critique. This is oriented to nature, Mother Earth which is the source of bountiful graces. And talking about nature is like talking about God. The existence of nature is the existence of God in us. Speaking of nature also involves the discussion of Science which the later cannot explain. I am getting serious here, so let me go back to the poem... Rain is mostly yearned in summer when sunshine is too much for our experience. I am mostly touched with the idea because my my farther is a farmer and in this season my father starts to pray for rain because the plants in the field needs it. Just to tell a bit of my background. The poem starts with a love imagery: "Moss in the gravel marks where bumble bees float like butterflies." The highlight of 'm' and 'b' allits is wonderful to make a sound along the line. And the simile adds wonderfulness to the scene. So, when the bumble bees float like butterfly, that indicates that sooner the summer will come. Interesting nature-based idea! "Nurturing life-giving water from heaven will soak the earth where the green leaves grow." Yes, I do believe rain is really that important to grow the green leaves. I mentioned already how it benefits the farmers like my father. I really like the descriptions you have here: 'Sensual, sexual jungle' it is exotic more than the one in our province...to smell sweet...to hear the dulcet hum of the bird...and so on! This made me reminisce my experience in the province. I'll be going home this December, I am excited! The ending lines are poignant: "Like a curious spider, I invade this space. I do not belong here. But, if not here, where? The old trees know everything. They tell me there is no more destructive animal than man." How poignant! And you effectively created the tone! I agree that man becomes the destroyer of nature especially in the outbreak of modern technology. But if we care enough for our nature, we can bring back the old paradise-like earth. The ending is very effective as well. Really in your technique of writing that I began to see, striking and stunning! Now, I am aquainted to another fine poet and that is you! Thank you very much for sharing, Edwin. Good luck during the voting period. Jordan

This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2004-05-22 21:48:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Edwin, This is a lovely piece, with such rich and varied imagery. I appreciate the way you expand the microcosm of the wet dooryard into a commentary on the way humanity has assaulted and desecrated much of the natural world. The speaker's tribute to rain, as it nourishes the "sensual, sexual jungle" [very nice!!], links the water with flora and fauna, with fecundity and savagery, all interdependent. Only man seems oddly incongruous when placed amid such a symbiotic [and successful] environment. Like a curious spider, I invade this space. I do not belong here. But, if not here, where? The old trees know everything. They tell me [there is no more destructive animal than man.] I, too, am responsible for my brother’s mistakes. I love this passage! My only suggestion might be to drop the line in parentheses, as I don't think you need it and it is rather "telly". I believe you've already implied the negative impact of human existence by questioning your speaker's own place in this scene. "If not here, where?" I'm not sure, myself. Sometimes I think we've given up all claim to any place at all, and hold our ground only by virtue of superior force. The old trees know everything. They tell me I, too, am responsible for my brother’s mistakes. How does that read, to you? It's only an idea to take or toss. I think this is a superb poem on many levels, and one with which I can fully empathize. The last three lines are just perfect. Absolution may not be possible but we can, at least, seek it. The rain that brings forth Eden can also cleanse the souls of those who have lost their original Garden. Much enjoyed! Brenda

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-05-21 19:29:47
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
E.J.K.: You posted poems here quite a long time ago but I remember them. Welcome back and perhaps this time you can stay a while longer. I recall previous encounters with your poetry were lovely, lyrical experiences. Your title beckoned my attention as I love rain in summer, a surcease from the dreaded heat (Texas), and as you so aptly write: nuturing. Free verse is also my favorite form in poetry so you already are on a winning track with me. Moss in the gravel marks where bumblebees float like butterflies. Soon the rains will come. Nurturing, life-giving water from heaven will soak the earth where the green leaves grow. I do not cut and paste but like to copy out portions of the text in order to wrap my mind around it. Lovely imagery like "moss in gravel" lends a texture to your view of nature. The alliterative bees/butterflies adds harmony, a quality one wants in a nature poem. I also like the word "float" to modify butterfly and that they "mark the moss" is something I've never heard. Unique and fascinating. Water from heaven (it seems like that, doesn't it?) will bring new life, soaking what I envision as barren, dry ground. I already mentioned nurturing as it is the quintessential descriptor for summer rain. Sensual, sexual jungle outside my front door ....do you need "you live"?... The birds call to each other and to me. I smell the jungle's sweetness as I sit. When I tinker around or rearrange words, you are welcome to ignore these minor inputs but they are what occurred in my brain as I read your poem several times. If I do not find the poem worthy, I do not critique nor offer suggestions. "Sensual, sexual jungle" may be the neatest phrase I've ever read for nature's bounty which surrounds you. Bravo! The birds chatter to each other and include you in their conversation. Quite the lyrical concept. I smell the sweetness of your jungle as you describe it so well. I can even hear the whispering of rain on the leaves as it supports life. Like a curious spider, I invade this space. I do not belong here. But if not here, where? ...This is a sad line.... The old trees know everything. They tell me there is no more destructive animal then man. I enjoyed your simile of being like an invading, curious spider. Perhaps we do not belong there by rights but nature surely is for all to enjoy if they protect and respect their environs. I like the wisdom of the old trees sharing their knowledge with you that man is the greatest destroyer of nature. I, too, am responsible for my brother's mistakes. I kneel in this thicket and pray for forgiveness. The rain washes me clean. Beautiful ending tying all back to your theme of rain. The scene is grand where you kneel in the copse and pray for pardon for spoiling our environment as you take the blame for your brother. That displays more generosity of spirit than I possess. I would not litter nor pick wildflowers but I don't feel at fault for some gallooping redneck who tosses his beer cans out the window. (A big litter problem here). You have a pure spirit and feeling for planet earth. That comes through clearly in your poem which I enjoyed. Kudos for this tribute to mother earth and best wishes, Mell Morris

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jane A Day On Date: 2004-05-20 12:47:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Edwin, I think this is a lovely piece with fine images. In several places I feel you overwrite and instead it would be a stronger poem if you let the very precise world you have created speak for you. I think also that stanzas would allow the poem the breaths and pauses you seem to be seeking. Summer Rain Moss in the gravel marks where (a great start) bumble bees float like butterflies.(do we need this line? I feel float is enough and butterflies is not so interesting a comparsion as to add meaning to the image) Soon the rains will come. Nurturing life-giving water from heaven will soak the earth (i feel you could cut to the verb soak and start the line there. The rest we have heard before and soak powerfully conveys your meaning) where the green leaves grow. Sensual, sexual jungle you live outside my front door. The birds call to each other and to me. I smell this jungle’s sweetness (can you use another word besides jungle since you have used it right before?) as I sit. Like a curious spider, I invade this space. (I love this line!) I do not belong here. But, if not here, where? (and these as well!) The old trees know everything. (a great turn in the poem) They tell me there is no more destructive animal than man. I, too, am responsible for my brother’s mistakes. I kneel in this thicket and pray for forgiveness. The rain washes me clean. I like the ideas of the last lines but is there a way to show what the trees know in image and then the powerful repsonsible line. The rain washes me would be enough, maybe more detqail of who, it flods my mouth and so on because we know the clean. Thanks you for sharing your work. I look forward to reading more. Jane

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