This Poem was Submitted By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-06-11 10:14:36 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Goodbye, Ophelia, We Pine

                         On to pensive Poppy sleep - O Death!                           There in your stream of consciousness,                            Littered with Fritillaries and sorrow                             Violets spread beneath your Willow,                              Weeping now of your Daisied innocence,                                                      So certain was yesterday’s dream of truth,                             When the vowels of intransigence                             Sent your fair mind away.  Take a bow,                              As you exit life - O convenient Death -                               As this dirge follows you below.                             They who recall your songs heard                               In the soft babble of the green stream                               Whose gentle hands your locks carelessly                                Caressed, remember, yet must admit                                  To the conspiracy implicit in the finale.

Copyright © June 2004 Thomas Edward Wright


This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2004-07-02 11:47:01
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.08333
Ho, " Littered with "fritillaries"? Seems too clever by a half, to me. But what do I know. You can't help but be clever. For me, it would be too clever by the full dozen. Ok. The "vowels of intransigence." That's cause she sings; songs involve words; words contain vowels. I get that. And then the aural connection with "Willow," creating a very vivid link between those willows and those vowels that kill. I may not be clever but i'm imaginative. I think when you say "bow," you mean rainbow. Don't know how Ophelia could "bow" while floating on water. The task of critiquing, like a little water and some sun, has caused this poem to grow in my estimation. Your ear has been fine-tuned. Perhaps I'll shoehorn this piece into my list, with your Melville poem. Or replace the Melville poem with this. There are some big toes on my list. Poet, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered. Nox


This Poem was Critiqued By: Mick Fraser On Date: 2004-06-30 17:10:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi TEW TY for providing me the impetus to research Hamlet and Ophelia. I didn't know much before and probably know much more now...but your work does read like something out of 17th century...cool. Mick
This Poem was Critiqued By: G. Donald Cribbs On Date: 2004-06-14 12:03:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
TEW, I can see you're going with the response poem format here. Nice allusions to both BJ Tate's poems (I'm sure Brenda laughed out loud at this one) and Joanne's "Pine" poem. Equally wonderful is the fact that you can take such a challenge, and run with it. Your gift is a joy to share in the reading. I love reading these types of poems (you did one about Mark last month) by you and seeing the richness and the depth you bring to it in your own "scary bunny" way. Warm regards, Don
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2004-06-12 11:45:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
If this just came leaping like Topsy full grown out the top of your head you are even more amazing than I imagined! If it was there in a jar waiting for "Ophelia time" it is still pretty damn grand. On to pensive Poppy sleep - O Death! There in your stream of consciousness, {he he] Littered with Fritillaries[wow] and sorrow Violets spread beneath your Willow,[love that assonic leap] Weeping now of your Daisied innocence, daisied inncocence! - oh F. Scott listen to the man! So certain was yesterday’s dream of truth, When the vowels [whatta adverb! verb? whatever!}of intransigence Sent your fair mind away. Take a bow, As you exit life - O convenient Death - As this dirge follows you below.[how orpheous!} ah..but sing no sad songs for me They who recall your songs heard In the soft babble of the green stream Whose gentle hands your locks carelessly Caressed, remember, yet must admit To the conspiracy implicit in the finale. A conspiracy of dirges? {sorry} wonderfully clever and lilting and as great a response to Brenda's marvelous poem as is possible. I love when this happens!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Gerard A Geiger On Date: 2004-06-11 21:27:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.16667
Dear TEW; Pensive poppy sleep... Littered with fritillaries dasied innocence vowells of intransigence babble of the green stream... Man, I want to jump in your head for five or ten minutes... Great language....nuff said. Loved the work... Thanks for posting it on TPL. Gerard
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