charles r pitts's E-Mail Address: cdognu4fun@yahoo.com

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Poem Title	Poet Name	Critique Given by charles r pitts	Critique Date
Sometimes	Kenneth R. Patton	the greatest battles ive ever fought, the worst suffering endured, the strongest fear ever faced, the deepest pain and heaviest burden carried, the toughest challenges ive ever struggled with have all been born from internal conflict and the wrestling with my own mind. sometimes it is best to leave it be.. this is cool especially with the add. notes. charlie	2005-05-17 17:42:38
Walking In Morning	Nancy Ann Hemsworth	simply beautiful. i was taken back while reading this to when i thought these very words. so eloquent the simple message delivered, but in such a way as i feel that old pain that comes with loving another unreturned. we see what causes their shoulders to sag, their head to bow, their shoes to shuffle, and we have the cure they so desperately seek, yet the blindness of love prevents them from seeing. and as we yearn to love that one so desperately in search of and in need of it, our hands are tied by they, our captor. excellent, makes you stop and think for a moment. charlie	2005-05-17 17:35:15
Around the Block	Mell W. Morris	was so hoping this was your original work. i was getting all worked up until i read the end credits and realized that i would have to wait yet longer for an entree from you with which satisfy the gnawing hunger left by the absence of your mental victuals. know that while we wait for you to cook...we hunger. charlie	2005-05-17 17:25:29
C'mon	Kenneth R. Patton	had to read this a few times but i think i got it. those work-a-day boredom blues. seems to me like you're staring out your work window, maybe it's a beautiful day, mybe not, but you're worn down from the work week and daydreaming about the weekend. maybe a hot date, maybe life is good, or maybe you're just full of yourself, but you're thinking about anything but your job. you're trying to hold on til quitting time, but your inner child is dying to turn loose. you're looking at your reflection and thinking of a zillion things you could be doing but aren't. is that the 24 hour bug i feel coming on? do i need to leave early? im probably way off, but if this isnt about longing for days of old, when youth and reckless abandon were your partners, well it ought to be! nice one. charlie	2005-04-21 08:19:32
Promised Sight	Paul R Lindenmeyer	i may be wrong but i sense some bitterness here. like maybe personal faith has been tested. or could be a contemptuous sneer to the devout religious masses. i have no idea what the pool of siloam is. sounds biblical (hope i dont sound too heathen) kinda like a sodom and gomorrah pool or something. anyway, it makes a nice sound when i read it, and even though i dont know what it means, i still like it. like how u gave each line a religious slant : graces, spiritual, faith, spittle (where else but the bible?), redemptive(redemption), and the whole last line reads like straight from scritpure. very good. charlie	2005-04-21 05:04:46
Hanging Tree	John Dean	this poem does have a rhythmic, lyrical feel to it, and i was reminded of that old zeppelin song -gallows pole-from the words, but this didnt seem like a rip-off, rather, it has a fresh feel to it. i like story feel to it and it seems complete (maybe another stanza telling why sleeping with this girl doomed you to hang), im just a little confused at the end. my take is that you died from the hanging. but when you say "As we lie by the hanging tree" it seems to contradict that notion. if you are dead here, i think "as im swinging from the hanging tree" would be better (u could even say "as we swing" and say "in the tree"). good poem though. charlie	2005-04-19 04:14:25
Subtle and not so Subtle Racism	Mark D. Kilburn	i was born with mixed heritage, the product of poor white southern sharecropper (father) and more affluent bible-thumping, fire-and-brimstone, blue ridge hillbilly (mother). as a result, racism was as natural a part of our belief system as our belief in god. i grew up in a small, country town in nc where racism was shared among everyone like a good story or joke. it never felt quite right to me, but there wasnt really any minority opinions going around that offered any alternative viewpoints. i felt strange in social settings when a black friend of mine would be with the gang, and everything was fine until he left. sooner or later, a comment would be made and snickers and giggles would follow. i tried to play along, but felt embarrassed and sickened on the inside. then at 18, i joined the army as an infantryman and was shipped 1st to ft. benning, ga (for basic), then to ft. hood tx. thus began my journey to self-discovery. i decided to make my own mind up about what i believed in, what was right and wrong, and what i valued. i began to realize that my own color of people had done worse things to me than any other race. in tx, i was roomed with a young man from flint, mi who was as anti-white as i was anti-black. and wouldnt ya know it? after a tense first few weeks, we became as brothers. and another guy down the hall? he was hispanic, but his heart was as true as any i'd known. i decided everything i had