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|Poem Title||Poet Name||Critique Given by Rebecca B. Whited||Critique Date|
|The City Masculine||Joyce P. Hale||Joyce, Now, you surprise me with the city in masculine form! I look forward to the read! "He wakens from a vivid dream, eyes still hazed with sleep; stretches like a sinewy cat, last night's clothes in a heap." [whether the city is male or female [in your other poem], it still wakes up amid a mess of flury!] "He is the urban corporate world always driving hard to win; his the high-powered politics where careers both end and begin." [nice image of success created here] "He is the vendor on the curb, the beggar by the door; the povery-stricken streetgangs, and the drug- and alcohol-lure." [and the opposite image created here of the not so successful] "Then when the streetlamps brighten and the shadows darken long, when the nighthawks and the owls patter forth to do their wrong...." [it takes a turn here, and the night life is portrayed as one of street's formidable foes, undesireable activities] Why then he struts among them all prepared to be their Lord! He's the City; he's the vessel in which all their dreams are poured. [the last stanza leaves me with the feeling that it is the nighthawks/owls who do wrong that are the winners here...and he, the city, is their lord...yet, he is the vessel in which all their dreams are poured...is that the image you desired to create? I may be reading too much into the ending, but it left me with the feeling that all their dreams are for naught.] Good read and good imagery here, and the metaphor of city/man works well for me. I would just like to see it end on a more positive note. In looking over it again, I do see that you probably meant the dreams of the successful and downtrodden alike are to be poured into his vessel...it is just that you leap so quickly from the next to the last stanza into the final one, that my mind only associates it with loss.] Later, Beck||2005-07-16 20:57:20|
|The City's a Woman...||Joyce P. Hale||Joyce, Nice metaphor the city as a woman, a woman who uses her persuasive ways and untold beauty to allure poeple to her and satisfy their many needs. "She rises from a rumpled bed, outstretched arms above her head; rustled hair is loose and awry, sheet pushed aside with sensuous sigh." [nice intro, as the city awakens to greet a new day...much like the frenzied pace as she greets all who come to her] "She is the dark and sullen homes on rundown streets with unwashed rooms; she is the busy suited career with cultured voice and hair austere." [she houses the poor and the successful alike] "She is the crowded commuter train, the storefront dim and the disabled lame; the buildings tall and the streets below that teem with people who move and flow." [nice imagery, as I envision her essence] "Then when the daylight hours are done, she lets down her hair to look for fun; reddens her lips and brightens her eyes, puts on her high-heeled pumps' disguise." [and the imagery is effective here also, as I envision the nightlife, streets glaring in bright neon color...just a suggestion, as this stanza jumps out at me...try using less of 'her'and 'the', like: When daylight hours are done, she loosens coiffed hair, looks for fun; reddens lips and brightens eyes, puts on high-heeled pumps' disguise......like I said, it is just a suggestion...you would have to edit other stanzas as well, and even out the meter that the changes would alter] "She moves through the bars, lifts her glass, now she's a hussy, wanton and crass; she is a woman during hours of light, but changes to female for darkness of night." [I like woman/light, female/night...as it allows the reader to see her ability to loosen her reserve, resort to her feminine wiles under the cloak of darkness] "The city's a woman, lovely and free, who changes her skin like the changing sea; laughing and lazy whenever she will, ready and anxious all dreams to fulfill." [ah, yes, she does adapt to the needs of her people, does she not?] I like this poem, and the metaphor of the woman/city, everchanging to adapt her essesnce to accomodate the needs of her people! Later, Beck||2005-07-16 20:38:47|
|With Banners Flying||Kenneth R. Patton||Kenneth, You have created a poem about love in a most intersting manner. I like the comparrison of King Arthur [to you]and of Lady Guenevere [to your love]. You create an image of two people so deelply in love that neither desires anyone/anything other than what these two bring to their union. His initial reaction: Mount a glorious charge! Win the day! or die in battle Her intital reaction: My first instinct was to send you off like a lowly knave Turn on my heel! Spurning in dignified rage! set the tone of your poem well...aren't we glad that in matters of love, we overcome our feelings of unworthiness, one for the other, and find true love and purpose in ourselves and what we each bring to the love feast? I am glad that you amazingly, miraculously found your one true love! Very interesting read, and I enjoyed! Keep those banners flying, Beck||2005-07-12 08:44:14|
|Smile||marilyn terwilleger||Marilyn, I sense that the smile you receive comes from someone beyond this earthly realm...the spirit of someone dear to you, as you remember his/her spirit. OR, it could possibly be that you write of God's smile, reflected in the sun [son] giving light to darkness, beckoning to you through the wind, causing you to pause, smile back in gratefulness. OR, it could be the smile of someone living, someone whom you regard with special meaning in your life, whose smile reminds you of anothers, and you are lost in memories. So many possibilities...the mark of a good poet, as it allows each reader to draw from it meaning, put it in proper perspective for their souls. Nice alliteration gold/glitters; winds /whisper; smile/sun/smile and nice assonance as well, as your words seem to whisper a sense of contentment for this reader. A refreshing read,well done; I enjoyed; drew much from so few words! Thanks for posting, Beck||2005-07-12 08:15:37|
|Where Do They Come From?||Kenneth R. Patton||Kenneth, In my opinion, this poem covers just about every thought process ever experienced by a poet when he/she muses his/her thoughts before putting them on paper. We all have past experiences that shape our lives, mold our poetic thoughts. I really enjoyed this read, as it made me reflect on my past, and the things that inspire me to write. They come from the child so afraid to speak he could only shout [I like the justapositon of 'speak' and 'shout' here...a child living in such fear that he/she cannot speak, only find his/her voice when the fear become so great...a shout forces it way to the surface] They come from the boy paralyzed by fear curled up in a fetal ball [so true, many revert back to fetal positions, as if it will provide them safety] They come from the lad with a homemade haircut frantically arranging hand-me-downs [how true it is that those who have experienced a life without wealth heve learned to make do with their provisions...I think that those of us who grew up without learned the value of something far greater than wealth. And, were subjected to ridicule from those who were far better off than we...however, the lessons learned served us greater than the stigma's stamp put us down] They come from the teen who once dared to love so fragile no one could know [how true this is...we all, at one time or another, have laid our hearts out there for others to crush...it seems so cruel that this process is required in order to find one's true soulmate] They come from the guy with steely resolve to never again let it out They come from a hippie who had it all figured demons are easily drowned [we of that generation all felt as if we were invincible, did we not? Oh, that it had been that simple...but, I think our generation contributed to society in a way that awakened many eyes] They come from a drunk in glassy-eyed shame stumbling down deadly roads [the alliterationl in this stanza is great! I sense a movement, like that of one traveling down those deadly roads, which led to nowhere...your imagery is great, as I envision he/she in all his/her misery] They come from a fool in the depths of despair thinking he was all alone [ah, but many have felt they were fools, only to learn they were not alone] They come from a soul beaten and raw defeated, conquered and crushed [good imagery here also, as you portray a picture of one in such despair] They come from a baby re-living his life in the brain of a middle aged man [I really like this...we all reflect upon our lives as we get older, and desire to relive our experiences, hoping for a better outcome] They come from a person so completely recast a stranger unto his own self [and find that we no longer know the person whom we once were...'a stranger unto his own self'...very effective] They come from a mirror that looked back with love amazed that it ever returned [I sense a turn here; a reflection of one who has found hisself/herself again and can truly love the person they have become...in amazement, they find hope for the future] They come from a creature exploding with passion no longer afraid of unknown [all 'monsters in the closet' have been slain, so to speak, allowing this person to live in freedom from fear, oppression, ridicule, loneliness, etc...] They come from a poet a strange silly poet who knows that he?s finally come home [and found his poetic voice in a most profound manner!] I really like this Kenneth, as it portrays the evolution of a man who has come full cirlce in life, and now enjoys the essence of who he is. Tell your children that your life's experiences serve your poetry well! Great read! I look forward to more! Beck||2005-07-12 07:45:28|
