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|Poem Title||Poet Name||Critique Given by Drenda D. Cooper||Critique Date|
|Among Lilies||Lynda G Smith||Poet, This poem is amazing! Although I have not critiqued in several months now, I was drawn from my self imposed hibernation to humbly offer some words of praise for this poem.....It piqued my curiosity at first reading and as I read it again and again, its deep undertones of meaning with its astoundingly beautiful phrasing impressed my sensibilities ....It is a word painting that encompasses a thought process that seems so familiar to me as I often philosophize upon life and death (such a "darkling process--love that choice of wording).....The whole poem has such an ephemeral quality that is open to ao many interpretations... "Lilies wrap my legs In ribbon curls To pull the limbs of my being beneath the meniscus of my thoughts. Their vagrant castings of crimson coils, promise to preserve that virgin nerve from the pickling white brine of memory." The choice of lilies as a symbol of spring and of renewed life is represented here with such tenuousness...much as is life itself.... "They encircle an ankle and linger with suckling pull within a tender hollow to shudder, to cull a liquid sigh, a last response to what was left undone." The words above remind me of the feelings I have during funerals..when I think of the things that keep us in the real world as opposed to the spiritual reality of our "beingness"... the doubts that plague me ...the sadness for the departing one ...that indomitable feeling of things being "left undone" ..the fact becomes obvious to me that I long for what cannot be..a clean break...a completeness to life that has ended....a contentment of "finishing"....a deeply moving sigh of relief that as long as I have breath left, I do not have to face my fears of finality.. "Are these the keepers Of last breath, Of life, or death, Or simply a servant of a drowning mind That spirals down the spirit Into the abyss of the unconscious." My favorite lines are the ending ones that remind me so much of the "seasonality" of life ..the cycles of the seasons....beginnings and endings ..endings and beginnings...the lilies symbolizing renewed faith and hope as again we are blessed with the spring and rising hopes..from our cold winter..so the llilies rise from the cold dark earth and reach for the sun, for new life and hope... "A darkling process… but from this deep cold storage, A baptism of belief In promise and possibility, Will rise with the lilies Come spring." I hope you have a Happy Easter...REading this lovely poem has renewed my faith that the artistry of words woven into a tapestry of beauty by a talented poetess can bridge the chasm between hope and despair...LOL...drenda||2004-03-29 19:19:39|
|Establishing Vocabulary||Mell W. Morris||Mell, What an erudite poem. Whatever inspired you to reach back in time to the very beginnings of the establishing of vocabulary?--I picture the spans of time as eons from man's first guttural utterings to each other, to the establishment of words,languages,refining the words into myriad uses-no longer just for communication but reaching ever higher and finally into the spiritual realms of perfection-that soul's appeasement long sought by many--perhaps it will be the language of the stars... Then on further assessment I thought to myself this could possibly be just the life of a poet-- the spans of time just the days of his life--from babyhood gurgling to learning to speak and then ,enamored with the sounds he can now make--begins to search for higher forms in which to express himself--Everyman's poet reaching ever higher for the right word, the best phrase, ever improving on simple rhyme --taking his ability to the highest possible level--Man's journey is that and it does make the trip somewhat less rocky if the poet does take the time to meditate and cogitate and fathom who, what, and where he is on this, his own scale of perfection --for it stretches into forever and is unending...so no matter what he does he cannot help but remain in the conundrum of the alpha--omega palindrome....I hope I have not been out in left field again..I often can conceptualize a poem without being able to explain exactly what I mean to say.. I just hope you realize how very far up the rungs you are now..man will ever feel incompetent to greet the Lord of tongues because he is, as yet, incomplete..... I enjoyed this whole thing........You are a wonderful poet!! ................drenda||2003-12-13 19:45:31|
