Terrye Godown's E-Mail Address: firstname.lastname@example.org
So far 707 People have Entered a Personal Profile on The Poetic Link! Click Here to see the rest of them or to Add your Own Personal Profile Now!
Below you will see ALL of the Critiques that Terrye Godown has given on The Poetic Link.
By Clicking a Poem Title, you can view the poem that is associated with each Critique.
If you would like to view all of Terrye Godown's Poetry just Click Here.
Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!Displaying Critiques 1 to 42 out of 42 Total Critiques.
|Poem Title||Poet Name||Critique Given by Terrye Godown||Critique Date|
|Desert Walker||Regis L Chapman||Funny your should write that about one taking this poem in a "political" perspective - Perhaps with the current fiasco in both parties escalating into this election year, that's exactly how I saw it. Huddled American masses in a desert (probably in Mexico): all unknown unborn ungrown known (alias: socialists) what moves you now? (yep, no true leaders to behold) the last, the least (the American people) open the borrowed mouth (Barrack) taste the silence dry (McCain) relenting to lick the lips (Hillary) a sudden snack (victims of the republican party) a feast (victims of the liberals) nodded at by the North sky (the Clintons last ditch efforts) orange ball sown to the South (Al Gore's global warming scam) burn burn burn (our certain demise) Of course the above lines are just one example but I saw this as quite prophetic Regis, whether you intended it or not! Terrye||2008-06-03 10:41:02|
|Untitleable||Mark Andrew Hislop||Hey Mark, love this totally cynical rendition, and how you artfully infuse your sarcasm! "Surgeon fodder"?? The gregarious pursuers of perfection in our culture today would certainly consider your rendition the epitome of blasphemy! Had to laugh over that verse presenting the model "privates'. You get a Golden 'globes' award for that one - Ya know, if it wasn't for Bay Watch, I think we could probably all stay content with ourselves. I had to pause and ponder the 'staggering awake' from the drugged out years image. Maybe I'll just leave that one alone for now. As for the conduit role, well.. SOMEBODY in the family has to pay for the work. BTW, did you happen to check and see if any of the regulars on TPL are poetically gifted surgeons who wear burkhas Mark? Sheesh, the backlash could tarnish the golden luster on your leaden terrain for sure... We're completely out of sync on that "God made nature for weaklings' comment, though. From my perspective only the strong survive without a single nip or tuck. I've opted to be one of the strong, however on my next journey overseas I will rent myself a traffic stopping sports car, hire a breathtaking German photographer to secure himself on the hood and photograph me on the Autobahn (in the sunset hours of day of course), when the speedometer reaches 115. My thinking is that this should produce quite a tight and flawless image my husband will be proud to display in his wallet and preserve in the family archives for generations to come. I'm too much of a frugalist to chance such risky mutilation anyway. Whats the use when they can't make your hands look younger to match?? Great work Mark, as usual! Cheerz, Terrye||2006-11-09 02:24:48|
|All Hallows Eve||Paul R Lindenmeyer||Hi Paul This is the perfect Halloween counterpart to "Twas the Night Before Christmas" poem! The use of caps present an imposing presence that toyfully plays with the reader while keeping the goblins in pace with perfect rhyme. I would say that the lesson your daughter taught you about the cows saying Boo on Halloween was pretty profound for a 4 year old! I can remember when my daughter was about 10 and I let her set up our traditional nativity scene for Christmas. I came back to check on her progress and she was finished, standing in front of it admiring her work. I asked her why all I was seeing was the backs of the wise men, the donkeys, the sheep and the shepherds, as I had always thoughtlessly lined them up as in a play, all facing an audience. My daughter's blue eyes flashed back at me through blonde bangs and said sharply "Mom, they're not 'sposed' to be facing us, they're 'sposed' to be facing HIM!", pointing her little finger towards the baby in the manger. Ah yes, the lessons we learn from our kids... This is an entertaining piece that one could hardly improve on which can be appreciated and enjoyed by anyone from age 4 to 100 (and beyond)! Thanks for presenting this really 'tricky treat' for us! Cheerz, Terrye||2006-11-09 00:41:49|
|Sky Scraping||Dellena Rovito||Wow Dellena you are the Queen of Adjectives in this one! Reading each line is like working through a complex maze before getting to the drift. You might make the path a bit easier for poetic clutzes like me, by rearranging phrases like: "Vaporous breaths form creamy dollop dropped cloud fluffs" to maybe "vaporous breaths drop creamy dollops of cloud fluffs". Or that line "across the land swaying hand in hand, the mountains dance." Swaying hand in hand, the mountains dance across the land, sort of separating the "a" sounds a bit. This way I don't start contorting my mouth in a Fonzy like "eh" while I'm reading it. Ok I never considered that you may be too young to remember the Fonz. Ok well then, let us part from that particular thought at this point. That interesting "?" addition in the middle of "times" kind of makes me scrunch up my nose and ask myself if I posess the poetic talent to actually critique this with any verbally redeeming value of my own. Does that make sense? Well of course not, but I said it anyway, cuz.. well.. I didn't know what the heck else to make of it, except that it's cool and bold and, well, out there. That line "When power and matter's reciprocal action curvatures down the heights.." is really creative. Ive never seen curvature used as a verb like that but it seems to work none the less in this cyclic ballad of nature's phenomenons. So like, anyway, the eloquence, prissiness of the font, and the euphoria of verbage intrinsically come together in quite a grand performance here! Like the mountains, critiquers come then they go, and fortunately the parting of some (as in my case) is probably a welcoming sight... Good work Dellena - enjoyed the ride Cheerz, Terrye||2006-11-08 23:35:02|
|Ghost Town||marilyn terwilleger||Wow Marilyn, this is just an absolute best seller, which provides a virtual escape to the west, as if the reader has suddenly awakened in in a John Wayne dimension of sight and sound. Your lead off is great. I can't explain why exactly, but I found the use of the word "pitch" to disturb the visual somehow.. kind of lead my imagery to more piercing heights than the sauntering, unconcerned antelope reflects. Maybe mellowing that line some: "the sky sang a blustery accapella as the winds blew across the sand" "We walked in the heap and sweep of sage and silt" - This is fantastic! Just that limited description of the homestead was enough for the reader to paint this image without hesitation. The second to the last stanza is also superb, Marilyn. Another part that you might tweak a bit is in that same stanza where you have: 'Shadows of Cumberland lived in His senses as we picked a path across the Wilderness.' Wondering why you used the "his" instead of "our" there, since this was about your experience becoming a temporary part of this old vignette. Perhaps the shadows "came alive" in "our" senses as we picked a path...' I was inspired by the nostalgia Marilyn and how the spirit of your father seemed to breath a gentle life into the fading ghost town relics. I did hate though, to think of him merely "walking the tracks of heaven" instead of finally receiving an eternal ticket on some heavenly train! Maybe you could at least paint the tracks gold for him! Ending the way you did, using the asterisks was a perfect because they seemed to symbolize footsteps, either yours or his maybe, slowly being covered with the sands of history and sentiment. You did a GREAT job on this and I think it will get all the attention it deserves! Cheerz! Terrye||2006-11-08 22:05:55|