been taught was BS, and that a person's character was the best gauge of integrity. a few years ago, i read roots by alex haley (having never seen the series), and malcolm x (loved that movie). it made me so ashamed to even be white. though i played no part those atrocitied, the blood in my veins came from those who did, and if i would have lived back then, i may have. i began looking for the subtle racisms you speak of in this piece. its everywhere. it is painful to hear other "whites" talk about how blacks ought to just "get over it". that it was a "long time ago" turning a blind eye to the continuing effects 400 years of slavery still has on black people. i have to stop here because i get so angry at how little progress we've made, and the glossy cover we put on this ragged, disheveled tome. i like everything about this poem. if it was mine, i would choose a poetic structure (renga, cinquain, sonnet, etc) and chisel down this piece to fit it. the topic, the info, the delivery are all most appropriate, most desperately needed. the right vehicle to present it could open some eyes. thanks charlie	2005-04-17 21:33:39
Letters	Audrey R Donegan	having served in the army, i feel you on this one. alone, lonely, and states away, my only connection to her was through letters. longingly i waited for basic training to end so that i might see her again. afterwards, the months between leaves was torturous. as my letters became more passionate, urgent, and desperate, hers became more "drab and uninviting", colder, less frequent until inevitably, they stopped altogether as she moved on with her life as i turned circles in limbo. but throughout, my memories of her, and of us, had grown so in stature, become so ideal as to be seemingly change how and who we were. this poem brings back memories of that old pain, that deep ache that only lost loves of youth can claim. -The wait will be the death of me. -It stirred me woke my nodding passion Reminding me of your wanting eyes begging for one more glance. these lines really capture the wanting i felt very nice charlie	2005-04-11 05:12:22
She speaks	Audrey R Donegan	ahhh-perversion. that ever-so-tempting siren whose song knows no native tongue, yet none can resist. at first, i thought this was a description of a sexual encounter you had with another girl, a neighbor or good friend perhaps. a hot summer day, two girls swapping stories of budding sexual encounters. youthful exuberance leads to curiosities that are pursued by her, relented by you. bolstered by the passions of youth, invulnerable through innocence and ignorance (not the bad ignorance, but the unknown kind) cares and fears thrown aside in pursuit of life. but upon rereading, i sense that the she you speak of is perversion herself, and this poem describes her seduction of you, and your rationales for surrender. i may be way off, but reading your submissions, and offering my own reflections is its own reward. look forward to more from you... oh yea-and youre just 23? charlie	2005-04-11 05:01:00
Daddy	Audrey R Donegan	by the time ie end of the first st got to "kindergarten bones" i felt i knew where it was going. but my mouth fell open by the end of the first stanza. how incredibly vivid the emotion you have penned here. i feel the bitterness and resentment (though those words are wholly inadequate to describe what you must have felt living it, remembering it, and writing about it). "Your number one girl" this line makes me think of adark bedroom, the only light spilling in dimly through an open door. quiet footsteps, sleepy eyes, and whispered words that arouse a queasiness of something wrong, something not understood, but something impossible to compromise or negotiate. betrayal, in the worst way, and predatory promises with the worst intent. the 2nd stanza reveals a piece of difficulty in later years of loving and being loved by another, of forming relationships, and of knowing the difference between physical and emotional love due to the repeated abuse of trust, of affection, and of interaction, and all in a few words. the 3rd stanza merely scratches the surface of the myriad of questions you must have for him, but your choices for inclusion show an attitude of contempt, and have the tone of disgust, anger, and acceptance; an odd combination for such an experience, but totally admirable and applaudable. "with eyes the age of time herself" my absolute favorite line, so expressive, so descriptive, so perfectly apt that i wish i had penned them myself. and finally, the end. your comparison reveals that, to you, he is that which kills you. he is that thing that is eating you up from the inside out. like a parasitic disease, his presence, his influence is death. death to love, and death to life. bravo for your courage to share this. others dealing with this same affliction will read of your pain and gain some leverage, some sense of comeraderie where once there was none. you spit this inhumanity, this atrocity, back in the faces of all those responsible. my deepest, heartfelt sympathies to you for the horrible ordeal you were forced to endure. but i feel that sympathy is not what you seek or need. u seem very strong, and i admire the mind you posess, it will carry you far. never forget that these things that have happened are not who you are, just things you went through. you can still be the person you want to be. very best of luck to you audrey, hope you stick around here awhile.... charlie	2005-04-11 00:06:31