|The Back Side of the Moon||Mell W. Morris||Mell, What imagery you create in this work! Movement abounds in the first stanza: "I long to Gash the daylight" [make your depression/hollow out your niche in the sun, a chamber in which you can seize the day and all it offers..good] "Grab the evening star" [and all the light and magic it holds/bestows on those who witness its beauty] "Caress opaline sky" [ah, there is beauty here...a sense of fulfillment] "Dash with terns" [run, frollic and fly with marine birds that are smaller, more slender than other birds...I can envision their movement now, and realize why you long to dash with them over the wateres, sands of the earth] "And Perch with birds like notes on a staff." [The simile here is apt....birds perched on a musical score, like notes inked in harmony.... a longing to be as one with earth and sky, is what these last 3 lines represent to this reader] I have to [you move from longing to necessity, as indicated by 'I have to' ] "Sway with seaweed" [nice movement created here...you move with the flow/tide...ebb in waters deep] "Crawl inside azure" [deep inside the ocean, suggests a drowning affect for me...slowing moving to find the surface] "Fling back waves" [fighting wave upon wave, till you finally throw them back and surface waters] "Feel mizzling rain above" [only to feel fine drops of rain on your face; suggests a refreshing of sorts to this reader, as it is not a pelting rain] "And Fly high with paired doves to the sea.' [you soar, with the aid of others...could this perhaps be two dear, gentle women friends or two gentle children coming to your aid? Or, doves, birds of peace carrying you on their wings to soar high above the sea?] "A bright yolk of light in my window" [very descriptive imagery used here to name the sunlight; great metaphor 'bright yolk of light' for 'sun'] "Brings me back to muse on word flow." [the sunlight which awakens your senses, focuses your mind on the words you ink] "Neither time nor tide has mended my wing" [this is a very effective way, in my opinion to meld stanza one with stanza two...all the things you long to do with your time, and all the feelings of ineptitude which surfaced in the tide] "Rendered unspeaking by pain of the thing." ['wing rendered unspeaking', nice personification of the 'wing', as if it could have spoken in the first place...and it cannot soar throught the air, either, as it has not been mended by tide nor time...'pain of the thing'...an un-named source which brings/causes you pain...while I personally know of the pain you suffer and inject that into this poem about which you write, the way you address the 'pain' leaves it open to the reader's interpretaion, allows he/she to personalize it and transform it into their 'pain', whatever that may be...well done!] "And yet I recall the feel of soaring" [expression of hope, the hope of regaining that feeling of soaring] "Shall not yield till healed, pouring Reels of word rays," [poetry penned in rays of hope...your use of the word 'reels' here suggests to me that your poetry shall be flexible [deal with whatever life curcumstances arise] and wound tightly in hope [rays of hope]for the future] "Psalters of praise." [and filled with poems of praise for life, the good and the bad, and for friends who shall see you through; and you, in turn, give them reason to offer praise to their god for your life, your friendship, your essence!] Mell, as always, very well done! "The Back Side of the Moon", used as your title suggests to me that you have come from darkness/despair into light/hope for the future, whatever lies in store, and want to share your spiritual/magical journey [after all, how many on earth have ever soared to the back side of the moon...and what is the back side to some, becomes the front to others simultaneously] with all] Thanks for a most enjoyable read, Love and prayers, Beck||2005-07-11 13:30:21|
|Haiku on Midsummer||Joyce P. Hale||Joyce, In 17 syllables, you have created a magical image of midsummer nights. You have named a season [summer] and given the reader an insight into the magic of summer spirits as they search for unwary souls to frolick, enjoy the pleasures of summer nights. While traditionally Haiku is in 5-7-5 line syllable counts, and the season is not named, I find myself caught up in the poet's use of her poetic license to create an image of pleasure. Nice read, I enjoyed, Beck||2005-07-11 12:23:54|
|haiku (snowplow)||Joanne M Uppendahl||Joanne, Well, I finally made it to one of yours! I am still going down my list, but did not get to crit much today, as Brian was working from home on his computer. The imagery you have used in this haiku is awesome! You have touched my senses, visually, physically...and now I am cold....BUURRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! Your use of the word 'waste' [of kisses] and the repetition of 'white' in the last line, creates a very vivid image of a snowstorm for this reader! And, your use of 'road-clearing' in the first line, as an adjective for 'snowplow' [as if one is needed, that's what a snowplow does, does it not?], only adds to the perception of the image [maybe precipitation, as well...LOL]...this reader envisions a snowplow working ever so hard to clear the road, but never achieves it's goal due to the flurry of kisses that the storm bestows on it, and the roads as well. Great job! I love it! Now, I think I'll trade my iced tea for some hot chocolate! Later, Beck PS....the rains that I emailed you about have arrived! It is raining cats and dogs outside, but our new kitty still slumbers peacefully on the bed!||2005-07-05 18:16:58|
|Listen to the Animals||Claire H. Currier||Claire, 'Listen to the Animals' is a very appropriate title for this tale, which you so cleverly spun, allowing this reader to feel as if she had joined you in your angst while you dealt with this day, one that the animals had [by their senses] deemed doomed! LOL I love the way you wove many poetic devices into it, creating a most enjoyable read! The sky darkened behind the house Near the base of Mount Tully [nice imagery here...stormy skies looming/towering over Mount Tully, with you and your household at the base of it...this day was the pits, was it not? ] There was not a sound to be heard [ah, the calm before the storm; not even your pets dared to be outside in it] Pretty Girl was inside her house Snowball was hiding somewhere on the porch Big Jake strutted right into his coup They waited...........[it is amazing how animals sense these storms, is it not? I suppose it is God's way of protecting them during fowl weather [sorry Jake! no pun intended]] Rain drops began to fall A gentle tapping at first [I like the imagery here...raindrops gently tapping] Just to let you know the storm was here [gently announcing its arrival] In the blink of an eye the sky turned green The winds howled bending forth limbs with such fury Even I ran for cover [I like the way you inform the reader of the fury of the storm, and the color of the sky, green, a bad omen here in the south, as it usually means a tornado is aloft] The power went out as lightening struck the transformer Sitting high on the pole across from the house You heard the sizzle of the impact Saw the flash of light Then total darkness [this imagery is excellent, auditory and visual alike...I can just hear the transformer blowing now, sizzling with untamed electricity!] Reported to Mass Electric the outage Then I went to bed......... [what else to do during a storm, right? NO power, no lights, no tv, no nothing!] The afternoon came and went Now I lit the candles Found a few flashlights Still darkness filled my world [besides telling of your activities, the reader senses your anxiety, in your use of the words 'darkness filled my world'] It was hot, humid, no oxygen to be found.....[oh my, the house does seem like a sauna when the power goes out on hot summer days, does it not?] Called Mass Electric one more time Indicated I was still without All alone here in the woods of Tully They said they were working on it Be patient.......so I was I waited till nine o?clock before calling again [It never fails, we sometimes had to repeat call out outages in as well...you were more patient than I would have been!] Have you gone down cellar to check the breakers? Lady, I can?t do stairs, no I have not.....[I absolutely love this line!] If I did they would find me there waiting to be rescued [now, I am rolling on the floor laughting! I am afraid they would find me in the cellar waiting to rescued as well...right there beside you!] To be honest she said you are the only one Reporting an outage on your road I will try to send the truck one more time Little did I know no truck had been by yet [ah, but to save public ridicule, she informs you that it is not their fault that it isn't repaired yet, and telling you that you are the 'only one' who has reported a power outage seems as if she is indicating that it is your fault in some way] I called my son who was at work He left to come and see if the breakers were my problem [aren't sons wonderful! Off to rescue Mama!] Living so far out The Electric crew was here working on the lines Before my son arrived [no matter how inconvenienced they are, right?] It was the transformer across from the house The one hit at one in the afternoon I asked why no one else reported an outage and he laughed saying .... Lady, you?re the only one on this line Well, that answers that but I certainly did not feel special.......[and I am sure you did not feel special at that moment! No wonder you were the only one reporting the outage! LOL] The lights came on as my son drove into the yard..... Praise the Lord.... Bless the men who work extra hard to help us in times of trouble [I think that your outage was not properly reported to the line crew upon your initial call, what do you think?] Bless our children who respond to our calls for help. [AMEN!] Claire, this has been a most enjoyable read! I am glad that you survived this scarry ordeal, and that your son came to your rescue, as did the line crew. The title of this poem was not lost on this reader; I understood it perfectly! Well done! Later, Beck||2005-07-01 20:51:49|