|Chatswood honey||Mark Andrew Hislop||Mark.. Mark. Way too much caffeine I think! This is about what I'd sound like if you stuck me up at a podium in front of a huge audience! I won't even try to critique this one, I can't go that deep within the lines. Lots of energy here and lots of abstract venting goin on (this is what I picture goes on in our heads during our REM sleep!). Pretty cool the way you set this one in motion... and keep it there! It's definitely unique! I can't wait to see how others critique this. My "ADD" makes me incapable of tackling stuff like this. Had to comment though cuz it's so much fun and so "out there". (tongue in cheek) But really, try decaff. The good brands don't taste all that bad! Cheerz, Terrye||2005-11-26 20:57:24|
|Thirty Days Has September||Mell W. Morris||Of all I have read this month, this is my favorite Mell! I love the way it sweeps you up into the thoughts of the person who ispired this poem with each stanza. The way you describe the evolution of feelings here and the analogies "set her aside like a cup of cold coffee" and "their differences grew slowly, leech-like.". Here's a super one: "She imagined whirling it around her shoulders like a cape then swirling its magic as a brave matador might.""and then my favorite one: "an Amazon who already had cried him a river". There are creative overtones of humor used to describe the evolution of thought processes in this "story" that is told with perfectly fitting structure.. the way each stanza ends, or rather leads to the following one connotes a feeling of time passing.. realizations, acceptance and wisdom are imparted inbetween the stanzas. The way the lines disconnect for a spell are an analogy in themselves. The subjects are slowly being disconnected also and so the structure is SO suitable here in defining a time line of events which the reader is expecting to unfold after reading the title. I would not change this one a bit. I love the final sensation of celebrating freedom and peace in the last stanza. Your quotation was a perfect fit and a great lead in. This is GREAT Mell. It has all the right facets that it takes to make a piece terrific! Cheerz, Terrye||2005-11-25 17:00:46|
|SECRETS IN THE WELL||arvin r. reder||Hi Arvin This is a very mysterious poem. The sequence of rhyming in each stanza is interesting and creative. I read this piece a few times trying to grasp it's meaning, but it's kind of like finding an old trunk with pictures from a stranger's past. There's only so much you can do to recreate their life from what you see. The last stanza totally threw me off as far as getting any gist other than to realize that the writer is being rather obscure in verbally tying up the last pieces of regret obviously reflected in this poem. One of the lines that threw me was the first one: "Listen to the night it's whisper." With each successive line it is clear that you are writing this theme from a particular personal experience, so this line seems to throw it off because it tends to give the reader the idea that the ensuing lines will be be more about a generic scenario that anyyone could relate to. Making it more first person orientated, such as "I listen to the night's whispers", or I listen in the night as it whispers, or whatever. This would be more in sync with the "I"'s and "You"s that begin other lines. You might also consider renaming the poem, since the one line you repeat this does not seem to be the real focus of the piece, just one of the memorable happenings that night. The theme of the poem seems more to do with a sense of unfinished business felt with regard to this memory, moreso than the secrets mentioned in that line. The curiosity roused there seems to be dropped off abruptly with the following line: "laughter like streams and big smiles", which sort of diffuses the substantiality of the secrets at that point. This is a teasingly visual piece Arvin, which offers nostalgic sentiment through simple, romantic thought fragments. I really enjoyed reading this, even though it may seem that I am criticizing it. I'm just relating the aspects which caused me to question my understanding as I read through the lines. Perhaps this is what you meant to do! Keep writing! Cheerz, Terrye||2005-11-25 16:07:39|
|Once Upon A Night So Bleak…||Dellena Rovito||Ha ha - this is a teasingly adventurous piece Dellena. At first the intensity of it was eyebrow raising to say the least. I loved the comedic ending and the way you tossed us down into that at the pivotal 5th stanza, kind of like the "Haunted House" ride at Disneyworld! This ended up so lighthearted I hardly feel like pointing out any errs, but two I spotted were "noone", which you probably meant as "no one" and then in the last stanza before the last line, you use the word "snuck". Probably "sneaked" would have been the better option, or perhaps "slipped" or "slipped". Loved this winning ice breaker :"Entity needed sustenance and it's essential primal feed was sugar!" A perfect way to lead into that final humorous realization. I'm thinking that the ending line: "Entity commanded the body to speak…horrific words, frothed forth" you could embellish more, the way you have in the lines preceding it. Since "Entity" is the subject in the line before that, you could even get away with simply referring to it as "It" in the last line. For example: "Entity needed sustenance and it's essential primal feed was sugar! Abushing his unwary vocal chords, "it" frothed forth... spewing horrific words : "Trick or Treat!" Or whatever - just seems like you did such a good job of building up to the ending, you might as well be as dramatic as possible! With our without these suggestions, you have displayed absolutely "spellbinding" wit here Dellena! Pretty dang creative! Cheerz, Terrye||2005-11-03 21:43:15|