|Poetry (in the Tradition of Science)||Jordan Brendez Bandojo||Jordan, Amazing is the effect of such a juxtaposition of two such subjects as chemistry (condensation and sublimation) and astonomy (moon and planets) so close together as verse 1 and verse 2 of this poem.......AND have it work so well...I find the interplay of these things just wonderful the way they are presented here..One thing just flows into another effortlessly.....Even the insertion of Physics was grand with the phrase "Light dances over Einstein's mind"...then to flow again effortlessly into the Biology of your most basic origin..sperm and egg from which we all emerge...ending with the YOU the poet -living, breathing, and versing poetry. You certainly were true to your title "Poetry (In the Tradition OF Science)" as you hit the basics (CHEMISTRY. ASTRONOMY--including the precision of MATHEMATICS with the precision of orbiting heavenly bodies, PHYSICS--BIOLOGY) and in such a poetic manner...It takes true talent to conceptualize SCIENCES in such a short space and do it so successfully..Congrats on a really fine poem...Of course, I enjoyed it for it was right up my alley (figure of speech)........................Keep them coming!!!!!........drenda||2003-12-13 18:58:35|
|No Use Trying to Forget||madge B zaiko||madge, What a sad, melancholy poem this is....By using the term repeatedly "Old wounds break open"..suggests to this reader that this is an incident from long ago ..these persistent feelings despite attempts to block them out suggest a certain hopelessness within the subject...this hopelessness is driven home by the last line and the title of the poem "No use trying to forget"..... There is a melodic sibilance in the second verse with '"sting, first, wasp, swell, swallowed, eyes, ice," etc. IT continues into the 3rd stanza with "spitting, spin, and spider." There is a songlike rhythm to this poem that one could almost hear it begging to be put with a melody and turned into a very sad love song... This poem is ripe with simile which brings in quite a few "likes" in the poem."like a wasp". .."like ice".."like spider webs" which is fine...Might I suggest, however, that changing a few words here and there might eliminate the need for so many repetions of "like"...Repetition has its place and I feel the repetition of "Old wounds break open" is used very effectively.. I enjoyed reading this one and and again it is highly "lyrical" and really should be set to music.... Good luck and have a happy Christmas......................drenda||2003-12-13 15:26:42|
|Saluting Robert Creeley||Mell W. Morris||Mell, Although I am not familiar with Robert Creely's poetry..I feel I've had a glimpse into his works by your "salute" to him...I may be wrong, but I feel that he must be able to very concisely express himself to the point that each word assumes rare importance and has to be carefully selected in order to do this. As you can see--HEHEHEHE!!!-I am overly wordy and so very unlike your favorite modern poet..that is one thing I know I need to work on..honing and paring down my thoughts into fewer words, thus making careful choices (as you do my friend) in vocabulary....I feel that you are saying that Creely has perfected this art..I thought your imagery in this poem was superb (as always) ..And you seem to be emulating this favorite poet in using words as pictures of thoughts themselves as in "smoke signals are noisy compared to his spare speech"..I loved the sibilance/alliteration with all of the s's..And the last line was a wonderment...I am still mulling it over..It strikes me at first as being a way of showing through "silent" imagery what needs to be known about Creely's work being so concise, spare, simple, select, and rare that it approaches as close to "silence" as language can do. I am probably way off, but I enjoyed the poem and feel that in its own conciseness it may be the best "salute" to your favoite modern poet.....................drenda||2003-12-13 12:53:23|
|japanese verse 30 (Vulture)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Erzahl, You seem to be taking both haiku and acrostics to new heights. Wow, it is difficult enough to get the thought into 17 syllables..but at the same time to do it so completely alliteratively with each major word starting with the syllable of the subject....and still keep meaning and continuiry....I have never learned to appreciate the "vulture" and just the word promotes such negative connotations....I know they have their place in nature and the scheme of things..but I find them as you intimate as "vulgar vandalizers"..I suppose we don't have to love every creature on God's earth..I don't especially care for cockroaches, mosquitoes, or fireants either..HEHEHEH!! As usual, you have done an excellent job in what is quickly becoming your "domain". I think you already hold the TPL's all time record in haiku both in quantity and in quality...thanks for sharing your talent with us......................drenda||2003-11-19 19:45:51|