|Playful Rain||Mandie J Overocker||Mandie, What an appropriate title you have chosen for this poem, which sings of a playful lilt ['a rhythmical swing, flow, or cadence']! "There?s a river in the parking lot I thought you?d like to know If you decide to come or not To plan which way to go" [nice intro, as it informs the reader that the person you expect to meet you there may or may not attend because of the weather...however, I sense that you know he will show, by the playful tone to your words...LOL....a 'river', it must have been raining hard!] "The water?s dancing on the street It?s a spectacle to see I hope the rain will still let us meet It?s that important to me" [nice imagery here in this stanza...I like the personification of the 'water', as if it had the ability to dance, make a spectacle of itself. I sense your anticipation here also, of the excitement you feel in anticipation of your meeting] "So don your yellow raincoat And grab your trusty umbrella Come to me if you must by boat You are my love, my fella." [besides informing your fella of what to wear to prepare for the weather, your descriptions of 'yellow raincoat' and 'trusty umbrella' brings to mind for this reader the image of sailors on a boat, dressed in their rain gear, forging the storm to reach their destination...great image! Come heck or high water, he must get there anyway he can!] Thanks for sharing this with us on the link! I truly enjoyed the uplifting read; felt as if I were the one waiting for her fella to arrive for much anticipated rendevous! Well done, Beck||2005-07-01 19:45:01|
|Unknowing||Dellena Rovito||Dellena, "I'm not sharing... My mouth is full of words unspoken I am full up, of emotions untold. Behind my eyes lay layers of hidden thoughts." [Wow, this is a nice intro to someone who feels that they cannot share with anyone their deepest thoughts and emotions....filled to the lip they are with these emotions, yet, cannot force their lips to mouth their innermost thoughts. The repitition of 'full' emphasizes the depth of these emotions, as well as 'layers of hidden thoughts'. I like the way you state that they are hidden thebehind 'eyes,'...it is as if they are there, but no one sees them.] "You think you know me, but you can't." [and the reason they don't see them is because you won't let them...as indicated by your use of the word, 'can't', not won't but can't...what keeps one from allowing others to see deep within the hidden recesses of our souls? I fell that we all have done it at one time or another in our lives] "If I don?t know myself, than how could you? Do I know you? I am positive not." [these two lines really create the image of someone who is hidding from themself as we as from others. And, the use of 'I am positive not', enforces the fact that you don't know them nor do you care to know them...also, it allows the reader to feel as if the other person hasn't put forth much effort to be know, as well] "Glimpses into the midst of all that obscurity will only tell what is allowed to show." [and if by chance someone does see beyond this veil of obscurity, you will only allow them to see what you want them to see...we all do this, do we not? You know, only the good shall be allowed to come to the surface...we bury the bad deep within ourselves.] "If we won't say, opportunity goes." [ah, here is a line of redemption, of sorts...you admit, that by not allowing ourselves to get to know each other on a deeper level, we both [all] miss the opportunities that a relationship would offer...maybe you don't want to hid yourself, you just haven't found the right person to share yourself [your real self] with?] "I surely must know someone ?anyone??" [and here is the reaching out, the crying out for someone to know, anyone that will accept you, hidden thoughts, ideas, desires and all!] I have critiqued this as if it is 'you' who possesses these thoughts and cries out for someone, anyone to know and accept you...only because that was my train of thought as I read it. It really applies to us all, as it is only human nature to feel insecure in relationships until they are developed over time. And, what opportunites we miss while hiding behind ourselves. This piece makes one draw deep introspection as to what relationships mean to us, and to others, and why we so often hide behind the cloak we call 'ourself.' Great read, nicely done! Later, Beck||2005-07-01 18:52:53|
|These Eyes||Donna Carter Soles||Donna, I am touched by this poem, as you have captured the essesnce of one who feels betrayed by an un-named source, be it a person, an event in your life in which you were harmed physically and emotionally [the emotional scars seem to scream out at me from your words], or life in general due to the fact that you have never overcome this abuse/betrayal in whatever form it may have occured. ***Just a suggestion: how would it sound if you omitted some of the a's and the's, and even out the meter in the lines? Something like: silence becomes silent cry... whisper of heart, whisper of lie? a wail, a scream tears apart my soul, my mind, my beating heart! I know I can never escape echoes of lies, darkness which fills my lifeless, blind eyes! This is just a suggestion, which in my mind would even out the meter and rhythm. Also, the line breaks would allow the reader to absorb each line in a deeper fashion. It works either way. Now, to the heart of the poem! Silence becomes a silent cry... [what a vivid image of suffering you create here...in your silence, you elicit a silent cry for whatever has happened in your life that causes your darkness/pain] A whisper of the heart or the whisper of a lie? [these two lines indicate to me that you are unable to distinguish between truth and lies that have filled your life...the use of the word 'whisper' indicates to me that this feeling of angst silently pulls at your soul/ever present in your mind] A wail, a scream soon tears apart [in reflection, the silent cry of the soul, mind and heart becomes a wail, the silence unbearable for you any longer] my soul, my mind, my beating heart! [reaching the very core of your essence] I know I can never escape these echoes of lies and the darkness which fills [the 'echoes of lies' indicates to me that you have lived with them for a long, long time, and they are the source of the darkness which blinds your eyes, makes your body feel lifeless, as if not of any worth....the person/situation filling your soul with these lies has made you feel worthless..how sad a picture you paint, very vividly, I must say!] my lifeless, blind eyes! Donna, the theme is presented well here...I hope you find a way to fill your eyes with light again [you or whomever you wrote this piece for]. Keep writing, as you do it well! Later, Beck||2005-07-01 17:21:42|
|Rungs||Mell W. Morris||Mell, "It must be grand to be healthy A rose in the cheek, cherry-hue;" [great intro and imagery in these first two lines...you have captured a perfect imagage of someone blessed with health and enjoying it so] "And with ease I would cede wealthy For a rainbow out of the blue." [give all you have for a bright blessing from heaven? Your imagery here continues, as you paint the image of being blessed...how do you do that? aweome!] ** "I wish I were a tall birch tree and all who see me smile widely, My scars sparce, scabrous [rough and knotty...even with the scars of life, the birch's beauty shines just as it is intened to shine; bring joy to all who witness its majecty] and lovely tended by the sun's majesty." ** "It matters not the coin you hold [no good luck charm, or any amount of money you could possess can heal] nor my search into foreign rites; [no magic cure or incantation?] The answer lies in wisdom old While someone is listening nights." [Your God [and his will] is the only answer, as he listens to your prayers at night...as you pray for healing, to be able to arise from your bed of pain, walk again] ** "Lift me from my soft bed - no talk, Give me your hand and I will walk." [With him, all things are possible, and by the guidance of his hand, you will arise and walk again. I truly believe that Mell...your faith is strong, and it shows!] Wonderful poem, Mell! Your poetic devices serve you well! My best to you, and sincerest prayers, Love, Beck [rough and knotty]||2005-07-01 16:25:38|