|try again- Wild Daisies||laura j dean||You've painted a vivid portrait of someone here, albeit just giving us a glimpse. You are conservative enough in your description to arouse enough curiosity in the reader to read each subsequent stanza anxiously. It is subtly poignant because you touch so much on the senses with your verbage; "a wild mass of brown hair breaks free from hard lessons". This one line covers a great deal of the subjects life in one little line. Feelings that the subject has been abused can't help but fill the reader's mind; "the warmth of sunlight touches the fresh bruises". These assumptions are confirmed in the last paragraph with: "Her life is not for me to understand". My only suggestion is that maybe try to replace the "touch" in the the third and fourth stanzas. Somehow this could enhance those lines a bit and it would be more in sync with the strong phrases in the rest. For example how you use "breaks free from the hard lessons learned in docility", "Heavy drapery suffocates her shadow", "colors of healing" and "marred from battle fatigue". These messages are powerful and I believe you could choose some similar tones to replace "touch" there.. such as "allows daylight to caress the shadows on her face". This would simulate someone who is desperately in need of affection. In the fourth stanza, maybe "Warmth of sunlight soaks the fresh bruises". Just quick suggestions, but you get my point! The simple word "touch" somehow seems more shallow compared to the way you've dressed the other lines. This is a creative piece Laura, with touching subject matter which reaches out to the spirit in all of us. The theme has such endearing quality. Bravo! Cheerz, Terrye||2005-11-01 21:06:55|
|Morning Coffee in Mid-June||Jillian K Sorenson||Whoa Jillian, yer right - reflects a rather unwholesome tendency to dwell on gloomy matters, but having said that, your so called "goth" side back then seemed to posess an uncanny ability to quickly penetrate a reader's mind like... well.. let's say, an image of one driving a cold metal stake through a vampire's heart. That takes some talent I'd say, because in writing this you've managed to disconnect from the safety of metaphors or the typical soulful styles, and very effectively write from a perspective that can't help but stir up some morbid apprehensions! I guess I'm dating myself, but "goth" was unheard of in my era, you were either collegiate, a hippy or a greaser. Not sure what I was.. never could seem to blend in with any one inparticular as I had friends in all of those circles, I guess in retrospect I'd haveta tag myself a "collippy". I loved my frayed jeans and long straight, streaked hair, but I never could give up my make-up or deny my armpits of a razor. Yeah, the piece is pretty chilly and desensitizing, but your choices of words really fit well in the context. They sweep the reader up into a sort of cold, voyeuristic state of mind, then just as abruptly, end it all with that matter-of-fact sigh: "we all must die someday". I'm sure you've lightened up quite a bit after all these years! A very unsettling submission! Cheerz! Terrye||2005-10-27 22:22:19|
|Tuscany||Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.||Wow, Medard, you really convey a spiritual energy here. I can identify with the visions that romance your mind in this piece. There's a loneliness that seeps out between the lines, but one that is more self imposed than anything else. Having traveled through Italy and then Greece last year, I can say that one can hardly help being absorbed by the warmth of Tuscany's charm, history and stoic "repose" (a word you've used which is truly fitting in that line up there). The culture alone can hijack your mind from the clutter of present day technologies and stress and lures one to question their priorities. The words you've chosen throughout the piece (dream, lust, inhebriate, seduced) give this poem a powerful magnetism and you relay this in a literary level that is most impressive. Whenever my memories travel back to Oia, Santorini overlooking the Agean Sea, I am captured in a very similar time warp. You've tied each stanza together in a dreamy sense that intensifies in the last lines, where you inrapture the reader in "Tuscany" repetitively - dropping preceding thoughts of "roaming", "God's light", "drunk with passion" and "lost". The structure is neat and balanced and it's duration is as timely as an afternoon daydream. I truly like the style of this one, Medard. By the way, your last name is as tricky to say as Bret Favre's, and I must admit, your first name is pretty unique also! Thanks for posting this one. It's great! - Terrye||2005-10-24 22:37:18|
|For Dead Fathers Who Live||Latorial D. Faison||This one cuts no corners Latorial! It is a very confrontational piece that probably fits more scenarios than we could guesstimate, and it seems as if you've been touched by this in a personal way too. If not, you present the turmoil one would feel very well indeed. There's not a stitch of editing needed in my opinion as it is worded the way one would think, or rather as boldly as one would hope to be able to express themselves especially to the dead beat father, without concern for how this man will accept it. It even ends with a simple last demand - why? Curious about why you used question marks in every question except the 4th stanza though...? Maybe that one was just overlooked and not intended. The most effective verses are "lies travel in packs and cowards in herds". This one is the pivotal stanza, focusing on him afterwhich, you revert to your own feelings in the last ones, covering all the bases one could to attempt to justify such hurt and pain. The timing moves perfectly in this piece. I know this is off the wall, but this would make a heck of of great "rap" song! Thanks Latorial Cheerz, Terrye||2005-05-03 16:21:20|
|SEDONA||Audrey R Donegan||Hi Audrey - I don't know what I did - it was quite wierd, but I was critiquing your "revised" addition of this poem and when I clicked submit, it said I couldn't critique a poem twice. Hmm.. unless I am in the early stages of ol'timerz disease I have no clue as to why. I can't even pull up the poem, just to see if anything actually did get posted, but nada. I poked around and couldn't find a link to a help page for issues like this so what the heck, I'll just give you the critique here. It may not be in sinc with this one, as I see you've made some great changes! (Good thing I learned to highlight & copy everything I write just in case..) Anyway here is the one that went awry for the revised "Sedona": "Wow Audrey, this deserves a "here's lookin atcha kid". It's apparent this piece is recalling lost love but it actually mimicks the feeling one gets when they first see the sunsetting over the craggy red cliffs surrounding Sedona. You fall in love with the majesty of the western landscape.. the way the sun throws an indian blanket over the mountains weaving some awesome colors to otherwise dry time eroded rock. The line "your words pierce me still" sets the reader up for a soulful and requited ending. The setting you create often doubles up on the senses by conjuring up the spiritual sounds of the Anasazi voices reverberating through time, perhaps predicting the outcome of what they see... The line "awestruck we were", might also reflect the feeling of one's first experience of this georgeous area, but here obviously with a special someone who is now only bound in"gold leaf" gratitude.. a wedding album? The last line "as the valley of radient red graciously adopted our love" is a very touching commemorative of something that the writer will forever hold forever in her heart. My favorite was the first stanza - so much feeling and power - it gives a sense of emotion coupled with remoteness, as it is worded in a very solemn and resolute way. The best I can sum this up with is that his one smolders with subdued passion and ends with a peace that passes all understanding." Cheerz, Terrye||2005-04-28 05:33:19|