|The Other Side||Mell W. Morris||Mell, I know that you must get tired of my same old rhetoric, but what else can I say ..You have done it again..You can take everyday things and weave a tapestry of wondrous words around it that immediately elevates the subject to new heights. Whether it be music, rivers. bridges, autumn leaves, or any number of subjects --you can take it and make it into poetry that is both beautiful and relevant....and always in your unique style with your uncanny abilitiy to use run-on internal rhyming to the limit without ever sounding trite or forced...You are a wordsmith to the utmost but more than that for your works always have such "heart", as if a part of you flows out and through them to the reader... I think the title was great ..OF course it brought to mind things other than bridges...so it was effective in drawing the reader to read the poem.. And then, of course, what are bridges for but for getting to the other side...and when one speaks of bridges one can get philosophical and read other levels of meaning into the words..I tend to do that even when the poet does not mean anything but what they have written..Ah, but that is the whole reaaon for poetry is it not? The poet can influence thought itself as it is in the mind of the reader that interpretations abound...and there are as many interpretations of the words as there are readers... "There's something about a bridge that pleases my senses and eases my spirit. Evolved from man's resolve to cross an abyss, ravine, or the sheen of a river, it becomes as sleepless as the water that runs under." Your timing and rhyming are unsurpassable..your use of the English language a marvel...and I remain in awe of your abilities.. There is something about your poetry that "pleases my senses and eases my spirit." The alliterations and sibilance abound, as always, through the entire poem...As below in the second verse ..such unparalleled sibilance with all of the "ss" sounds..Of course, the first verse also, with "cross, abyss, sheen, sleepless... "My favorite bridges are not formal, turreted arches but the old wooden, spavined spans that rattle as I pass. Covered with honeysuckle vines that twine along the railing, they assail with splendid scents. It's said that a bridge assumes most aspects" of the water around it, and serene or spumescent, this perfection of connection elevates my being. My focus then turns inward to locate traits I may assimilate from the streams and rills that fill my dreams." You also use words that are rarely used by others but are so appropriate in their context, form, and richness of meaning ..ie, spavined and spumescent... I am sure that many readers make use of their dictionaries and I for one, know that you have increased my vocabulary with your poetry... Another fine example of excellent writing by my favorite poet.............drenda||2003-11-18 20:13:08|
|Be Silent||Debbie Spicer||Debbie, First of all welcome back..I don't remember seeing your work for awhile...This one is just great..I have not read such an excellent rhyming poem in some time..The subject is one that relates to you well as one who has endured really hard times in life--who has fought the battle within--and has finally reached a state of reconciliation and "peace." ONe who does not stop there but rather reaches out and shares that sense of peace with others through writing about it..Yes, life is short and should be approached in the manner you describe here. "Be silent, for that is when you hear Wisdom of heaven and earth held dear Knowledge deep within the soul Comes quietly as we release control." The above is especially true for us "control freaks" (I was one once too) and you are so right in that we just more or less keep spinning our wheels until we stop and it is in that silence when we release that control that we finally "hear." That introspection that comes in the quiet time is where knowledge lies. "Be silent, the voice inside will speak The truths desired for what we seek Say farewell to afflicting pasts They have ceased and now have passed." Isn't is wonderful that our souls are calm and resilient underneath all the afflictions of our "personalities"?? And that once we realize the truth of what you say--that we can throw off the worst kind of abuse or horror and put it in its place as over ("ceased and passed} becoming part of our past but in a distant and non-hurtful place. WE may not be able to erase it--but we can learn to live happily in spite of it.. "Be silent, for soon there will be ease Despair and pain snatched by a breeze Life so short we ask ahead All days complete with peace instead." This is a lovely piece of work and I love the way each verse begins with the "Be silent". for that silence is the key to the peace you have found. The poem is not too long, nor too short, just right for the message it conveys.. AS long as we look to others to solve problems for us we are caught in a trap..IT is only when we realize our own strength through calling on the eternal parts of ourselves and listening to what we feel and hear from our souls that we become "free" and at peace. thank you so much for sharing another wise and beautiful poem with us.....all my best ....drenda||2003-11-18 07:49:41|
