This Poem was Submitted By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2009-09-21 00:46:32 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Court - Summons & Complaints Mists ~~~~~
Gray Heavens grace hushed
to corners flanked with sluggish days.
Languid imp,
moon over rivers
can not shine inside deserted breath.
Swallow not death; nor beast in the entry
of crushing pieces eating time.
Rather, fuse illusions to pleasure
streams stretched afar as you are,
Turning waters neck deep.
Mesmeric ~~~~~
Bathing unwavering King “Sir Woe"
till his hosts of discord
leave without end.
Bequeath white scarf to ladies limp hands
worthy to cover her humble entry pristine.
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Copyright © September 2009 DeniMari Z.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2009-10-06 17:23:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.96000
Dear Deni
Having just reviewed your "Pain" poem, I finally have a way to speak about this one.
I get the sense here that there is less 'felt' emotion at work than in the other poem, it's a noticeable degree more intellectual ... and for me, for that reason, less successful. It doesn't have the 'flow' of "Pain", the language is much more 'jumpy'.
I think a re-write is in order.
Best wishes
Mark
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2009-10-06 17:23:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Deni,
Hmmm. You've unsuited this lawyer. This is allegorical without animals - but I feel a swishing tail and inching whiskers - and I'm not sure why.
MSS
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2009-10-02 23:09:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.94444
Hi Deni,
I guess this has to do with ageing. Once more, you have demonstrated how hard you have worked with imagery. The expression in this piece is powerful.
Very nice.
Duane.
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2009-09-23 12:35:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
"her humble entry pristine"...that's a new illusion for me, reminding me of the ivory doll
Chinese physicians used to help a modest lady explain her malady.
And this is a poem of cascading illusions. Do they, "...pleasure/streams stretched afar..."?
I think so, for, as with me, they send us searching into our own cupboard of imagery and past
recounting.
"Cannot shine inside deserted breath" is by far the best and my favorite.
Be just a little more "aiming" and your power will increase exponentially.
JCH
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