|Passion's Mercy||Cindy D. Clayton||Cindy, How poetically you have versed this, as it intices the reader to feel the emotion you display so vividly. "Eyes that pierce me as swords" [I like this lead in, as it shows how you are captivated by him, his desire piercing your very desire] "Lips surfacing passion from within" [my, what vivid imagery, I sense the passion within of which you speak] "Ears that listen, hearing all words Hands pulling me into my sin Intimate words whispered in ready ears" [these lines are inticing; whispered passion seems to shout in these lines] "Sweet rhythmic motion Intense closeness ridding [riding] tears Sin fades to emotion "Give me my sin again." [You have certainly used your poetic devices to pen this poem of passion's glory, and all emotion found within your 'sin'...well done, very moving poem] Beck||2005-07-01 10:58:33|
|Prideau Malraux on 65th Street||Michael J. Cluff||Michael, "Neutered [deprived of vitality especially by psychological means?...a very conservative dresser?] pinpoints on the light purple silk tie," [this man, dressed very distinguishably, is obviously trying hard to blend in, not stand out in the crowd...reserved, in control] "the white shirt" [prim, proper, pure] "holds his lust in" [yes, I feel that he is trying very hard to contain his self-control...his pride ballooning his chest up...proud of his self-control] "until the zipper breaks" [oops...he lost that self-control!...] "and his fly then becomes open to possibilities." [at last, he is free to persue his uninhibited nature with pride and partake of the pleasures that await him...I assume that he did not intend to loose himself [no pun intended] in his surroundings, he just got caught up in the moment!] Malraux, art historian, political activist and author [La Condition Humaine (Man's Fate)??...one of his books for example]...do you write of the human condition of arousal that your subject experiences while at a bar, cafe, etc...? I am sure that the refernece to 65th Street has meaning, but I do not know what it is that you allude to; no matter, as I assume it is the address of a popular meeting place. Or, do you allude to Malraux's pride and his ability to expose himself in world political activism, as he was a man proud to offer his hand of assistance in world situations, wherever he was needed or felt he could be of use. His works 'portrayed art as an outgrowth of past art rather than a reaction to contemporary stimuli'? Could it be he protrays a new art form? Nice read, Michael. I enjoyed it. Beck ps...is there a statue of Malraux erected on 65th Street, in some city unknown to me, that I am not aware of? LOL||2005-06-24 15:08:04|
|Persephone||Mandie J Overocker||Mandie, "Persephone" [your title identifies your theme about the daughter of Zeus and Demeter, who was kidnapped by Hades, god of the dead] "Dried out branches and bloodstained leaves Tumble through the fall Of whispering trees" [This introductory stanza relates to the barren season, when Persephone was with Hades and also, I associate it with the earth opening up, allowing Hades to seize her from the meadow where she was picking wildflowers, as alluded to in "Tumble through the fall Of whispering trees" ... I like that] "A tortuous tale of The change of seasons Innocense lost Brings no rhyme or reason" [a tale of devious tactics, trickery; very descriptive] "A grieving mother Searches for child lost A beautiful soul Such a horrible cost" [the soft sibilance of the 's' here sounds as if one can hear the sound of Demeter's sadness, as she searches for her child] "He came out of darkness To wildflower fields And stole her away To hell she must yield" [kidnapped against her will, she must yield to his will in hell] "He made her his wife" [did he force her to eat the seed of the pomegranate, the fruit that symbolized marriage, or did she do so of her own free will?] "Promised everything there But sadness became her And nothing would bear" [in her sorrow, she could bear no fruit in her womb from his seed?] "Her mother still grieving Continued to seek And cursed all the earth For so many weeks" [Demeter, goddess of agriculture and fertility, cursed the earth; laid it barren] "Her father had promised Her to this thief" [did Zeus promise Persephone to Hades, or did Hades kidnap her?] "But seeing the turmoil He turned a new leaf" [Zeus ordered Hades to return her to her mother, not realizing that she had entered under the marriage veil to Hades...I like the use of 'turned a new leaf,' as it indicates one of the reasons Zeus wanted Hades to return her, so that the earth would be fertile again] "She may return From darkness therein But one condition Not a thing could be eaten But four seeds she ate" [I think that if you identified the pomegranate seeds and their meaning, it would tie in the reason for her absence from from the earth for four months out of the year] "And four months we see bare" [due to her absence from the earth] "Lands with out fruit In cold dark despair" good imagery here; the earth in mourning for her absence, which is spent in the underworld. The myth of Persephone explained the cycle of fertility in nature; thus the seasons.] "Mother and daughter united But bittersweer is their tale For once every year She must return to the veil." [ah, Zeus' arranged compromise between Demeter and Hades; two-thirds of the year Persephone would spend on earth with her mother, and the other third of the year, she would spend with Hades; bittersweet indeed.] Nice read Mandie, interesting and deep... Later, Beck||2005-06-18 20:31:33|
|Abyss||Jesus Manuel Lopez||Jesus, Ignoring Nietzsche [I like this intro; very effective way to inform the reader that you are seeking spiritual satisfaction/transformation/foundation, as Nietzsche, himself, criticized 'religion' and its concepts] I brazenly gazed with addled eyes [I like the juxtaposition here of brazenly gazed, and addled eyes...strongly, glaringly looking at something with eyes that have become confused [thus you search for answers] and/or rotten [addled: to become confused, or to become rotten] and finely fractured faith [yes, here it is, the faith that you somehow seek to find again, as you once had it, but now have doubts...nice alliteration used here...the use of 'f' brings the allusion of something fragile to mind for this reader] into the abyss [the dark void that you seem so alarmingly close to the precipice of] the abyss [interesting word, abyss:'the bottomless gulf, pit or chaos of the old cosmogonies [theory of the origin of the universe or creation or origin of the world/universe]'...you brazenly stare into the abyss and it stares back at you, as if it knows your innermost being, your purpose for life] stared back at me in me chilling me exposing me [knows moreso than you] We stared at each other [I like this, as it creates a 'standoff' between you and the abyss, allowing the reader to realize how deep your search is and the depths of the abyss and its depth of knowledge. Also, the abyss could represent intellectual or moral depths, so a battle rages within you to find the answers] with a deep understanding that barely scratched the brambly surface of Russell's secret [I like the alliteration of the benign sound of 'b' and the sibliant sound of 's' used here; like a soft searching sound, if sound had a tone/pitch]...Ah, Russell, pessimist that he was; I once read that he is the most noted logician since Aristotle] of happiness that the world is horrible horrible horrible [no happiness to be found, if you look at life according to his theory...I wonder if he developed a mathematical theory for that as well?] Then for a split-second Schopenhauer's observation [now, you introduce Schopenhauer's theory that, being the pessimist that he was, 'we experience the world not as it really is, but only as we represent it to ourselves, and in that way, we change it'...if you believe his theory, then there are really no answers to those questions you pose in your quest, only the world as you percieve it to be and that one's will can never truly be satisfied] that after your death you will be what you were before your birth [but what it that? no answeres found here today, are there?] answered all and none of my questions [Jesus, you alluded to the theories of three great philosophers here, and are still left with no answeres, only questions; perhaps we will never know until after our deaths, right?] I enjoyed your confrontation with the abyss, and I, like you, don't have the answers; for now, I suppose we should just enjoy our journey...like, Schopenhauer, I tend to think that we experience the world as we represent it to purselves. Thanks for the enjoyable read, very thought provoking, Beck||2005-06-17 19:48:41|