|Soul Unattended||Annette L Cowling||Annette, This poem certainly is intriguing and summons up the reader's imagination in attempting to decipher its meaning. It is esoteric and open to multitudinous interpretations. I love this sort of challenge, but often am wrong in interpreting such poems.. First of all the title is superb in pulling the reader forward into this poem. After all, souls are a very deep subject, indeed. "I am neither being pushed back nor pulled forward. It is everything else that is revolving around me. Too many pinecones weight down the trees. They ignore me, and they have refused my help. To them, I am a porcelain plate on the picnic table." Right from the start the subject of this poem takes an important stance...To say that everything else is "revolving around me" places the subject in a mysterious place.. the entire first strophe puts this subject in a separate place of importance which goes unheeded by those who do not understand where she is coming from.. I can't say who the "them" are, but obviously those who need to know more about the subject than that which merely ""meets the eye" implying a lack on their part of understanding her "depth".. Reference to a "porcelain plate on the picnic table" to me implies an "out of place" or "untouchable" quality that "they" have assigned to her which she proceeds in the rest of them poem to let them know that she understands more about herself and them than they give credit for. OR the majority are "distracted" by all that is out there before them and thus ignore their most important reason for "being" which is their soul..Why do they feel that the soul is such an "untouchable" subject.. When, of course it is the most important onr and should not be ignored or placed in "limbo" "But it should be known... That I have walked after dark on uneven sidewalks In the blue mist of London, in wide awake dreams." The remainder of the poem seems to me to explain that all those things so much a part of us , part of real life, are shared by our souls which are with us through all of our lives..are there for our reference and "help" at any time and are not to be placed in a "separate" place \ "I was the flower asleep in the courtyard, completely Unfettered, by the clamor of the 10 o'clock trains." These are some of the most meaningful and beautiful metaphorical phrases that I have read in a long while in a poem.. The part of us that should not be afraid ...is there calm in trials and tribulations of life .. "I'm the moonbeam gleaming in the mist where the Sightless grope in the darkness of their unmarked graves. That which remains immovable, implacable, and ever aware of our needs regardless of whether we realize it or use the power inherent in using the light in the darkness of our lives... "Let it be known! That I am a stone's throw away from the border Of this world and the next...I'm the soul unattended." The use of the last imperative "Let it be known" is more of a proclomation , ie, use of the exclamation mark...letting the reader know the importance of the last words of the poem.. Again such esoteric words are mysterious and yet explanatory of all of the above..for it explains who the subject is and from whence it speaks..Always there..waiting..to be used ..yet so often "unattended" during life..for it is the essence of what is eternal... Sad, beautiful, and relevant are your words and I enjoyed them greatly...I apologize if I am way off.. which may be ..Yet my take on your words will remain with me for quite some time..Hopefully, always... Good luck in NOvember..I see you have quite a few entries this month... Yours most sincerely,,,drenda||2003-11-17 09:12:14|
|Sweet, Sweet Music (II)||Mell W. Morris||Mell, Well, you have done it again. In your unmistakable style with the running interal rhymes is part II of "Sweet. Sweet Music". I love so many different kinds of music (and I do believe that you managed to incorporate most of them) that this was an absolute delight to read. ALOUD!! Because the sounds that this poem makes is music to the ears...You really hit on one of my all time favorites (Amazing Grace) which always gives me goosebumps when I hear it (especially on bagpipes)...I liked the rhythm of this ...you managed to merge poetry with music in this one..add a melody and you have perfection. OF course this one compared to Sweet Music I is less esoteric and more pragmatic in presentation (and rightly so)... I will not copy the poem and go line by line but to say that every line is filled with rhyme, rhythm, assonance, resonance, and alliteration.. You really hit a note with me on this one for I share your love of music as well as poetry and our tastes in both seem to run in tandem....Although I cannot make it (music, that is) I can certainly enjoy it, revel in it, from opera to jazz, for I , too, am "eternally smitten." In this poem your choices as examples of the genre of music you are typifiying in each instance was a marvel and allowed the poem to literally "sing". IT also gave the most umph! and OOM PAH PAAH imagineable in the brief space of this wonderful poem. Brevity is good. Music is good. This poem is excellent....... ..........What else can I say????.................drenda||2003-10-28 11:31:47|