|Your Best Guess||Rick Barnes||What a blissful piece Rick. A brief and energetic expose of a revelation. In simple lines you express much an air of excitement for the reader. It also demands a reread, as the message deepens in the last lines. Sort of like, "I know that you know, that I know, that you know".. and yada yada. I will say this makes me contemplate a bit.. as to why no one has ever written a poem dedicated to me :/ ? And now, as if you couldn't give "your best guess", I have absolutely zilch to suggest as editing here. Ok, wait, there was one thing, so let's make that a zilch plus - you could write the first line like this instead: "Was I expecting too much when I asked "will you wait?" That way the "asked" in the second line wouldn't be a repeat. Of course that would make it a question instead of a statement and that might screw up what you intended. But that was just off the top of my head, just because I felt guilty about never being up to par as a critiquer. Being a critic might be fun though. Of course I'd have to avoid poets like you or I'd be speechless. Hey, can you do a few lines about Kristy's response to this one?? Enjoyed it Rick, Terrye||2005-04-25 15:59:17|
|Sam||Regis L Chapman||This is such a unique expose of how we connect with our pets.. on a sensory level that is apart, yet strangely parallels that considered to be so innately human. Love the way you describe the purr... the comparison to that of speaking through a fan is just about as exact as you could get. Writing this in a mode that suggests a present tense and how this cat has (obviously for the millionth time!) captured the moment, is another element that pulls the reader into your observations, distracting them as you have been obviously been distracted by the cat. It's a great way of directly sharing your experience with the reader. Did get a bit "gender confused" in this one, as your notes describe a "he", whereas in the poem you suggest Sam is a "she" or so it could be taken two ways here: "Sam on her back looking cute" (on her own back or possibly your wife's?) As far as the structure, you write in a form of impulse which is in sync with these moments of distraction you are building on here. Thoughts end unpredictably, only to continue on in the next verse. It does lead one to contimplate this more and thus invites a re-read for clarification at times (at least for me it did!), so you might toy with areas that would make it flow easier, but again, I don't feel this is crucial to the piece, this is just my perspective. For example: "Sammy purrs when between us but paw stretched out to both greet or face right...up...in the huddle" Perhaps instead something like this, so as to pull this last stanza back into a here and now observation" which would create a more intimate and cozy thought to end this endearing "distraction" with: Sammy purrs, content between us Paws strething out to both... His face right up in our huddle... as a threesome we cuddle each morning" (here, maybe dropping the "for days" as that seems as if you lay that way for a much longer time than I think you intend! lol Anyway, so much for my so-called critique. Just some suggestions for more clarity, and perspective - but all in all this is a heart warming, and refresing piece that renders a happy and calming feeling! Great job! Cheerz! T||2004-01-09 09:26:51|
|Sweet Irony||Robin Ann Crandell||Hi Robin You must be new on TPL... or at least in the time I've been visiting here. There is such bitter-sweet emotion reaching out to captivate here. I'm thinking that both kinds of departing, due to death or just unrealistic expectations could indeed present the motivation here. Although you describe such rich facets of soulful retrospect here, it still keeps this true cause vague.. an element which seems to haunt the piece throughout. Because a reason of physical death is too gloomy for me personally, I'm thinking of this one as one proclaiming a deep yearning for someone out of reach due to the realities of life that ultimately separates them. Ok, an affair.... some romantically induced, but unfinished business. Of course the melancholy seeps through each stanza, clouding the dreamlike quality of verse. It overflows with raw emotion, humbly exposed, painfully charged and glued together with sentiment. With all that said, I believe this was probably written mostly ad-lib so to speak. Confessions from the dark sea of the soul... and such was the basis for the entire movie "Titanic", remember? I suppose as a critiquer here, I might point out a few things to consider which I often do with regard to this type of heartfelt poetry. Lose the periods. You are not constrained by any formalities here, only that which is limited by the sporadic ventings of the heart. Periods seem to abruptly signal the end to a thought process. In poetry such as this, the mind needs no boundaries, as there is enough that binds us in reality. Structurewise, you might try staggering the thoughts.. verses.. moving with the implulse from which the soul pours them out. A couple of the longer verses might be shortened. For example: "I see how my life was changed from the moment our eyes met." Maybe just: "I feel my life changed... the moment our eyes met", or something similar. In other words, the lines don't necessarily have to be a complete sentence or chain of thought. This would make them seem to ramble as feelings often do when spoken candidly. Well, anyway, for whatever sense I made here, it might be something to consider as far as charging up the piece. But as far as the content, and definition within the lines, you have definitely hit your mark. Keep writing... hope to see more from you! Cheerz, T||2004-01-07 20:53:28|
|An Old Man's Song On Christmas Eve||Rick Barnes||Hey Rick, long time, no critique! (As if you could call any of mine specifically that..) A true Christmas cookie of wisdom iced with sentiment.. sheesh Rick, there should be a category for "seasoned" poets like you. I mean where readers like me can just relax and enjoy the read without being challenged to critique someone whos obviously reached the masters realm of this literary art! I mean, after hanging out on TPL over the years I've seen em come, go, vent and grow. But ultimately there exists a higher mesa where poets like you often graze. They've had their days of spending hours, trying to impress with words of verbal nobility and intellectual presence. Many continue to share their personal experiences, hurts and joys from behind the "Great Wall" of metaphors, afraid to expose themselves. For a time they speak with the mind.. until the fog drifts away and they stop competing for center stage. This is where the seasoned poets like you reside.. they speak from the soul, unconcerned with image or literary genius. It flows, sorta a geyser when it gets inspired with all that built up pressure.. a natural phenomenon that just happens within an unimposed time frame. This one is exactly that. Critique this? For what? So I can expose my own poetic weakness? Heck no. I also think us so-called "critiquers" should be able to request not to be "rated" for just simply wanting to respond to a great poem like this! Hope your holidays were relaxing and fun! Cheerz T.G.||2004-01-02 10:52:02|