Half	Latorial D. Faison	these 3 little lines speak volumes. its as if ur saying, i put my heart and soul into us, i gave everything i had to keep us together, and u leave and take it with you. those empty feelings of hollowness, as if a part of you is really gone. functioning seems impossible, survival irrelevant. once they leave you, the remains left over are just inadequate to continue. i really feel you on this, as ive felt that the someone leaving me is taking my love, compassion, affection, understanding, and caring with them, and without those elements, life is not living, its merely being alive. so much contained in 14- your gift is truly saying much by saying a little. this one made me think. charlie	2005-04-10 23:20:50
For Dead Fathers Who Live	Latorial D. Faison	you know, this really hits home with me. my parents split when i was 8, and for the next 5 years i spoke to him roughly once or twice a year (usually when mom made us ask for money) and didnt see him at all. the memories i have of him are of an angry, abusive negligent person who saw my brother and i more as hindrances he would rather be rid of than his own flesh and blood. a couple of times (once my brother and i were of adult age) he half-heartedly tried to be a part of our lives, but it was short-lived, and a toss-up as to who regretted it more. for the past 8 years he finally stopped pretending to care, and i have neither seen nor spoken to him in 3 years. the man that replaced him in our home was an alcoholic who seemed to feel much the same way as my biological father, only softening his last few years until he died in aug 2003 from cancer. -Where have you been All of my life? -being dismissed -Disregarded, discarded -Left to find my own way Lies, lies and more lies these lines i found especially apt. how many times did i ask myself these same questions or think these same thoughts? you really transmit the rage that is carried inside from betrayals and abandonments such as these, but in that somewhat-civilized manner that accompanies the telling of truths long studied and pored over. looking at the similarities and differences of our paternal influences, i cant help but feel a little envious of yours, as sometimes it seems best not to know. thanks for helping the healing.. charlie	2005-04-10 23:14:53
Why and Far	hello haveaniceday	i sense true loss here. loss has many faces, many behaviors, and here you have captured one for all to see. an excellent exhibit at the emotional zoo. A whispered name upon the snow- so much longing here in a few words. A press of thoughts my meal today- ive gnawed on this entree before. an empty feast thats always too tough to chew. I call you call my name your name- this is such a revealing line. it shows the depth of devotion and want. How our hearts strain to sing the blues- beautiful nice rhythm- im such a sucker for lyrical poetry charlie	2005-04-05 19:48:10
Rain	marilyn terwilleger	i like this one marilyn. the second line is my favorite; it really suggests some secret, majestic, mysterious life of rain. it actually seems a little out of place between the first and third, as it makes them seem all the more ordinary, unworthy. there is tremendous power and possibility in that line. i hope that you will take it and tell more of its story. charlie	2005-04-05 18:53:21
Water Spirits	Latorial D. Faison	Mysterious. Somewhere, someone (several someones) faced death by drowning rather than face some atrocity. Interesting. There are several historic incidents that this could apply to, but the specifics are not what is needed here. What makes this poetry is that any specifics are omitted. Here, only the sacrifices made are given any import, and related in such a way as to be universal, becoming less about people drowning at sea and more about the pain of injustice and inhumanity and the suffering and loss it causes, but at the same time, the glory for those returning home. Beautifuul. What I like best about your work is that your ability to say more with less is improving, and also your work is becoming more thought-provoking. Keep it up! charlie	2005-02-13 13:36:09
Stranded at a Signless Crossroad	James Edward Schanne	Is this about the indecision one feels when faced with a totally foreign, alien situation or predicament when one is at a total loss; having no prior knowledge, experience or background to draw on? Or could it be about being mired in a mid-life crisis, where for no good reason, things just don't seem right? I feel like the last stanza is describing the the desire to reach down and give your pair a good squeeze for motivation, sort of a gut-check if you will. Your ability to keep producing new vocabularies that somehow seem to have a common thread is most impressive. Seems like I never read the same words in your poems. Ever try writing in a different format? Drive on... here's a few suggestions to help with syntax (semantics?) desolve-"dissolve" cave in-"cave-in" wolf pack-"wolfpack"	2005-02-13 12:45:07