|japanese verse 29 (Breeze)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Erzahl,, I do believe that this may be the best so far....No, that is not exactly true....there are others you have done that are as good or better, but this one tickled my fancy..HHEHEEEHHEEE!!! It echoes the bliss I feel when I look outside my window and see the lovely woods behind my house in this beautiful fall season..I have plenty of leaves giggling in pleasure as the wind whips them from their precarious places on the treelimbs. This haiku just moves along so smoothly that it is like butter melting in one's mouth. It is certainly about nature and leaves a pleasant taste in the mouth as the words are spoken aloud...You are certainly TPL's most adept Japanese verse writer...You have become our resident expert honoree on this kind of verse--and deservedly so...Simplicity is the key and you have certainly opened the door. I do hope you are considering a book of Japanese verse for publication...It would be a delight to see them all together between thepages of a book ...an excellent synopsis of life in minimal words that flow like little memories ...They are easily memorized and kept in the reader's mind to bring out at appropriate moments.. The ability to do this form well, as you certainly have, shows a very serious ( yet joyous) philosophical view and a very spiritual soul blooming into words ...I enjoy your works tremendously.......drenda||2003-10-27 07:38:04|
|After the Storm||Joanne M Uppendahl||Hi JOanne, I read "Role Model" also, but will critique "AFterThe Storm" rather than both of them. I am wondering what made you decide to change the last verse of this poem.. I go with my feelings rather than analyze them always.. and they were on this one that I preferred the "Role Model" last verse...which is not to say the revision is not also excellent..I did note the change in tenses..from past to present..in the latter..which added more consistency. "Today the rain calls to me, blowing leaves, squalling sideways tears. Spent flowers bent in mourning ricochet off the porch, pots tumble-- no sturdiness left in them. It has been raining here the past couple of days(nearly a week in fact) and I identified at once with that early fall feeling in the air these first rainy cool days bring. Your descriptives, as usual, are excellently executed beginning so simply, continuing in short little blasts of beautiful phrases. So perfectly capturing the essence of this rainy, fall day... How free these fierce gestures, the giving up of what has been, the leaning into what comes next Then to follow-up with what these observations represent to you..The way that nature works..a natural tendency to flow from what has been ..then leaning into what comes next....in essence the sun will most likely come out again and life goes on ...only you say it so wonderfully..and to end with the wet spider and the "continuity" that lies in that bobbling spider's beginning to weave her web again..I have the same thought when I absently knock down what must be a long night's work for some spider and watch it begin to reweave almost immediately.. This is a very reassuring and comforting and healing sort of poem..It gives the reader renewed hope..whether the sudden storm represents a deeper meaning or "loss" or is just what it says..it is nice to know that the instinct to "reweave" lies within us--just as the spider.. and it is "wisdom" to acknowledge that even on a grander scale we must give up what "has been" and lean into what "comes next"...LOL.......loved this one!!!!!............drenda||2003-10-12 19:31:43|
|Past||marilyn terwilleger||Marilyn, this hauntingly, nostalgically sad poem brings thoughts to the forefront of the minds of anyone who is marrried and truly loves their mate..How it would be to go on living without that loved one is what I can't bear to think upon...Unless we die together, I realize that one of us will have to live on through that unbearable sadness...Anniversaries of any loss bring forth sad feelings, but the loss of a child or one's mate has to be the worst. You were brave to write such a beautiful "memoriam" to your husband'd memory....IT also had the effect of making me feel very fortunate that I still do have the "comfort" of my husband's arms...At times I know he thinks I take him for granted and I suppose everyone has been guilty of this emotion..But, I renew my appreciation of him when I think on your words. I liked the way you personified the "past" as it ""lurks" there waiting for our minds to "haunt" us with its memories...And the consolers, bless their hearts if they mean well, but "This too will Pass" does not help with this loss, huh? "Consolers say "This too will pass" but waves of memories catch cobwebbed corners clutching them close to consciousness." This sentence is so full of run-on cacophanous hard 'C" sounds that it is delightful to the ears, despite the sadness of the overall thought of the poem. It is a narrative that shows through picturesque language your thoughts, once again personified. The poem ends quickly but not too soon for it says it entirely..in just the right words in just the right way....how very much you cared for your husband..sometimes we must just "go with" our feelings and not deny them =--which is just what you did here...Not all poems are happy..some of the best have been sad ones.. ..........God bless...........drenda||2003-10-12 19:11:24|