|Me and I changed to You||Michele Rae Mann||This would seemingly depict the up's and downs and in's and out's of schitzophrenia, Michele! Ah ha but I know there must be another motivation here. Perhaps you are describing a severe form of self conciousness in this piece? Very bizarre, and eclectic.. the kind of poetry that throws your reasoning into turmoil for sure. I for one became very unglued as I progressed through the lines, feeling the abstract quality of this swing me from several perspectives about this one.. yet, although it wanders where it will, I think maybe finding another way to phrase "Would it be nothing I projected" might do something positive for the piece, but don't ask me what! - unsure why you didn't throw a question mark after that line too.. And now I must liberate myself from this critique, if in fact you could actually call it that! I will sum up my feelings about this the way I feel when I'm sitting on the couch watching a football game with my husband. When one of the sports announcers draw those circles around all the play footage while trying to explain it, is the closest analogy I can provide to explain my lack of offering any valid comments on this one I will say that it evokes, provokes, pokes and yeah.. chokes all at the same time. You have successfully stumped me Michele, but hey, that's what art is all about right? CHeerz, T||2003-12-29 22:51:52|
|The Stoop||Mell W. Morris||Wow Mel. I haven't been on here in quite some time, but I see you are evolving into a master of a poet. Your illustrious depiction of a cherished scene in time, brings out an abundance of flavors for the mind's hungry palate. The pivotal part of the poem is presented in this simple line, stated with a sense of peace, appreciation and sentiment. "And so begins a tremolo of night's timbre, its color tone" It then propells the reader into a greater realization of the inspiration here. Using words like "stellar"; "cosmic"; and panorama are very effective tools for lifting the reader instantly into your loftier goal here. Even though the last lines are in fact split betwee the 4th and 5th stanzas, they work together in complete unity for the finale here. "Fertile smell", "unseen life" and "sprout of dawn" leave the reader with a sense of the hope, trust and familiar feelings that help root us and begin the process of security in life. Your lines gracefully twist through carnal channels of the mind as a grape vine in spring, preparing itself for the scrumptious fruit it will offer. Good job Mel! Hope your holiday was fun and peaceful! Cheerz, Terrye||2003-12-29 09:26:26|
|Rural Shindig||Jordan Brendez Bandojo||Great adjectives.. a vivid scene of bizarrity to say the least. The line: "When the news ran like electric shock." Kinda threw me though. At first I figured this was depicting a costume party.. or even the experience of one attending their first Mardi-Gras, but then that line dropped in a motive of sorts.. From this one emanates a loud boisterous, concert of the imagination... um.... mine I'd say, not necessarily that of the writer's! Very captivating, but it seemed I just skimmed over it's true meaning! Gpnna shed some more light on it for me? Cheerz, Terrye||2003-12-15 23:03:35|
|Origin||C Arrownut||Yanno, try as we might, I doubt anyone will pierce the core of your inspiration here C. I like your relating new ideas to the image of an island... something surrounded by challenges that beckons to be discovered and inhabited by many... or just a few is often good enough! Using the man made bridge to reflect traditional beliefs that fight any notion of change, is a good analogy. In the second stanza, I recognize the "steel beast" being the bridge, or the obstacle that must be overcome in order to join both ends of this piece of nature together, allowing more convenient passage and the potential of shared experiences. I love the ending lines: "in one spot on the river’s edge —nearly imperceptible— high weeds unexpectedly yield to white sand forming a mouth into the unknown." The high weeds bringing to mind still more challenges, finally give way to the ultimate inspiration and beauty through natural phenomena forming unique passageways to unleashed potential. I like the mystique of how the title and the last line work together. "Origin" and the image of a mouth (oral cavity) accent eachother in assonance, and similarity, since they are both beginings in their own right. Good job C Arrownut! I'm not gonna pick this one apart, it reads well, and stimulates the senses. Why try and improve on that? Cheerz, T||2003-10-23 23:48:34|
|Suicide Bomber||Sergio M chavez||Well Sergio, you probably hit the nail right on the head here with this one. If a suicide bomber's life flashed before his eyes right before he committed this henous act, this would certainly make sense for him to be thinking about. Isn't it funny that after the repetetive "Fuck living because.. it's always "I" or "my' that follows.. all except for the one that says "because God doesn't exist". In a hell like this, a person has become so self centered that he/she sees and feels nothing beyond self. Probably because he/she has never reached out to give instead of receive, which stands to reason that he/she disappoints him/herself in the end. But so human to feel all this negativity, and have no outlet but to blame, and blame he/she must... and it's usually God. Why God? Because it would take a devine nature to deal with such a person who only knows worshiping him/herself, never realizing that happiness comes from what you give of yourself, not what you expect others to render to you. Perhaps this person forgets that once he was a winner. In the beginning when he/she was first conceived. Millions of competitors raced for the life zone, and he/she made it there first, where opportunities to serve, to learn, to love and be loved in return are the key to peace and acceptance. This is a perfect reflection of selfishness, bitterness and an empty soul that has never learned the truth! Callousness and indifference spill into an abyss of dark thoughts. One suggestion: cut the last sentence and make it two lines, say: "'tears run down my cheek and fall on my gun... I will shoot as many as I can... And save the last bullet for me." I might lose the "thank you" at the very end. It's unerving enough without that line thrown in I think. Poignant and shattering! Cheerz, T||2003-10-23 23:25:20|
|Eagles (Tanka)||carole j mennie||And we're supposed to critique this one? Right... I see absolutely nothing that would enhance this piece Carole, and believe me, I read it several times trying to see if I could come up with any suggestions. Word choices are so fitting and bring such a mystique to this creation which is charged with primal energy. Your key phrases, "nourished by the Sierra updrafts", "to mark his passage" and "opens a book" are timely and well spaced. They evoke the reader at integral points, to entertain a more mystical dimension from the thoughts openly presented, giving a balance between what's actually written and how the mind is propelled from a sensory point in each line - to put it simply, there's much nuance felt between the lines in this one. We won't even talk about the "fitness" of the poem, it's "toned" to the max. Impressive! Cheerz, T||2003-09-29 10:04:13|