|Contentment||Debbie Spicer||Debbie, "After years of sadness I have finally found peace Wondering if depression would ever cease. Thrilled beyond anything experienced before Each day before seemed as if chore." [I am glad that you finally found peace and that medication was the source of your discovery. Depression to me seems to be one of the worst things one could face in life; day in and day out, never finding contentment, always finding new things to fill your mind with despair.] "Finding a new med which worked so well Good-bye despair, to it farewell." [I like your use of 'good-bye' and 'farewell' in this line, as it seems to allow the reader to sense how emphatically you have said farewell to your depression. It give this reader a sense of elation over your victory] "Suddenly the sign, which told me to quit Came upon me so fast I couldn?t admit." [I am sorrowed to hear that your are experiencing side affects from this med. I am sure that you tried to ignore the signs of side affects for as long as you could. Sometimes we are faced with trials in life that just don't seem fair...makes your wonder why your body won't tolerate the meds] "I needed to stop and go back to the past Oh now why with happiness unsurpassed." [perhaps it is possible to go back to the past without the meds and see if you can find strength upon which to drawn on from your most recent happiness that you have experienced. I don't know about depression [only mild bouts which can be overcome with a conscious effort...not the debilatating kind of depression that robs your soul, your spirit, your life]. I am so sorry that you are faced with this decision: your mental state of well being or your physical state of health. "Tell me the rash is something mild Let me be happy to not be riled." [Have the doctors confirmed that the rash is of serious concern? If not, I would not jump to any conclusions just yet. Maybe give it time and see if it developes into something more serious? I don't know what meds you are taking and I don't know the risks involved with taking them, but I am sure that you do. I would procede with caution and follow my doctor's advice. Is there another med that your can try, one that you haven't tried before? I know that you have tried many in the past. I pray that there is one that your body will tolerate.] "I don?t want to stop no matter what But it can be fatal, don?t let the doors shut. I finally found pleasure with life looking good, Do I take the chance and be understood? [no, not at the risk of a fatal reaction. I know that it will be hard to stop the meds for fear that the depression will return. But, perhaps it will not return as severe...is there a chance of it happening that way? Debbie, your presence in this world is important and I don't feel that it is worth taking the risk. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers. I pray that you find something that works for you.] All my best, Beck||2005-06-14 13:15:02|
|I Don't Know||Kenneth R. Patton||Kenneth, You speak so lovingly about this friend; all your strength and love you would give to help her in her time of need. The undertone [for me] here, is that she has spirituality, strength, and love to give, her love of life [as evidentally, she lives each day to its fullest] and you draw these things from her spirit, a spirit willing to live. "I know little of spirituality But I know you encompass it" [how well founded she must be in her spiritual quest, as her spirit shines brightly enough for you to see that she encompasses it] "Nor much about strength But I know I would offer it' [all the strength you have, you would offer it...sometimes when we see others struggle with illness, it is our only hope that we could take the pain away in whatever strentghs we possess, be it the ability to heal, or just be there for those who are suffering] "And so much I don?t know about life But I know that you live it" [she has evidentally lived her life to it's fullness...a fine testament to one living and enjoying the fruits of one's labor, all that one can be. Sometimes, when we face life's trials, our character is defined by the way we deal with heartache, pain, and loss of one's former existence, as represented by the pain and suffering she has coped with for 10 years. She lives life and strives to conquer whatever comes her way] "I know the very least about love But please know you have mine" [this is very touching...all the love you have, you offer to her.] Kenneth, this is a nice tribute to your friend and the impact that she has evidentally had upon your life. Please give her my best, and I pray that she might be allowed to conquer the cancer. If she loses her battle, you can find peace in the fact that she lived her life to the fullest, and bestowed many true blessings [love, strength, honor, grace, spirituality] upon her friends. Thanks for posting, I enjoyed meeting your friend through your words of love, BEck||2005-06-14 09:20:41|
|Depending on What Is Is||Mell W. Morris||Mel, I can't imagine who you are referring to, without openly naming him! Just kidding, this poor man will never live this one down! [LOL] "He likes a curvaceous woman, no stick figures like models." [I like the simile here...stick figures/models; perhaps the curvaceous women are more pliable!] "He places women in a category with peach [I bet he thought she was a 'peach' at the time! However, that pitt was probably hard to swallow later! LOL] cobbler: crusty on the outside, a sweet filling." [ah, sweet imagery used here; appleals to my senses! " "Okay, Senator," he says, seeing the girl under his desk, checking her lipstick." [as if she has any left on her lips! If she has an open mirror under his desk, can't you just imagine his reflection in it? 'Bliss' seems too nice a word to describle his expression; perhaps 'smug satisfaction' describes it better] "His voice never changes the entire time. "Well, Senator, I believe we'll come together" [oh Mel, you naughty girl! Does this count as 'poetic allusion' [alluding to what just transpired under his desk]?, LOL, or irony?, or what???] "on the issue," laughing at his pun" [I see you just answered my question LOL] "as he hangs up the phone and slips a hundred- dollar bill in the girl's pocket." [was there money involved? Must have been for her to submit to an oldie goldie like him, being that she was so young and goodlooking!] "He has no further need for the aging senator and should focus on his plans as the end of his tenure nears." [I bet he thanks his lucky stars everyday that his tenure wasn't cut short!] "He has options but what he wants is power. No, not power... respect. No phony backslapping, no air- kisses with women and no gratis speeches. He wants respect in the manner Aretha demanded and then commanded." [I can hear Aretha belting it out now: RESPECT, find out what it means to me, RESPECT, taking care of TCB [?]...I can't remember all the words...oh yeah, SOCK IT TO ME, SOCK IT TO ME...] "All he has to do is flash that come-back grin and...remember the definitions of small words." [yeah like 'is' 'is'!!! He can blow it in the wind, as I don't buy his debate on that issue! LOL] Mel, thanks for the uplifting read! Blowing [excuse the pun] a little fun to the wind, are we, at the expense of another? While humerous, this poem has a deeper message: elected politicians need to respect the office to which they were elected....save the fun and games for after hours. I suppose, after all was said and done, he did demand respect and then commanded it, as he kept his job! It was a pleasure to find your post today. I hope that you are feeling better and stronger each day! Take care of yourself, Beck||2005-06-11 20:50:44|
|Sole to Soul||Timothy Holyoake||Timothy, This poem really speaks of brotherly love that should be shown to all. Never knowing how close successful people walk to the 'gutters' of the street...I like that analogy; we all are but one footfall away from the anguish and despair that the homeless face everyday. Our church has a program that clothes and feeds the homeless twice a month [doesn't seem like enough, does it? BUT, the load of the program is shared with other churches in the area, so it is more often than that] and it is interesting to hear the stories of the people who have fallen on bad times. The sad part about it is that some may never rise up from the anguish and despair. These lines are very profound; we should all take heed of your message: "You don?t know my name, but you know where to find me. I could tell you why I sit upon the street, a shadow of the life I left behind me, Now hungry, weak and always tried, I am ever so slightly broken. But you?ll never know if I?ll mend, as we have never spoken." Thanks for the posting of this poem with its all important message; well done. I enjoyed the read, although my heart is pained because of the plight of the homeless. Later, Beck||2005-06-10 18:55:54|
|Thunder||marilyn terwilleger||Marilyn, Are you sure you weren't a quest in my home on this night? [LOL] It has been raining here for days upon days! We are expecting a tropical storm to hit the Gulf Coast this weekend, so our Saturday and Sunday forecast calls for more storms! When will it ever end? Nice rhythm and rhyme, allitereation, and personification in this one....it paints a vivid picture of a stormy night and the daylight clear that follows. I hope you aren't experiencing as much rain as we have had here! Later, Beck||2005-06-10 15:47:30|