|Straight At It||Rick Barnes||Rick, I loved this poem..so philosophical, yet pragmatic, and so true and HHEEHEE! "straightforward".. It is all so simple if thought of in this way...Part of my doldrums, depressions, and all worries come from either too much assessing (and obsessing) of past mistakes, too many playbacks of what cannot be undone, and too much wondering whether the next step will be the right one...most of life spent in misery is from not just going ahead and living it as you say, "straight at it".. We all realize that we only have this moment--intellectually we realize it--but so many of us are dwelling either in the past or the future, that we miss the NOW which is truly moment to moment all that we really have. What a joy life is when lived in the NOW....And, as far as being afraid to make a mistake...if we simply "go straight at it"..the mistake is that fear and that fear is the mistake...IT is true still that we learn from our mistakes..we learn that we have the capacity to keep making them over and over..and worry does not make that go away..it just ruins our enjoyment of the happiness we have when we forget fear... "All of the voices of your past choices call out to you from where you are saying simply, go straight at it and know that right and wrong are a matter of vision, your view of these things becomes your decision, and your vista was chosen a long time ago. I absolutely loved the rhythm and flow of this , notwithstanding the complexity of the simplicity of the philosophy involved, it is so true, and I agree wholeheartedly...We can certainly keep on learning as long as we breathe, but what we feel about what we learn is more or less a matter of our "chosen vistas"-- Today is day one of my NOW and my decisions living in it are based on my view of it as it passes (based on the course set by my past choices).......Great line breaks and rhyme scheme all the way thru this one. After reading your words, I felt a bit absolved of guilt with a sense of release and renewed resolve to "simply go straight at it.." Time's awastin'!!!!..........enjoyed........drenda||2003-09-25 13:54:22|
|Sweet, Sweet Music||Mell W. Morris||Mell, here I am again..Singing "kudoes" to your poetry. I can hardly wait for Part II. NOt only are most of your works of art lovely to read and enjoy, but most are "educational" in some way.. I learned in this one, for instance, about singing ants and rocks and sands. It is so true that everyone is affected in some way by music (good music to me might not be the same to my son and vice versa) but we each enjoy our own. I love "practically" all forms of music (never quite got the jist of Hard Rock and Acid Rock or some of the Hip HOp and Rap--if you can even call that music).. But, then, I don't expect everyone to thrill to the sound of bagpipes (as I do) so to each his own..Tis true, however, about its ability to soothe the "rabid beast" great choice of phrase here--and I had heard about plants' responses to it being studied.........And, I certainly believe in its 'healing powers.' There have probably been tens of thousands of verses written about Music but in this short poem your hallmark style gives a refreshingly delightful possibility into the origins of the source of it. As for capacity, only a few seem to have the "capacity" of a Bach or Beethoven to create music, many more have the capacity to play what has been written (a few of those do it very well), but nearly every human who has lived since your ancient man's soul reached out for those "lines of rhythm and rolls of sound" have the capacity to revel in its enjoyment..... What I really loved about this poem was the nature of the expansion given to musicality of the entire universe--to which, IMHO, is in no doubt..and the way you make the reader see this in this verse: "Music is more than thought before: ants sing at their chores, sand sings on New England shores, and rocks ring as long as one pings them. I have often thought about interpretations of music in the sounds of nature, but in the usual things like birds' songs and the hum of bees, etc. I learned another new fact about the oldest preserved instrument made of stones...It really makes one sit back and think how far everything has come..from ancient rock pinging to modern day computerized "zinging"...I wonder which came first in antiquity..the invention of the wheel or the discovery of music...and as one was important to the advancement of man to the industrial age and on to the technological age..was the other's importance to make the journey along the way and through the hard and trying times bearable...as is still true today....I wonder what songs the stars sing to each other in space and what constitutes "heavenly music" and how do our souls hear? Perhaps in Part II .....................drenda||2003-09-25 13:24:19|