|Castles of the Sea||Donna L. Dean||Hi Donna! You romance the soul with sentiment in this short, but rich verbal appetizer. You've captured some very soulful truths here, disguised in an element of nature. Single words, poking out in the first 3 lines, spark a feeling of remote melancholy, which adds dimension without dominating in this beautiful free versed creation. With that said, I tried expressing this in a more condensed way, curious to see if it might enhance or change it's effect, and this is what I came up with: "Tide-washed castles - easy to picture tide washed castles instead of dreams eroding dreams of sadness - switching nouns in 1st & 2nd line, give clearer imagery without daunting meaning wishful minds; flawed realities rebounds in wonderment - using a verb like "rebounds" define the thought in line 3, might "lift this line more than "returns" as memories erode in the sand - just a different way to modify the previous thoughts presenting the builder - "presenting" gives the feeling of newness than "leaving", since it seems you want to bring the feeling of second chances here a clean slate of imperfections" - this one's perfect as is. Hope you don't see this critique as critical, because I think you did a great job of communicating your feelings here. My suggestions don't make or break the poem, they're simply a different arrangement of the same poignant thoughts, and I really enjoyed the imagery you conveyed! Cheerz, T||2003-09-29 09:38:59|
|Blaze||Dawn Parker||Wow Dawn. I feel the need to open the nearest fire hydrant and drench this poem with needed H20! What a torrid visual you create. Such fumagating verbage. Such could have been written by one witnessing the LA riots back then. Not to mention visions of the horrors wrought by the Ku Klux Clan years back. But all those history clips aside, the most momentous moment was that twin towering inferno which struck NYC. And that is the scene in which I'll place my bet. The "sulfur" taste; "explosive embrace" and "ashen place" pull this piece beyond the realm of burning crosses for sure. Riots.. well, some of them, also have significantly branded their causes into our history. You leave no specific hints other than the overwhelming sense of fire, smoke and infernal destruction happening here, and the sickening effects on the senses and the mind: "Hearts ache to quickly heal" Seared with flames of a feverish vent" "Feet shuffle to regain balance" "Cheeks absorb the sulfur taste" "Arms reach for an explosive embrace" for examples. The firey adjectives, verbs and nouns, lick the lines like flames.. popping up here and there, a constant reminder of this portrayal of hellious proportion. A very wrenching, emotional script Dawn. I hope you'll confirm my guesses about the event that inspired this poem! Cheerz, T||2003-09-26 01:28:45|
|A Theory of Composition||C Arrownut||Ok, C Arrownut, I gotta bone ta pick with you.. or rather, you with pick ta bone gotta I. Um de dum de dum, Anyway (I'm trying to see straight here) as far as your curiosity as to what we'll see, try to visualize this: Me, after contorting in several odd positions in front of my monitor, I'm now STANDING on my computer desk, with my back towards the monitor, one hands on my printer and the other on my keyboard, typing upside down while peering through my spread legs upside down at the poem on the screen. I gotta tell ya, other than tasting the enchilada I had several hours ago in my throat again, all I'm seein is me gettin a big fat headache here. Yeah, I looked sideways, horizontal, vertical, etc., but when my husband popped in and saw me all he said was "what are H*** are you drinking? You've been on that thing waaaaaayy too long! So I guess at this point, I'll just admit bein a failure at this kinda scrutiny. My critiquing skills are null and void at this moment, and I'm ready to face the consequences. But after all this work, even though the meaning of this creative challenge has eluded me, I hope you'll write and tell me what I missed. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna to a backflip off this computer desk and sit up straight. Cheerz C! T||2003-09-25 22:25:46|
|Blowin' da "Blues" otta da Horn!||Andrea M. Taylor||Andrea?? Is this YOU?? Or has the spirit of "BB King" forcefully inhabited your body? lol Geez, I dunno where ta start... if I could play the sax or a muted trumpet to accompany this piece, it might add some good backup acoustics though! OOOOh yeahhh, I reckon ol "Auntie"'d 'preciate da hellouta dat! Hey, truth be told though, ya got some reeaaal nice rythm goin on here... "shawt n sweet, but it be moovin through yo soul like... uh... well... ok, time dated material that's what! - you really take over this one, characterwise Andrea. Makes it hard for us critiquers ta do our nit pickin, cuz everything's written within the context of an unsophisticated, downhome jingle! An who, I ass ya, kin awgue wit dat?? Cheerz, t||2003-09-25 22:05:47|
|Occupation,Revelation||Michael Bird||Hi Michael This sure is revelation, but as far as occupation, I'd say maybe preoccupation might fit better! ha ha Only have one suggestion here. And it more about aesthetics. I don't want to touch your style or your use of words, because this is so personal and within the context of your own experience. I'd condense the lines: "Pretty girls all over the town,going here and all around Walking here,dancing there,tippy toes on the ground" Basically by saying "pretty girls all over the town, you don't need the "all around" part. It's redundancy throws the pace of the poem off I think. Plus, the phrase "going here" would actually sound better as "coming here", or "going there". How bout just: "In the town pretty girls are all around", strutting, sultry; tippy toes on the ground" or whatever changes to bring them more into sync. It's a provocative piece Michael - almost disconcerting in the sense that you are frustrated by all the distractions of youth and temptations.. almost questioning your own motivation to yeild to them. But it's a bold and juicy read, full of anticipation. Good work! Cheerz, T||2003-09-22 21:12:03|
|Between the Wind and the Song of Calling Geese||Joanne M Uppendahl||"Between the wind and the song of calling geese"... free to chase the both tangible and the intangible.. this piece suspends your consciousness between reality and unseen dimensions. I love the way you beckon the spirit to explore beyond the mundane and invite the soul to be charged by the infinite forces of nature and the awesome presence of a creator. The sense of self discovery seems to invite you to limitless proportions, that unfold with each line. Very spiritually ingniting Joanne! You present a feeling of communication with God in this piece, or at least a higher being I presume, and on that note I'd suggest your capitalizing words pertaining to this "presence".. "your", and "you" which occur in the first and second stanzas and the fourth (one liner). Since you are lifting the reader up with your heightened sense of perception here, giving credit to this entity, it seems appropriate that you emphasize those words. Also, the comma between "these" "and more" in the last stanza could be dropped I think. It seems like it would read more gracefully without the pause there. This speaks like a peaceful prayer, in spite of the small things I pointed out though. I enjoyed it Joanne! Cheerz, T||2003-09-22 19:10:26|