Seasons and Flight	Mark D. Kilburn	how refreshing to see a poem that rhymes! sometimes i feel like i'm the only one. i really like this mark. lots of imagery and your wording is descriptive; painting the pictures for the readers in splendid color. i could almost sing this, and it's subtlety is calming. i have included a few suggestions for you, though this poem stands strong on its on. there's just a few lines that would seem to flow better if you dropped a few words, but this poem dances to the beat of your rhythm, so if these put the piece out of step, just disregard. thanks... charlie wings as cool as melting snow-drop the "their" "lots" to say blue as water-such a sight-drop the "he's" crows turn cold sky black-drop the "a" spring's alive-contraction birds return to warmer skies-drop the "the" sneaks in like midnight thief- drop the "a"	2005-01-26 11:55:26
"What is a Tsunami?"	Latorial D. Faison	I found myself moved in two places here: first, in the third stanza with your concept of "a day of less". what about "lifeless" instead of "clueless"? Clueless doesn't seem to fit in with the powerful words that follow it, but the feelings and images your words provoke here strike deep emotions. second, your last stanza, particularly "only those who have seen the depths of so many lives with death in tow." conjure a somber sadness both from the mental images, and just the pronunciation and intonation of the words themselves. very nice...good to see you again by the way. Happy holidays! Charlie	2004-12-30 06:03:49
Renovating Thoughts	James Edward Schanne	Try as I might, I just can't make a connection with this. I vaguely feel I'm grasping something one moment, then a cluster of words blows my theories out of the water. Seems you are describing various thought processes using carpentry as the vehicle. 1st stanza- buzzsaws, fitting pieces, and nailing notions could describe how the brain takes bits of info from the past and the environment and uses them to construct new meaning. Get the 2nd and 3rd lines, but 1 and 4 loses me. 2nd stanza- hammering, landscapes, fumes, could be suggesting how we create our own world, often from the wreckage around us with few blueprints to work with, and little idea on the finished product. 1st and 3rd here less vague, but 2nd and 4th destroy any ideas I might have. 3rd stanza- only get the 1st line here. While gawking at the world around us, we can often miss other things. last 3 lines just make it hard for me to connect previous ideas to, and are confusing as to the message. couplet further loses me, and I find that reading this is more work than pleasure. I'm sure that people really in the know about poetry completely understand this, but I can't make heads or tales. Forgive my ignorance. charlie	2004-12-26 12:48:13
Norsemen of Antiquity	Thomas H. Smihula	LIVE LIFE! for one day you will find that time has snuck up on you, and the hour is later than you thought. There are still many things to fulfill in your life. Roll with the changes and stay true to aspirations. There are many detours and hazards out there, but always keep your eyes on the prize. Do not be afraid of the new and unknown, yet investigate and educate yourself and make your own decisions based on knowledge and experience. Don't be led throughout the living of your life, instead carve your own path through the wilderness so that others may follow. Is this close? I hope so because I really connected with this. I had to read it several times to piece things together, and decided this was a better way to express my thoughts instead of a stanza-breakdown.	2004-12-10 03:14:44
Directions of Lost Passing	James Edward Schanne	Help me out here. I purposefully have avoided your submissions because I can't ever figure out what you're saying. Don't take that as a negative comment about your poetry, rather more a reflection of my mental laziness. The lack of punctuation and presence of only one capital letter makes it even more difficult for me to understand as I don't know where separate thoughts begin and end. Just when I think I'm getting a handle on a stanza, a line will pop up and screw me. But I decided I'm going to go after some of yours now in the hopes of gaining some insight into your work to help in the future, as well as trying to help you improve your poetry. The title doesn't really help much (even after reading), but I sense that maybe this poem is about how the passage of time seems to distorts historical perspectives (like the rewriting of the Bible, etc.). The first stanza I get until the last line. It seems that your saying that we are only human, and when faced with new situations, decisions, etc., we don't always make the choices. That in our haste and self-confidence, we often act impulsively, and others are encouraged to do so as well. #2 I felt I understood the most, and it is my favorite. It seems to make a comparison between our recollections of the future and a wind eroded rock formation with both, over time, losing the sharpness of their edges, and clarity of detail. #3 It seems to blame technology for distorted recollections as computers speed truths and untruths instantly, allowing widespread exposure and acceptance. I like the couplet at the end-I think it speaks truth in that the omission or alteration of certain undesirable aspects of the past are solely responsible for history repeating itself.	2004-12-10 02:23:56