|japanese verse 25 (Dawn)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Erzahl, I have not been writing many critiques, but I have been reading most of the poems posted. I just had to take a moment to comment on this lovely haiku. I really took this one to heart ---for I am (an insomniac) often awake to see those first rays of light penetrate the darkness and bring on the new day... "First sign of sunlight Pouring in silent delight Warm as morning smile" Although haiku does not have to rhyme, you manage to incorporate it which adds to its "delight".. The night seems long at times when one cannot sleep and although the darkness brings on tears at times..I have always seen the "first sign of sunlight" as "hope" that springs for a new beginning and "warm as morning smile" is how if feels..in a "nutshell"--- The only thing I might add is have you considered, perhaps, using "sigh" rather than "sign" of sunlight..just a thought...............Enjoyed it ..........drenda||2003-09-25 09:00:14|
|Echoes From The Sea||Mell W. Morris||Mell, you have intrigued me with references to Seamus Heaney to the point where Imust seek out his poetry to read for myself. Shame on me with my love of the sea and my "Irish" roots (is he Irish, Scottish or ?) OF course, I may be disappointed, as I doubt that his works outshine your own.. Your poems have the ability to "transport' the reader into your world whatever subject you happen to be writing on at the moment..Whether it be "unrequited love", "music", or the "sea"--your words become a living example of the subject that touches the universal chord in every reader while maintaining a unique and individual "perspective"... YOu, dear Mell, are quickly becoming my own "Seamus" as far as inspiration..I just hope I may find the inspiration to put down words again soon.........I am working on one but it is slow in coming-I tend to choose such "dry" subjects at times, but that appears to be something over which the poet has little control, Huh? One example of one that came "easily" or "inspired" was my "The Wall." I find that writing poetry with my muse on my shoulder is so muchmore fun than when he/she has "flown the coop." "After the storm, winds scour the sky to lapis and along the shoreline, quiet voices of the dead blow out to sea. Ancient people believed that drowned souls lived on in seals and in this eldritch stretch of seascape, anything seems possible." The first line is beautiful and the second line is one of those rare instances when the needed explanation is incorporated effortlessly into the poem without a hitch. ..even with the vocabulary expanding use of "eldritch" and the poetic stretch of words "souls lived on in seals and in this eldritch stretch of seascape" ---once again your unique hallmark... "Bruised moss on scattered stones marks the passage of others before me and I feel a need to follow the melody of souls to the deep. Rising sea-sighs lure as surely as smells of sea asphodels. Soon I sense an increasing gravity" Brilliant use of phrasing and poetic language in the above...I repeat myself to say that you have the ability to "transport" the reader to greater heights of grace in just the reading of these gloriously descriptive phrases. And another repeating is the internal rhyming that never ceases to amaze the reader--not that it is there ..but that it is so skillfully done as to bring the reader to his knees .... "as if I'm in a burrow in the ocean bed with cold and golden tones circling my head. A womb-oneness with the sea: my first glance reveals a vast symphony of seals" You give the reader new and marvelous eyes through which to see the sea and seals and new ears with which to hear the music of your soul..and a new heartbeat with which to measure the value of true poetry....... I remain your most "transfixed" fan to date...........drenda||2003-09-25 08:50:31|
|The Wall||Mell W. Morris||Mell, you are in a place that I envy right now...that place on the cusp of inspiration (despite the pain that may come with it at times) and you are turning out one beauty after another in quick succession..I read all of your poems (over and over and over) for I feel they rival some of the best every written (any time period, any style) and if this continues "notoriety" may enter your life as your poetry is recognized for what it is..."GGGRRREEEAAATTTT!!" YOur "The Wall" epitomizes the broken hearted one whose love (for whatever reason) has not been returned--and typifies a feeling that even though "universal" in scope remains uniquely "individual" on a purely personal level. You know how to take every day words to new highs in descriptive imagery which always "show" the reader rather than tell him as is the criteria of good poetry.........."flows in unwrapped lumps, clumps of pap like bad gravy." ..whether in your "down-to-earth similes........."She's not a languish-in- anguish type but the scent of him made her pure verb. Squared the circle.".................or your atypical metaphors....you manage to hit the nail on the head..just from a "different angle"............in the language of the poet.. "Music her surcease, her sole