|Hamburg Haiku||Michael J. Cluff||Sheesh, had ta put my glasses on... thought ya said "great gramma KILLS herself". A very spunky 5-7-5 here Michael. Though I scratch my head a the relationship between "Hamburg", this little depiction of a few moments in life and the "son in Joplin" it covers all the criteria that catagorizes Haiku! You'll have ta splain to me where Joplin is... somehow when I read that word, it always brings back memories of Janis - but maybe yer too young to remember her anyway, so how bout I shut up now. No suggestions. Haiku is too short to mess with. Kinda like trying to part a buzz cut.. Cheerz! T||2003-09-19 22:54:54|
|Sole Mates||Rick Barnes||Yanno Rick, I'd a loved ta hear John Wayne recite this one! Loved the sentiment released through these casual lines. There's an endearing quality laced within your style that conveys a subtly humorous, and soulful reflection of one's self, observed in a simple pair of worn but comfy old boots. Right from the get go, the title "Sole Mates" prepares you for a twist of self discovery that unfolds soon after you convince yourself it's unklikely these crude observations professing this odd liturgy of affection would be directed at a real person... unless of course it was coming from "Rooster Cogburn"! ha ha Anyway, hard ta make suggestions in this style of writing where everything is within a certain context and literary level, so I wouldn't touch this with a ten foot boot heel. I salute ya Rick - (uh..spoken in the duke's drawl here) "at's another dang masterpiece ya done wrought up 'ere, son! Assta la veesta baby T||2003-09-19 22:27:26|
|Translation||carole j mennie||Carole this is a very touching ode to someone obviously very special and influencial in your life.. imagine a world without the touch of mother's? Though you write with such sensory flair and your words strive to paint a portrait of warmth, beauty and joy, there is this haunting notion right from the start that your theme harbors some aura of melancholy which is of course realized in the next to the last stanza. "From beneath the distant, machine-clipped lawn flowered in pale pink granite, among crisp, blown leaves..." It is not hard to realize the figurative inspiration here. From such lofty perspective, you subtly land the reader into the harsh reality of an ending... a cemetary, and a proclamation engraved thereon.. "her loamy litany" speaking from amongst the flowers conveys a final epitaph on cold stone. I like the way you lifted us up in the last two lines though... a happy ending and the faithful promise of more flowers. The notion of expectation prevails here, evoking feelings of hope and assurance of afterlife. You have written this with very captivating expression Carole. This is superb. Except for the spelling of "unraveling" and being curious as to why you capped the "T" in tiffany up there, I have no suggestions that could possibly improve this one! Cheerz, T||2003-09-19 20:54:01|
|Taste of Life||Dawn Parker||This metaphoric delight propels you into the spiritual dimension.. each stanza projects the intrinsics of emotional awareness. Although it's figurative depth is hard to discern for me in certain parts, I gather that you offer this earthy perspective for analogy of how love and understanding grows and matures, as the "storms", rain "sping tears", the 'jolt of evening winds" and the stimulating "force" of the seasons prepares the gound for rebirth. This is a wonderful parallel to how the soul endures through life's similar forces, yet somehow heals and evolves to love again and again, etc. Using the element of reflection: "causes this soul to rise and warmly remember"; and "makes the purpose clear and the memories sweeter", in the first and last stanzas subtly lead the reader to presume that there is a deeper level of experience expressed within the lines. Perhaps that of someone who has recently reunited with a loved one, or is stepping into a new relationship with someone who has touched her soul in a remarkably new way. I like the obliqueness of this one. You share enough to evoke the reader's curiosity and tantalize their natural quest for poetic understanding. Uncovering the hidden meanings behind works of this nature tests the reader's discernment, while maintaining a safe distance for the writer to express her personal inspiration behind it. I like the ending "The seasons prepared us - for the dish of wholeness", and the presumed analogy of the seasoning of souls, who have grown to realize and appreciate a more holistic form of love. Beautiful and eloquent! CHeerz, T||2003-09-19 20:23:55|
|So Nice||Judy A Badger||Hi Judy Haven't seen your name on here before! What a refreshing, short and sweet poem this is. It all moves in perfect time with the traditional rhyme scheme. In simple form, it speaks volumes about the nature of loving and feeling loved. I can't say I'm a "period" person with regard to most poetry though. For some reason, using periods at the end of verses makes it sound too much like a monotnous recitation. The period is abrupt and chops off the thought process accordingly. Poetry is as much about whats between the lines and where your mind takes the lines that are spoken/written and not using punctuation in lines give the reader's mind more freedom to elaborate on what's initially fed them... does that make any sense? Of course this is only my personal opinion about periods in this particular "style" you've written in. I've used commas, elipsis, exclaimation and periods at times, but only to enhance some emphasis, pause or reflection on speach patterns I've used. You might try this poem without the periods, just for the heck of it. Of course you may want punctuation on certain lines, like say the Live. Love. Life. one, because somehow it works well with the three separate, one word synopsises you repeat as a sort of "home phrase" in this one. Anyway, thanks for the presentation. Don't take my suggestions as a negative, just a consideration. I enjoyed the poem regardless of that Judy! Please continue to share your talents with us! Cheerz, T||2003-09-16 11:36:45|
|Epitaph||Ken Dauth||Hey Ken, what's up? Such a dooming piece. I can certainly identify though, each month when I see my credit card statement. Got two in college that manage to hold down jobs, but always seem to fall short when their car insurance is due! Like this one, cept for this stanza, more specifically the first and third lines. "Put me down for the place where the sun does not see A good distance from the highway A place difficult to visit where no one to shed the tears of condolences meant not for me" Somehow they seem awkward. Perhaps you could condense them more. Maybe say: "Reserve for me, a hidden place the sun can't see". A good distance from the highway Too difficult to visit; so no one can shed tears of condolences meant not for me". Everything else seems to lament according to your wishes Ken - and that it does very well. I'm all bummed out now, as a testament to this fact - ha ha Cheerz, T||2003-09-10 23:38:44|