|unittled||Rachel F. Spinoza||Rachel, Thank you so much for this one! I feel honored! Poet, you choose your words wisely, and aptly, in order to make the greatest impact upon the reader's mind in so so few words! Bear with me, as I tell you of the impact it made on me: "Jacarandas" [a flowering tree native to 'tropical' America...the word 'tropical' brings to my mind the 'rains' of the tropics which provide the proper climate in which these trees may flourish...that brings to mind the rains in California which have caused the mudslides. Then, as if that isn't enough, the Jacaranda is considered an ornamental shade tree; that brings to mind a place of refuge from the destruction] "bloom" [I associate the word 'bloom' with the spring season when the earth renews itself.] [And then you take it multi-steps deeper!] "Purple" [Jacarandas have bluish-violet flowers...blusish reminds me of the sadness/despair/somber feelings associated with this event as the earth has been beaten/bruised by the devestation...and violet/purple can be used to associate a regal or high status in which they will 'reign over' the destruction...the use of the word 'purple' can also indicate 'highly rhetorical' [as you so aptly convey your message, while writing most effectively!] "flowers" [oh my! if one researches the Jacaranda tree, they will find that it is a tree with small purplish bell-shaped flowers [much like a bugle blowing taps for the dead and signaling victory over the destruction!]...and it has delicate fern-like leaves which give the appearance of a feather...a feathery soft touch to the earth, much like a mother would delicately touch the brow of her child to comfort him/her...I also associate 'feathery' with birds soaring high, in this case soaring high above the destruction...THEN we get to the flowers which are suspended from many tiny leaflets...panicles in a pyramidal loosely branched flower cluster which cascade over the mud, draping sorrow!...'Pyramidal' brings to mind the Pyramids [burial places of the dead] in which the sloping sides of the pyramid represented to the Egyptians the 'slanting rays of the sun on which the dead may ascend to join the gods after their death'...ah, beautiful pyramids of Jacaranda flowers covering the destruction] "cover mud;" [beauty amongst all that destruction]... "California" [the place where the destruction is rampant, but the Jacaranda blooms tower over the muck and mire, signaling rebirth of the earth and spirit!] BRAVO Roni! I admire your work! Beck||2005-06-08 11:01:50|
|senryu||Rachel F. Spinoza||Rachel, A well written senryu, true in form with a satiric tone in your message. With all that is going on in the world, this paints England as many perceive it to be. You have said so much in so few words! I envy your ability. 'Scapegoated soldier' seems to say it all for me, and 'penal complex' indicates they are now being punished for their contribution. Well Done! as always, Later, Beck||2005-06-06 19:47:41|
|Sometimes||Kenneth R. Patton||Kenneth, How aptly expressed this is! My brain has been shouting at me for some time now, and I wish it would stop! I like the personification of the brain shouting commands at you, rather than stimulating your pen in hand and stimulating your senses. I think we all feel this way at times. I hope it tells you to put your pen to paper soon. Thanks for the uplifting read, Later, Beck||2005-05-31 19:34:54|
|verse 69 (Thunder)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Ezrah, You never cease to amaze me with your haiku! I can just envision the storm in all its glory! 'Evenfall parade', I can see the storm as it gathers strength marching across the night sky, and hear the cadence of the thunder, the distant drummer. What a poetic show! Great job, Beck||2005-03-07 22:24:30|
|I Can hear Humming Bird Wings||marilyn terwilleger||Marilyn, How true it is that once one has cheated the angel of death, he/she is more perceptive to all things great and small; the psyche seems to have been propelled deeper into what lies within us. "I cheated the angel of death and found rose colored glasses that beguiled my senses like succulent ambrosia." [I love the imagery you portray here...and the simile of 'succulent ambrosia' is wonderful, an aphrodisiac of sorts for the soul.] "more dancing stars in heaven." [I never really took notice of the stars until I returned from my near-death experience; now they dance for me always, as if inviting me to come to them and somehow be closer to the celestial realm] "The muted sounds of alfresco leave me breathless, [nice assonance in these lines, sibilant sounds softly calling] even solemn silence holds sound for me with its soft sibilance [you even addressed it here! I like this] in my ear and now the avid thunder speaks in tongues." [wow! you continued it throught the stanza...well done! I like the juxtaposition of 'sound' and 'silence'] "There is eloquence of beauty in discovery of trivial things. If I were to lie beneath the sky I could hear clouds applaud heaven's choir, rain drops before they fall..." [oh, the silence and solace found after returning to earthly realm; nothing is ever quite the same, is it?] "and now I can hear humming bird wings" [this line really brings me to my knees, because lately, every time I am really down and depressed I sit on my patio and it never fails, a humming bird hoovers just at my eye level, in your face, so to speak, and flaps its wings at warp speed trying to get my attention! I too can hear humming bird wings and the message he brings to me!] Well done, poet. Thanks for the great read! My best to you, Beck||2005-03-07 22:17:33|
|Becoming Spring||Joanne M Uppendahl||Hi Joanne! I am back with this version, the one I like the best! As always, you have filled your work with wonderful poetic devices and taken this reader on your outing with you! "This morning, I step into woods" [in my opinion, this informs the reader that you are 'as one'with nature], "climbing over rutted mud" [this is very descriptive to me, I like the way it shows the reader that winter has not quite left yet, no frozen ground covered in ice, but no green grass either] "past the trees? soft caves." [now you really have my attention and have elicited such memories for me! When I was a little girl, I loved to search these soft caves and would sit for hours pretending they were my secret hideaway! There were these trees along the sidewalk that borered our playgroung at school, and I would spent my recess time sitting under those trees! Thanks for the memory.] "Untried tracks find mallard duck twosomes pressed heart-to-heart in dappled sunlight." [oh, what a vivid imagery of romance you pain, my dear!] "Modest hens glance over stippled shoulders, drakes? heads glisten bottle green." [Only you can give us a double whammy of imagery like this...glistening bottle 'green' for color AND the use of the work 'bottle' allows me to see the drakes in all their splendor as they crane their necks in their persuit of romance! GREAT!] They chat in quick quacks, perhaps planning ventures past the pond or in it[this doesn't bother me now, as it doesn't seem to be left dangling and is followed up with more, so as to draw the reader into your following steps which offer even more surprises!. Now I veer off the path sliding on slippery muck left from morning?s rain. "River stones rise from softened earth?s wet fingers," [ok, I am completely rapt in your imagery and personification!] as if to see wake-robins turning shades of violet,their shedding petals fallen from sultry seeds. Soon, hungry fledgling birds will flutter and wait-a-while weather once more slip away.['wait a while weather' [winter] giving way to erendepitous spring!] Green sprouts will germinate again this year; as life renews, "I?ll chant my joyful vision of it." [I can't wait to hear your song!] I likek this alot, Joanne! Whether you call it "Pondering Spring' or 'Becoming Spring' doesn't really matter, but I think I like 'pondering' better....or you could call it Summoning Spring, or Serenading Spring...call it whatever you like, it is a good write!! As always, you delight me with your work! Beck ps...I got a little distracted in this crit, as my son came in and was telling me about his day! Will share details with you in a private email, if interested. LOL||2005-03-07 17:47:22|
|Pondering Spring||Joanne M Uppendahl||Hi Joanne! I guess you could say that I am fudging a bit on this crit, as I have already read the other version, and I like it better! Both are good, but 'Becoming Spring'just seems to have a smoother flow to it. For one thing, the lengthening of each line allows the reader to become rapt in each thought without so many breaks in the lines. "This morning I step into woods over rutted mud past the trees' soft caves, take unfamiliar footpaths, find twosomes of mallard ducks chatting in spotted sunlight. Modest hens glance over stippled shoulders, drakes? heads glisten bottle green as they talk in quick quacks, planning ventures past the pond or on it." [this is the main line in this version that bothers me...I have read it several times, and keep wanting to make it read, 'or upon it' instead of 'or on it', but I see at the end, why your restricted it to 3 syllables.] "I turn and slide in slippery muck left from morning?s rain. Roots and river stones slip from softened earth?s wet fingers," [I really like the other version better here, as the words just seem to slip and slide with you! LOL] ...I think I am moving on to the other version, so that I can say positive, wonderful things! I would have liked this one though, had I not read the other version first! LOL...see you in the other crit! Beck||2005-03-07 16:48:05|