Winter Waltz	Patricia Gibson-Williams	Sometimes I think people at this site have forgotten what true poetry is all about. It doesn't have to be fifty-cent words, suicide notes, or lost love heartbreaks. Poetry, great poetry, TRUE poetry is stopping to smell the roses. It is the breathing of life into the inanimate. It is the beautiful in the ordinary, the common, the everyday. All these you have accomplished with this piece. It seems the poetic zeitgeist of the day is that good poetry doesn't rhyme. What a crock! I love this poem's lyrical simplicity. Just like a gentle snowfall, these words meander lackadaisically, but with purpose. If a snowflake could describe its life, these would be its words. Very beautiful and well-written. Definately one I'm voting for, and one of the most refreshing submissions I've read here. Thanks for helping justify my own poetic beliefs. By the way, I'm sure ther will be plenty of snow in NC, come on up and check it out! C YA!	2004-12-07 07:34:33
FRACTURED FREEDOM	Mark D. Kilburn	Get out of my head Mark! You have submitted a very thoughtful, confrontational, and important piece of literature here. Not afraid to call a spade a spade, you deliver a very blatant message about the blindness and the fallacy of conformity. I love how you state the ridiculousness of outdated religious theologies, and their implications on society's progress. I grew up in an "always been this way" environment, and many times, feel exiled cooking my kill over an open fire as I watch my brethren gnawing on raw meat. How sad that the powers that be have not read your work. Perhaps if they had, we wouldn't have an idiot in the White House, a rascist nation teetering on the brink, and a planet in danger of global conflict. If more people embraced the ideas you presented, how great would our nation be? How great our world? Thanks for saying what needed to be said.	2004-12-07 06:46:35
#5 Comedy of Terror	Jana Buck Hanks	Always in nightmares As the evil approaches I run in place (My own humble submission of "comedy of terror") love your second line--"brilliant crystalline tears"--these are fun to say together in any order--something about the sounds of s-t-l blends maybe. and the last line has that odd creepy feel I always got as a child looking at faces on masks and dolls--like "Could they really see me too?" I am becoming a big fan of haiku-mainly due to ones like this. Thanks for sharing.	2004-11-30 13:16:14
November Elegy (connected haiku)	Joanne M Uppendahl	You know I couldn't resist.... Temperature guage Begins decreasing each day Bracing for the cold Leaves changing colors Shout a last, silent hurrah In gorgeous hues worn Skies gray and windy chills Seek to offset cheer and warmth The holidays bring And birds say goodbye Inviting you to come with By pointing the way Your first really captures the feelings you sometimes get when Autumn sets in. I sometimes feel the presence of death looking at naked trees shivering in the wind. And the second reminds me of the sense of loss that comes in the season of thanks as migrating birds seem more like deserters leaving me to alone to face what comes. The third you'll notice I shamelessly stole to use in my second. The fourth is my favorite. I love those "brassy" calls from the geese (love your use of that word!), and you really reveal the subtle sadness felt by losing (being left behind) something suddenly beautiful. What a neat format! Never thought of stringing them together like that. As usual, you have delivered yet again poetry that not only makes me think, it inspires me to write as well. Thank you. Good to see you again-	2004-11-30 12:46:04
Whispers (haiku)	marilyn terwilleger	Nighttime embraces Gentle hands cradle and soothe Rejuvenating A humble offering in response. Haiku are so fun! Hope you don't mind me sending you one but I just can't help it (ask Joanne). I love your use of "curtained" night, it really sets the mood of this piece, and whispers puts just the right subtle touch. And the whole second line, particularly the "lending" of laughter, adds a harmonious feel. Excellent as always--how about posting something truly dreadful for a change? I'm running out of laudatory comments!	2004-11-30 11:18:07
Great Blue Heron Sighting	Joanne M Uppendahl	My prolonged absence from here has starved my once hearty, robust lobes to rail-thin, famished folds. Its thirst for sustenance drove me back to this veritable smorgasboard for the mind. There were many tempting creations for my ingestion, yet I searched for your dish among the table of entrees. I had not a moment to lose you see as my famished, frail noodle had begun preparing to dine on its on folds, a sort of self-cannibalization I suppose. My desperation grew along with my diminishing strength until finally, at the far end of the table, my gaze settled on that which I so desired. You were there, and driven by my thirst, I stumbled toward your verbal oasis. As I drank deeply from your reservoir, I was reminded of the beautiful, the strange, the quiet moments of my own I have had throughout my travels, the moments that inspire poetry and self-reflection, and remembered the painful joy I felt that I alone was there to see and think, but with no one to share. With each bite I took, not only could I taste each individual ingredient, but I was there in the kitchen watching the preparations. May I have your recipe? This was truly beautiful. The picture you painted was more a mirror, and in it I saw me, catching a moment in time and making it mine. I also felt a hint of sadness, like the beauty of that moment was only temporary.	2004-11-30 10:45:48