|Looking Back||Thomas Edward Wright||Sounds like a dream I had once after embibing one of those cheap box type vinos one night. I shaketh my head over this one Thomas... albeit not negatively. It's a rebounding culmination of twisted thoughts that well.. seem to get more twisted with each line. At the end of this one, I was sure I'd been somewhere and back and dowsed with some uncomprehendable explaination for the trip, but doggonit, I have no friggin idea where and why. This evolves with an odd and oblique manner of representation. I'll just say this then... you play a real good bum, Thomas! Cheerz, t||2003-09-10 22:44:41|
|Right to Life||Rachel F. Spinoza||Wow. All these right to life poems today. This one, the other side of the coin.. a jolting revelation of an abortion gone awry, or so it seems in the concluding stanza of this piece. Thank God, this happens in only a minute percentage of cases, as does the actuality of pregnancy resulting from rape. Less than 2% I read somewhere. A perplexing dilema of twisted realities and force fed morals... yet it speaks... shouts.. as loudly as sunshine screaming. A cold and forboding shadow of controversy Rachel. Between the lines the truth is somehow uncovered. The fact that sins derive from both things we have done and things we leave undone. No comments or suggestions. Some poems just unfold and adhere in the mind, defying any changes. Bold and perceptive. Cheerz, t||2003-09-10 22:30:33|
|An Immodest Request||Rick Barnes||It's not really that immodest Rick.. actually, immodest probably better defines the motivation behind the request, instead! Nope, I'd call it subtle indiscretion... a touch of naughty romance uttered in a politically correct fashion... several modest steps before becoming the X rated.. which of course is then ovedrshadowed by the triple X rated... I could go on. Ok, it could be immodest to the upity and prudish though! This one's a 10 Rick. Especially the closing line. I can't think of anything you'd need to do to improve this one. It's one of those "meant to happen" pieces. Bet it just came to ya one day.. Truly, I'm not just bein a lazy critiquer, heck I don't hold back if I see even a hair of a poetic blooper, but nope, this one's there. Rhyme scheme, timing, aesthetics. Nuttin wrong.. zilch. A perfect 10 in my opinion Rick! Cheerz, T||2003-08-16 20:40:26|
|Lost||Cindy D. Clayton||Lost. The word rests on my parched tongue. Cracked lips hold captive any utterance for help. The dryness of my flesh has become my master; my driving force being to quench it. * I'd make the line above, 2 lines instead of one. Also "the word "being" sounds awkward somehow. Perhaps state it: "my driving force is to quench it". The sun, once perceived to be beautiful, now burns my eyes as my head turns quickly away. * Again, I'd make 2 lines out of this. I'd also change it to read: "I once perceived the sun as beautiful" Now, I quickly turn away, as it burns my eyes" In the silence of this desert, I am reminded of when He was my song. * Try: "In the silence of this desert, I recall when He was my song" (again, making 2 lines and shortening it up. Now I have lost the words. He was my river, but this drought has dried my spring. My calloused feet followed their own misguided trail. * Try "follow" and make it present tense, following the way you do other lines. I have strayed so far I am not sure how to turn back, or if anywone knows I am gone. * spelling of "anyone" * Again, 2 lines would work, such as: "I have strayed so far to turn back now, Does anyone realize I am gone?" Day in and day out, my hunger and thirst demand fulfillment. * you could tighten up with: "Day by day, my hunger and thirst demand fulfillment." God, send your rain to fill my river. *Maybe an exclaimation mark after this one? "God, send your rain to fill my river!" Reveal to my ears the sweetness of your song, * try an elipsis after this line "Reveal to my ears the sweetness of your song... then wind up with the last closing line as you have it: And restore to my eyes the beauty of your Son. * you could also end the last line with an exclaimation to enhance the emotional effect. Very poignant otherwise Cindy. It is a very touching figurative journey in the spiritual realm. Most of us can identify although some still don't realize the "Son" is the only way to be truly found! A strong piece with bold realizations spoken with great sensory words. Cheerz, T||2003-08-16 15:40:05|
|Untitled Haiku||Barbara Ascolese||Hi Barbara.... love Haiku.. especially to critique.. so short and simple. Does this mean I'm a lazy critiquer? You bet! ha ha Unbelievable how something with so few words can connect so intrinsically with the soul. Wondering why you called it "untitled". It's so profound I think it earns a more relative one... how bout "Caressed" ? You'll come up with something I'm sure! Cheerz, T||2003-08-16 11:14:27|
|Love's Equated Opposites||Cindy D. Clayton||Firstup: change the sp of "etenally" to "eternally", but you probably picked up on that one after you posted it, no? I'm famous for that! No biggie. Reader's would miss it that subtle faux pas anyway, unless they did the spell checkie. In the third stanza, first line, did you intentionally leave out an "s" after hold? Wasn't sure about that, as I felt that word needed one somehow, since "posession" was singular. Not only do you define love as a mystifying array of paradoxes, but you use assonance to emphasize the "L" in Love. The "L" sound repeats constantly in the lines of the poetry. Not sure if you intended this, but I went on assumtion, therefore being that the words containing those sounds were so appropriately discriptive of love, I chose not to suggest other words to balance out that effect. I might suggest altering the third line in the first stanza "compels me to act". Chosing a less general, more definitive word would accentuate the depth of feeling you seem to want to take the reader to. From the comparisons the reader is convinced that to love is to inevitably be willing to risk vulnerability. Possibly using one of those two words "Compels me to vulnerability" or "compels me to take risk". Of course a myriad of words might break the word "act" down to where it is more integral with the deep thought process here. Your style is interesting, going from a 4 line stanza down to one (or 2 ones). You could also consider condensing it down a bit so there were 4 stanzas as in the 4 letters in "Love". The second to the lase "one line" stanza could be made into two lines by dropping the "do". Such as: "In the very deprivation of isolation I truly discover what it means to be desolate." Then follow up with the last one line stanza for closure. Or, combine the 2 2-liners into a 4 and forget about the 4-3-2-1 scheme altogether, as that wouldn't at all detract from the piece, and would trim the aesthetics up a bit. Just some suggestions to consider, but my summary is, this is a great work standing as it is, regardless. Visually speaking you picked a most appropriate font for this one! It is a soulful melody of reasoning. Cheerz, T||2003-08-16 10:30:03|
|Poem Title||Poet Name||Critique Given by Terrye Godown||Critique Date|
Displaying Critiques 1 to 42 out of 42 Total Critiques.
If you would like to view all of Terrye Godown's Poetry just Click Here.
Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!