|The Problem With Angles||Mell W. Morris||Hi Mell! Waht a joy to find you on my list! I like this one about angles! No more sharp edges, huh? "I am a thin, defined woman with sharp edges and I know who I am and where I am going."...such a display of confidence in your opening... "I like to envision mine with a canny duende [cleverly sly with a magnetic charm...don't we all think of ourselves this way, if the truth be told!]at the door"..."and a smiling angel perched on a lampshade." [yes, we all need our angels to watch over us, don't we, to keep our lives in tact, protect us from evil, even if sometimes it is of our own making]..."God made me of Himself, another work of art" [you got it girl!] "like many found on common ground, in fens or pocosins, near grasslands, high and low lands," [Mel, I think you have covered your bases well here! As only you can do, you have managed to describe the 'highs and lows' in such a descriptive manner...I like the use of the word 'fen' a lowland partially covered' and 'pocosins', upland swamps...sure adds interest to 'high and low'!..."or lone as a wife on a widow's walk," [great imagery created here, I can envision her now...great aliteration used as well...she the lonely soul but alas, still searching the sea!] "God completes molding His last angel of the day" [this line, for me, initiates a higher plane, and allows us to see that someone of a greater measure than we is at work here] "and places her on the ledges near the nacreous gates." [ah, the pearly gates! I can just envision Him lovingly placing her there nad telling her to play her harp for you] "halo fits squarely." [they describes a good many of us, doesn't it? Thus, the problem with angles!] I feel we all would be better off if we lost our sharp edges.! As usual, Mel, your work is filled with many poetic devices which allow the reader to place him/herself in your work and come out all the better for it. Well written and such a joy to read. Beck||2005-03-07 16:40:06|
|Dreamer's Legacy||Jennifer Wilmot-Lavigne||Jennifer, And what a wonderful legacy it is! You, my dear, have followed in your father's footsteps well! We shall all miss him. I like the use of 'mourning' instead of 'morning'...let it stand. I especially like "Epics of thought open up, Pouring out from a carafe of ink to cup of paper,"..how refreshing this line seems to me...I like the use of the words carafe and cup, a wonderful way to allude to the ink of your pen and your parchment. Keep up the writing Jennifer, as you have a wonderful talent, and I know that your father would be proud! Thanks for the moving read. Beck||2005-03-02 14:03:50|
|Silver Storm||Nancy Ann Hemsworth||Nancy, I like your use of the word 'pretzeled'...powerful imagery used in this poem! Nice aliteration and imagery...I feel as if I have just witnessed the woodlands overtaken by the silvered snow, a crystal circumstance! Great! I wouldn't change a thing! Thanks for the wonderful read! Beck||2005-03-02 13:56:58|
|The Dance Of The Snowflakes||sheryl ann minter||Sheryl, This poem makes me wish I had witnessed the snowfall with you! Good imagery portrays the scene of the fallen snow. I like your allusion of the snowflakes to Picasso...each a work of art! I can envision each flake falling into place, as your canvas of white is filled with shades of memories past...oh to be a child again and experience the joy of youthful imagination! A good read; I enjoyed it very much! Beck||2005-03-02 13:42:21|
|Outside My Window||Patricia Gibson-Williams||Patricia, What vivid imagery you have used here! I can envision the child that you have longed for, yet who wasn't to be. You have given us all a glimpse of the child that lives in your heart. I know that the loss of something that is desperately desired can be as real as the loss of something real. I hope that you have found peace, and let this child live on in your heart. "Dappled sunlight litters her face"...perhaps 'dappled sunlight [dances upon] her face' would give it a smoother flow....either way, it works for me, as I can envision the sunlight on her face...just a suggestion. Thanks for the read! I enjoyed it very much! I feel as if I have just witnessed this girl from outside your window as well. Beck||2005-03-02 13:24:18|
|Alone on A Beach||stephen g skipper||Stephen, Ah, I wish I were the one alone on the beach, as this is mesmerizing! I love the imagery used in this poem...makes me feel as if I am alone on the beach now, being wooed by your persuasive guidance. I especially like these lines, "I am the tide of azure blue, deep and restless, trying to wash your toes with my white foam.". A very nice read; one that allows the reader to become rapt in the seclusion and solitude of which you write. I hope the day comes when you can sail ashore and wisp her away. Thanks, I enjoyed the read! Beck||2005-03-02 13:11:56|
|Morning Coffee||Edwin John Krizek||Edwin, This one certainly stirs the senses and awakens the mind, much like the first sip from a morning cup of brew! I feel as if I am sitting in the outdoor cafe with you, watching as the day unfolds around you...you describe the air in two different ways: "overcast skies gray with fluorescence, and "The air is temperate, pleasant and clear."...perhaps what nature's skies offered for the day, turned clear in your mind, as you realized how much in love you are with life and your love? Nice read; I enjoyed it, Beck||2004-06-20 21:44:10|
|Homesick||Edwin John Krizek||Edwin, You have certainly expressed the feeling of being "homesick' in a most moving manner. I can't help but wonder who the 'two lovers' you have are...however, you have left it undisclosed, as to allow the reader to interpret for himself/herself...perhaps you left one lover for another, or perhaps you left your lover for your love of someting else...either way, you leave the door open to your past as indicated by, "I have chosen, but still my wounds open at the sound of the telephone." I especially like these lines, as they solicit much emotion from this reader: "I am ready to cry out with the agony of separation the way wolves howl at the moon calling to the lost." Thanks for sharing, Beck||2004-06-20 21:30:44|
|Peace||Jana Buck Hanks||Jana, Ah, dare we find solace in the mirror's reflection, a mere refelction of our image? Or, within that reflection, do we delve deeper into our soul, searching for our life's purpose. Rest for our weary souls, will we ever truly find it? And if so, where? Nice rhyme scheme and this one flows easily through the mind of this reader. I feel as if I am searching for answers with you; I especially like these lines: "Mystic revolution dreams Petty lies and hurtful schemes How my life must be redeemed You must tell me everything". It is good to read your poetry again, I have missed you, Beck||2004-06-20 21:22:09|
|japanese verse 29 (Breeze)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Erzahl, I love the wind as it blows through the trees, as it is such a comforting sound...you have captured its essence! This one has visual and audio imagery which leaves me refreshed! Great job, Beck||2003-11-06 21:32:09|
|japanese verse 28 (Rose)||Erzahl Leo M. Espino||Erzahl, No need for me to comment on the structure, as you have mastered the Haiku form, as evidenced by your many previous submissions! You never stop amazing me with your wonderful Haiku poetry. I feel as if I have just witnessed the rose in all its beautiful glory, displaying it's beauty [and ego] in a most self-gratifying manner! Ah, the beauty of a rose in full bloom! Great job, Beck||2003-11-06 21:25:20|
|Role Model||Joanne M Uppendahl||Joanne, Yes, after the storm[s] [of life], life does go on, doesn't it? And what a wonderful 'role model' you have chosen; the industrious spider, ever weaving her web to ensnare her sustanence! "This afternoon the rain called to me blowing leaves, squalling her sideways tears." [the rain called to you, as if asking you to join in her sorrow...nice personification of the rain, as if she had the ability to cry...also a good metaphor for [your] sorrow...rainy days do bring us to remorse at times, do they not?] "Spent flowers bent in mourning ricocheted off the porch, pots tumbling-- no posture of sturdiness left in them." [what a picture of sorrow you paint with your 'spent flowers bent in mourning' [good personifications of the flowers here, as well...and your picture of their demise is vivid...great imagery, as usual, you do have a gift for it!] "How free those fierce gestures, the giving up of what has been and leaning into what comes next." [freely, the fierce gestures take [from this earthly realm] and give [life] again in another...your use of the word 'fierce' indicates that what was given up was done so unwillingly, yet there is still hope of what awaits us] "Afterward, a garden spider bobbled wetly in her web and prudently began to weave once more." [In the aftermath of our sorrow, we still strive to salvage something worthwhile in our lives, living in hope of what is next to come...I like that thought...I wish I were as industrious and dedicated as your spider...she seems to weave out of determination and need; I sometimes feel that we humans continue out of desperation...no hope can be found in looking back, only can it be found in our looking forward of what is next to come, right?] You use your poetic tools well in this one Joanne...vivid imagery and a moving theme. Great job, Beck||2003-11-06 20:45:39|
|Two Diamantes||Joanne M Uppendahl||Hi Joanne, I am not familiar with the Diamante form, but as usual, you seemed to have mastered it! I read on the forum the discussion about this poetry form, and found it to be quite interesting. Your two offerings align perfectly with the structure. Cloud Twisted, turbulent Shifting, shaping, twisting Nimbus, cumulus, flurry, blizzard Fragmenting, forming, freezing Chaotic, fractal Snow I feel as if I have just been caught in a blizzard! LOL!! You seem to have captured the very essence of clouds and their motion aptly! Nice transition in line 4 from the description of the clouds to the action resulting in the snow. I like this one! Mountain Solemn, wakeful Jutting, prodding, piercing Summit, pinnacle, firmament, skyscape Pillowing, blowing, rolling Spongy, supple Cloud In this one about the mountain, I can just see him standing in all his majestic glory, reaching to the firmament, piercing the clouds. Kind of makes one wish he/she could reach up and pierce the sky and soar with the clouds! Hidden meaning here? I think so. I ramble, as I really want to finish this crit and get to your other submission, which truly captivates my senses, holds my heart! Great job, Beck||2003-11-06 20:10:27|