The Door	marilyn terwilleger	This poem evokes the kind of sadness that only can only come with the loss of a loved one, either a child or a spouse. Whatever the case, this loss changes your life. This loss not only took a piece of you with it, it killed another piece that it left behind. Your ability to love has been crippled. The pain is so great that, rather than feel that again, you lock it away deep inside. Comfortless now, you find yourself returning to that door you reluctantly shut so softly, returning to the place where true joy once lived. How wonderfully expressive this is, you've really captured the finality, the sorrow, and the feeling of endlessness death brings. ------------------and warmth no longer caresses me ------------------ there is such longing and loss in this line. I linger beside the door, with quiet grace and outlandish sorrow--------------Though dying inside, the personal "quiet grace" of mourning this really made me think of my own mortality--very nice.	2004-10-25 04:45:34
Flower haiku #1	Joanne M Uppendahl	Begging your pardon your highness, I also forgot to copy my haiku from tree #3. I tried to email you but for whatever reason, couldn't get in; I'm probably doing something wrong. Anyway, I think this is my favorite haiku of yours yet. I just love the harmonics that fit so well with the picture you've painted here. The stark contrast between between the soft and jagged sounds fits perfectly with the delicate leaves of the iris and their proud invasion of an unbroken sky. Simply beautiful, the images envisioned. In proud defiance Irises pay skies in gold For their trespasses	2004-10-16 18:33:22
Tree haiku #3	Joanne M Uppendahl	So very nice to see you your majesty. To my chagrin, I have no copies of the haiku I sent you. If you still have them, you may email to me @: cdognu4fun@yahoo.com if you like and I will post them. I'll be sure to put a little dedication to you somewhere, as without your examples to give me direction, they would never be. I doubt seriously that I could have created those without your own to inspire and guide, but we shall see. "trees exhibit watercolor sounds"--the sheer softness and sublety of that statement, the images it evokes in the mind's eye, creates a feeling I can't explain except. The lost, inadequate words bouncing around my head seeking parents are truth, beauty, and perfection. Now, because you know it's coming... sorrowful willows bowed with the weight of the world watch as spring dances	2004-10-16 18:21:22
Moon Haiku #3	Joanne M Uppendahl	THIS IS THE MOST HORRIBLE DRIVEL IVE EVER READ!----(just thought you might like a change of pace from the hordes of accolades you receive with each submission)-------C'MON! LET'S GET A LITTLE CONTINUITY WITH CAPITALIZATION AND PUNCTUATION HERE! lol-tangerine-jack o'lantern orb-flirting with the stars are beautifully expressive--you must have some bottomless reservoir from whence this flows. citrus satellite greedily hogging the sky fat from fall harvest	2004-10-13 05:51:04
Moon haiku #2	Joanne M Uppendahl	Pure gold-have I mentioned lately that I'm not worthy? Thank you Joanne, for your poetry has opened doors for my own. Would love to get in that head of yours and see what's in there to create something like "reflected light stolen from the sun" --ahhhhh! food for the starving mind-- friendless, lonely moon waits in the dark for the sun like a lover spurned	2004-10-13 05:28:12
Moon haiku #1	Joanne M Uppendahl	Good morning Joanne-my little haiku queen! Tis the mysterious moon that you choose. And your poetic lens, Tends to blend all the ends, Delivering lyrical views. nice alliteration throughout--silver sickle just slips right out of my mouth each time I say it, and though it feels a little awkward, it's still fun (like those first few jumps on a trampoline). mysterious moon there is madness in your gaze or so it is said (this is fun)	2004-10-13 05:16:36
What In Dee' Hell?	Christopher T. Moore	Hmmmm-7/5/90---I was stationed in Ft. Hood, Tx and served as a mech inf. soldier from 2/89-5/91. How about you? Your poem describes a lot of the frustrations I felt on a regular basis busting my ass for Uncle Sam. Were you at Hood too? If so, do you still have nightmares about running around that cursed water tower? lol-- Don't know what was worse, the bald head, lack of FUCKS!(there were no women allowed in 11m), singing those ridiculous cadences, or being so far from NC. Ahhh! You just brought back a horde of memories--Damn you!--lol-only kidding- I feel you with this one.	2004-10-12 23:45:04
Mantles	Andrea M. Taylor	This is especially intriguiing. The wording allows for broad interpretations and the imagery personifies a vivid picture of the changing seasons in a unique way. Well done! You make me want to try my hand....	2004-10-12 22:35:10