release. Lines define" In just the short space above, you show your love of music which shines through most of your works..and at the same time show your unique "style of writing" with the run-on internal rhyming that has become your "hallmark." "Go on, she will. The daze of healing. Her scar will turn to proud flesh, a reminder of love spurned and her well-earned badge of courage." The last verse shows a "spunky" strength that nearly everyone admires in anyone...I absolutely loved the "daze of healing" which I stretched into a double meaning --both the "days" and the "daze" and you chose the right one to use here...And of course not a verse without that "hallmark"....."love spurned and well-earned".......Kudoes once again..............drenda||2003-09-25 08:19:47|
|Love is a Trapeze||Denise A McCroskey||Denise, I loved this "Love Is A Trapeze" metaphor in which you hit on one of the most important and yet most often overlooked elements of "true" love -- the concept of "freedom" within love...Love is a gift given by each lover to the other with no strings attached..and those who are loved longest and best are those who keep up with the "giving" rather than "receiving" end of it.....The ability of lovers to feel "free" and still themselves within the "bonds" of the relationship is so often overlooked that is probably the reason that most feel after so short a while that "love" has left them...Your whole poem "soars in the liberty of your love" ........This poem is truly one that opens the eyes to a concept "pictured" by your words..My favorite phrase in the poem is the entire first line.. "Love is a trapeze that you extend to your beloved offering them freedom, flow, movement and grace." Some feel that they literally "own" the personhood of their beloved and that is the quickest way to end a relationship--especially if the other person involved does not like to feel "imprisoned" within the confines of a spider web that gets stickier and less "loving" as time goes by..Also important is your second line.. "Allowing them to soar in the liberty of your love, yet allowing the safety net to catch them if they fall." When one is truly loved, it is not a "jealous" love. One wants the other to "soar" to their own personal heights..but to understand that while they are "up" they are loved...and when they come in for a "landing" they are also loved..YOu are so right in likening this love to a "beautiful dance of two artists flowing together"...for both have to give this freedom (give and take) back and forth through time for the relationship to grow and mature to its fullest .. I am truly blessed for I feel that my husband and I (married 37years) have made it this far because of this concept ........... Beautiful poem and hold that thought.....................LOL drenda||2003-09-05 08:22:28|
|Petunia's First Flight||Mell W. Morris||Mell, your inner child is not only alive and well, she is in rare form--absolutely "harmonic". Your hallmark style is evident in this one..those run on rhymes that seem to just flow off the top of your head effortlessly and "unforced"...however, I know that it cannot be as effortless as it appears...unless, of course, you are truly some sort of "word genius"..and that is definitely a possibility that should not be discounted. The title is appropriate and piques the interest of the reader's "inner child." Right away the rhythm and the wording are action packed, yet light and airy, and the internal rhyming is flawlessly crafted. The mood the poem sets is "uplifting" to say the least..HEHEHHE! "A bob, dip, curtsy, then a swift uplift from a wind draft. My thumb on the string, I watch the soaring might of my hand-made kite, Petunia. Two balloons released for good luck pre-kite flight and I admire the verve and pluck of my purple flyer. A five- feet tail, beribboned in the same shade," I am sure that "a five-feet tail" is in no way incorrect..I just have always used "five-foot" (it might be a cultural or "southern" thing) "trails like the end of a parade. My Petunia is a singing shadow in the sky and I ease more string to conjure her higher. Alone, I embrace the sweet" Nice simile here--followed by superb metaphor--I like the way you use words like "conjure her higher." ...that is what makes you such a poetess.. "moment, having left work early for stolen time with my flower-power flyer. I feel refreshed, renewed, filled with an elan of purple hue. A change of pace-- to lessen the stress in my days and as I up-gaze, rave reviews for the brave Petunia." Now I knew "elan" from working cross-word puzzles...but an "elan of purple hue" is an altogether wonderment thing.. This lovingly written poem certainly lessens the stress in my days and I have rave reviews for the brave Petunia and nothing but KUDOES for the talents of Mell...I cannot think of a better reason to steal a little time off from work....Loved it and you too!!! ..........drenda||2003-08-16 19:07:45|
|Poem Title||Poet Name||Critique Given by Drenda D. Cooper||Critique Date|
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