|Eight Dollar Dumb Dad||Paul R Lindenmeyer||Paul, I like the juxtaposition of fog/clear used. In the early morning fog/confusion, you gave him/her eight bucks for lunch [shame on you, Dad!! LOL] Both in the fog and in the clear light of day, you think, 'great kid'...don't we all feel that way about our kids? Aren't you glad that your child provided for one who would have to go without lest he/she gave them money? Dumb dad? Perhaps not, after all, or children are a product of their rearing, are they not? I am glad that you bought him/her the hamburger! Who wouldn't? LOL Great read! Thanks for reminding me of my kids, and how I have traveled the same road before, fog and all! Beck||2003-10-26 20:37:43|
|Sweet, Sweet Music (II)||Mell W. Morris||Ah, Mell, sweet, sweet music; lullabies for the soul, universal aphrodisiacs for lovers, a balm for those who grieve. Music in its many forms, stimulates our hearts, soothes our souls. It is evidenced by the sheer power of your words that you enjoy music of many and varied venues, as do I. This poem sings of assonance, alliteration, internal rhyme, candence, rhythm, and audio imagery filling my mind with the image of one enjoying/savoring the gift of music! Need I say more? I am smitten with your writings! Bravo! Beck||2003-10-26 19:42:16|
|Mother and Child||Jordan Brendez Bandojo||Jordan, I am glad that you were inspired by Erzahl to write in the haiku form. I love this one, as it is so soothing to the soul. It sings of joy! "To her pure [the use of the word 'pure' describles the perfect solice that a babe must feel, cradled in his/her mother's arms, suckling his/her sustenance from her bosom, gaining strength, endurance from her offering] bosom" "Lullabies [this is a new twist; the babe singing to his/her mother, the babe is her gift from heaven is it not? I can just envision he/she singing of joy!] cerubic [ah, the pure innocence, angelic grace that only he pure innocence, angelic grace that a wee one possesses!] tot" "Cradling [the use of the word 'cradling' here carries enormous weight...I can just imagaine the babe being fortified enough by his/her mother to hold the heavens in his/her arms! Also, it describes his/her ability to hold a little piece of heaven here on earth...what a comforting thought! the heaven" Thanks so much for submitting this one on TPL. I am comforted by the pure peace that this one solicits! Beck||2003-10-25 21:31:17|
|My Muse||Donna L. Dean||Oh Donna, don't we all wish our muses were more accommodating? It never fails that I have wonderful thoughts running through my head, as well, but, most times, forget them just as quickly as they popped into my head...I hate it when that happens! 'My muse is a woman, but sometimes a man--young, old and in between. A deep thinker, morose at sometimes, happy at best.' I love these lines, as they so aptly describe my muse! Sometimes, I even imagine mine to be an alien! LOL 'My muse is not wealthy, which is ironic for I have never known wealth. ['My muse just now told me he might'...for some reason this seems forced to me...Perhaps it could read, 'My muse told me, just now, he might'...kind of adds an element of surprize to the line, a little punch, if you will, informing the reader of your muse's ability to inspire at random, in a quick manner...just a thought] inspire me to write about a wealthy gentleman.' [I like the way this leads into your 'venturing out on a limb']. I love this stanza: 'My muse isn't a certain color, unless the color various [clever! I like 'color various'] will do. He isn't fat nor thin. He or she loves to bite into a meaty poem though.' [don't we all love those meaty poems?...mine are often far and few between...LOL]. "My muse wishes I would venture out on a limb once in a while. But I was pushed off a diving board when I was nine and fought with all my might to break the surface,and once I made it to the edge of the pool the instructor couldn't see my tears because my face was wet." [my, you have informed the reader of alot here...the fear of the unknown, unfamiliar things that makes one remain within their safety zone, rather than venture out onto new horizons! I like "the instructor couldn't see my tears because my face was wet.'good imagery that solicits pity from the reader. Your last lines say it all! Your muse keeps coming back for more, in spite of the fact that sometimes he/she is successful in inspiring you to write something poignant, grand and at other times, your fail to grasp his/her inspiration! I hope that mine is as persistent as yours! Well done, Donna! Beck||2003-10-24 21:38:42|
|Colors of Aah!||Donna L. Dean||Donna, I like the imagery used here! 'like a pink pearl in a bottle of olive oil'...I can envision the sunset now. Your use of the word 'drop' sets the tone well for your theme...as if, as the sun sets, you drop from exhaustion into the solace of the evening, allow yourself to relax and enjoy your surroundings. 'The paired butterflies are orange like the jack-o'-lanterns.' [nice simile] 'I write to the tree, to the soil, to the sky and they write back to me.' [I like the way you have expressed your communication with nature here, the personification of these things, as if they could write]. "I fall like the leaves of gold and brown upon my bed communing with my heart," [I can just imagine your 'freefall' now; I like the imagery used here.] "dreaming of your dark-brown irises." [and what a dream that surely must be! Just one more thing needed in your quest for rest, is he not? LOL] Great job, Donna! I like this one! Beck||2003-10-24 15:16:03|
|Leaping Lizard||marilyn terwilleger||Hi Marilyn! Tinker, I shall not, as after reading this, I have the most vivid image of this leaping lizard trying so hard to make headway, but, alas, cannot! I feel as if I have just witnessed his 'psychotic frenzy!' LOL I know that your theme is the lizard, but it can also be applied to all us souls who try in vain to succeed or make sense out of a chaotic situation! Let this one stand, if the lizard will coorporate! Great haiku! Beck||2003-10-05 20:07:50|
|Allegiance||Andrea M. Taylor||Andrea, good to see you posting. This haiku is true to standard form, line count of three and syllabic count of 5-7-5 and it is titled, which is not the standard for haiku...the fact that most are not titled always amazed me; I suppose the desire is for the poem to draw introspection, causing the reader to identify with the theme and thus name it in their minds with what they draw from its meaning. I think that you have captured what most hearts felt after the attacks of 9-11, an allegiance to the freedom that we share in our country and your use of the 'Eagle' as symbolic of our country and the freedom that we embrace is apt. I have one suggestion that, perhaps, would give this poem a powerful 'double meaning,' which is hard to do in the restricted form of haiku [so much to say, with so little structure allowed]...it is only a suggestion: 'Eagle of the sky soaring wing of might and grace freedom to embrace'.....the use of the word 'soaring' would allow it to be an action word [verb] for the 'Eagle,' as it soars high in the skies symbolice of our freedom, and also an adjective for the 'wing of might and grace,' its wing of might and grace, something that one could hold to as one embraces the freedoms we embrace....just a thought. You theme is presented in a clear, moving manner...long may the Eagle soar in the skies over our land of freedom! Thanks for the read, Beck||2003-09-13 05:25:25|
|Tempest Fugue||Rachel F. Spinoza||"Soon, I will tell you sea tales, tantalize you with sagas of typhoons and cyclones - yarns so vertiginous you will fall overboard. Splat!" [WOW, Rachel, did you ever get my attention here! Splat!, I like that! I do wonder who is the object of your intent here...someone whom you want to fill their head with enough storm sagas, allowing you enough time to spin yarn's web within their mind in order that you might cause them to become dizzy, fall overboard, in order for you to rescue them!] "I will carry you ashore, resuscitate you, until you undulate in sea rhythms and become salted to my taste" [ok, now under your spell, you will have your way with him...this is sensual, I especially like the 'undulate in sea rhythms"/salted to my taste'...[is it hot in here? LOL] "I will marry you to adventure [this is a promising statement; as if you are just the one to free his adventurous spirit] you, who is lounging, so deliciously, [I like the image here...he, the object of your fantasy, satisfying your desire without even trying or being aware that he is] on the blue couch hypnotizing my cat with yarn" [I doubt that the yarn he uses to hypnotize your cat is as strong as the yarn you spun to capture him in your subconscious web!] Rachel, you have used all poetic devices expertly; need I say more? Your use of 'Fugue' in the title indicates to me that you 'in a disturbed state of consciousness, perform acts in full awareness but upon recovery [from the tempest] can't recall your deeds.' Perhaps its a good thing, if he is not yet aware of your subconscious thoughts! Thanks for the very enjoyable read, I can't wait to read the sequel! Beck||2003-09-09 21:58:39|
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