Silence	marilyn terwilleger	The deafening roar of silence. I wonder how old you were when you wrote this, and what circumstances if any prompted this theme. A simple poem with simple words stated simply, but that carries the power of personal epiphany and leaves the mind begging to know the culprit responsible. Intriguing!	2004-10-12 21:42:52
Frozen no more	Nancy T Bindhammer	Though certainly not familiar with your experience, I find commonalities in your poem with a period of my life after my father died 8/26/03. By Christmas, I had hit the bottom of a depression I had skirted only the upper levels of all my life. I felt poisoned by the fear I would soon be dead, hatred of my own weakness, and anger at everyone and everything I blamed for my problems. I had lost my will to live and completely understand your words-"heart shattered will lost, nothing matters frozen in a place of hate", "cannot move, poisoned through not worth the time to move" I lay in bed for a month as the world passed me by, no more than roadkill on the highway of life. Kill, Die, "I WILL NOT" a part of me is screaming These lines perfectly describe my mindset when I decided to live. Courage where? Even if nobody else cared for my life, I DID! Anyone care? 'Yes' the answer is. Let those screaming pieces Yell and tell the tale of pain they will not come here - not now or again (This captures my new attitude perfectly.) I will not quit not now or ever Dammit Nancy! Never give up! Think of all you broken I am but will not quit would have missed already. hate, despair, anguish, fear - hit with all your might I am not willing to quit	2004-10-12 21:26:39
Tree haiku #2	Joanne M Uppendahl	Ahh Joanne-you've done it again, and a bit trickier this time. On first read I thought it lesser than the first, but looking closer, I found that same subtle brilliance but in a different guise. Here, it is not until the last line that true meaning hits home. Very clever, and the mark of great poetry. Love "when fall winds propose"--my humble offering: Fickle are the trees, Eloping with the first winds Abandoning leaves	2004-10-12 21:11:42
God's Kinder Garden (first poem)	Andrea M. Taylor	I feel privileged to have been allowed to share in such a personal, painful, private, tragedy. I can only hope, that in the face of such devastation I cannot imagine, I would have half the strength, half the courage you have had in sharing this terrible part of your life. This poem sets an example for all to follow. Something so very tender must be accepted just as it it. Thank you.	2004-10-12 20:42:28
SEASON’S CONSEQUENT	Debbie Spicer	I hope I'm not being too personal here, but this poem seems to be about being raped. Though I truly hope this is not the case, this piece could definately be used to help rape victims find release. "you required my flesh", "seize me unprepared." "Using your defiled grasp, invading me", "It was I who encountered the aftermath ...hid the secret.....intensely......even from myself." in the first stanza seem to scream of the personal horror, shame, and isolation that must accompany such an atrocious act of violence. You describe the ongoing process of pain, the relentless weight carried with the memory here-"Any even despite my fight, you would not cease." in the second stanza, but by the end, you begin to show the first steps on the road to personal redemption -"but that which you intended ever endured." And the third stanza ends with the proud defiance of one who has overcome great obstacles to be where you are-"As I remember the anguish of so many years ago, when I was seized so unprepared. I know now that I will prevail." Regardless of theme, this poem stands as a beacon, lighting the way for all who have struggled against great odds. Very brave to open yourself this way, and hopefully, very redeeming.	2004-10-12 20:38:28
A Child	Amour Stakwi'a Dresbach	Thanks for replying to my critique of The Dawn of a New Thought. It really cleared things up for me and I stopped feeling so inadequate. Now that I know the reasons behind your word choices, it makes your composition all the more extraordinary. To contemplate the complexities of the fallibility of man's logic is one of the most enjoyable, satisfying targets for poetry in my opinion. Nothing lends itself so easily to scrutiny and critique than the haphazard, often ridiculous ways of man. You could really give this poem a spark by comparing something as simple as a child's hand as it grows from the impractical instrument of destruction, into the pragmatic tool of grasper/manipulator (then back into destructive instrument for a real twist), with the stationary machine, redundant in its limited capacities etc., etc.....or some other examples to bring your comparisons to life.. Nice write in its simplicity	2004-10-12 20:24:03
Father's Time	Mark D. Kilburn	You have assembled some very revealing scenarios here that seem to encompass everything. Your words are simple and common, yet you combine them in a such a lyrical, casually conversational way that the message punches you in the gut. You matter-of-factly detail the pain, the scars, the after-effects of physical abuse that is pertinent, relevant, and all-too-real. Your rhythm needs some work in all but the 1st and 3rd stanzas, but that could be fixed with some simple wording adjustments. Otherwise, you definately have a piece of work worthy of publication. Your poem could be used to help the physically abused find their voice. they’re already numb on the outside on the inside they just go insane. Beaters boys often have hard times staying close to their lovers and friends painfully expressive	2004-10-12 14:21:21
Finding the Muse	Edwin John Krizek	Is it Calliope you seek? Or is it Euterpe? Or maybe Erato? Perhaps Thalia? It has to be a univeral rule somewhere that the harder you look for something, the more it eludes you. How many times have I labored over a word, or a phrase, or a concept to no avail, only to have it pop in my head effortlessly when I'm ill-prepared like driving down the road? Exceptionally illustrative are in the last two sentences. They make this poem what it is. The ocean of your urgency...the turbulent tides of creativity-ever-creashing and borne of passionate necessity... ahhh-just love those last 2 lines!	2004-10-12 13:42:16
Listen, Missy!	Andrea M. Taylor	I think you should drop the "will" in the 2nd line "Slowly friends will appear aloof" to promote rhythm and flow. Also in the first couplet, your 1st line is cause, 2nd line is effect, but that pattern is not consistent in the last two. You might try to make them cause and effect for contiuity. The second couplet is a bit awkward as far as its meaning. You might try some different wording to promote clarity. Overall, I really like this. It's short and sweet, and kind of cute.	2004-10-12 12:26:00
Tree haiku #1	Joanne M Uppendahl	I think your 2nd line makes this the fine work that it is. Many who write haiku focus more on the form than the content. Here your 1st line begins simple enough, and on first glance, one scanning first lines might pass it by. But the 1st sets up the 2nd. While the true beauty of your poem lies in "tethered to wind-scented limbs", the brittle stems speak of coming winter. I can almost smell the autumn in the air, and feel that first chill on the wind. Love the "wind-scented" limbs- such an vivid, original description. And the last line leaves you wanting a little more. I felt a subtle sense of futility while reading this as I also feel watching the leaves turn and fall each year. There is a distinct sadness I find during fall and winter, as dead leaves fall from the trees leaving them naked and exposed. You brought that to me in your words. Nice.	2004-10-12 11:45:32
If You Could Live Your Life Backward	Mell W. Morris	Very thought-provoking, and humorous. This poem seems like things you would think to yourself in a moment of despair, but very accurately put on paper. It's the little things that drive you crazy and make you wonder such things. As a crossword fanatic, I can identify. "careless ways with your Emotions" speaks volumes in just five words. In those reflective moments where you question your lot in life, these are exactly the questions you would ask yourself. "Fireworks viewed, inside you, too." My favorite line-very clever and poignant. An example of true poetry: revealing the uniqueness of a commonality.	2004-10-12 11:33:38
Shadow on the Wind	Jana Buck Hanks	Beautiful. Perhaps you were walking along the shore, and the blowing winds and salty smells of the sea brought your brother back to you. Maybe the two of you spent many days together on that shore, or one like it, but you took that moment, that remembrance, and captured it wonderfully. Nice alliteration here- Passages of Time that caught in a silver spider web Spun upon a looking glass. And this is so beautifully worded-Our unending future lives entwined That we shall meet again As shadows on the wind of Time. The best thing is that you express loss without sorrow. Well done.	2004-10-12 11:24:42
Incubating The Dream (Arthurian Ode Part II)	Robert Wyma	I love the rhyme scheme here. Almost "limerickal". Is this about the "Sword and the Stone" sort of? I am grossly ignorant of the medieval genre, but this poem definately has a noble, valiant air to it. "Ethereal dreams", "quarried by masons", and "chaliced in myth" are all wonderfully descriptive phrases that really pique the imagination, and your use of alliteration is sometimes subtle (emptiness fell like eternities edge) and sometimes blatant (dreams descended to clear daunting doubts). Very nice.	2004-10-12 10:13:11
The Dawn of a New Thought	Amour Stakwi'a Dresbach	This one was way over my head, and beyond my vocabulary. Was a difficult read for me, feeling like a verbal bombardment inside my head. But I'm no expert. This may turn out to be the greatest poem of the 21st century. Such is the beauty of poetry. I feel stupid when I read this, like there's something great in there I'm missing. Your choice of words does create a dream-like flow that is quite pleasurable, I just don't know what it means. By all means, continue...	2004-10-12 10:00:37
MY THOUGHTS ON POLITICS	TJ Daniels	I like this. Brief, direct, simple, but oh so accurate. Funny too. It totally summed up my thoughts on the subject far better than I could, in a hundred less words. Bravo. Some poems make you think, this one does your thining for you...	2004-10-12 09:51:08
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