Tony P Spicuglia's E-Mail Address: poetbard@poetbard.com

By adding a Personal Profile, the information you add will be displayed whenever someone clicks on your name from any number of different screens. You can also add your very own Picture, Favorite URL & Favorite Song to your Personal Profile!

So far 709 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 Tony P Spicuglia 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 Tony P Spicuglia's Poetry just Click Here.

Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!

Poem Title	Poet Name	Critique Given by Tony P Spicuglia	Critique Date
Ode To Annie Adams	Joe Gustin	Joe, this is a particularly strident piece. As for business first, S4 L4 needs fixing. Either remove the first –to- or change it to –that- or some such fix. Fortunately your meaning is clear. Your dedication brings the reader to share in you admiration and love. That she has\ –left- this world and the author misses her is not deep enough an explanation for the thoughts the author shares. The simile of her time away and the –distance between us- is a brilliant touch. So time becomes relative to the separation and in a sense dependent on that separation for measure. That –sunlight- and –shadows- both have coexistant value since her passing, and the transferal of the light and dark into –twilight- is also a poignant image for those watching. That the –rain- often seen as an inhibitor, is actually symbolic of tears, and yet those tears contain the touch of her –kiss- once again is a brilliant turn of a phrase and thought. I thoroughly enjoyed the piece.	2012-10-27 10:28:44
Dying Winds	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, it would behoove me to resist the looking behind while glancing ahead, interpretive dance this piece takes me to. It is too easy to speak to the integrity of living and dying and miss the aspects of the passenger. There is where the treasure is held. The –antique eyes- are always a matter of travel more than of age. Undoubtedly somewhere in the depths is found the –tears- (at times profuse) and the memories. However the story is that with the integrity of knowledge comes the inverse action that with the passing, fewer look deeply inside the eyes of the traveler. Those temples hold a polished intimacy gained no other way. –runes- if read, the reader will find there is magic in the reading. And –words- and –truth- When I finish reading the best of books, or poetry, there is always the pause that wishes it would continue, sort of an aura of belief that has transited where only that moment of diction could traverse. Sometimes it takes days for the aura to dissipate and in a sense I await the –dying winds- maybe more a metaphor for living than death, or vice versa, but certainly a –meaning- for life. -trite whispers- for the reader of the whisperer, the traveler; there is never such. In another place the truth of the traveler unmasked will not be seen as such. However, those who accompanied the traveler on the journey know the truth, whether they will honor it or not. In reality, the –runes- speak more of the participants than the traveler. It is the traveler whose passions have painted the canvas, it is really the participants who must escape the –dying winds- I know, a lot of nothing, but this piece is not such to me. It is revelation to the watcher.	2012-10-22 15:15:20
Pumpkin Pie	Ellen K Lewis	Ellen, so here I start this on a separate plane from you. I adore pumpkin pie, could eat it every meal- so what you write means more to me than you not having written it. L3 – mom’s- and I know the can’s although I always reached for the canned pumpkin, and not the canned pumpkin pie mix. Listing the procedure as an –omen- is sort of the inverse of my experience, I’d rather see it as the preparation for the coming of the event. -a lot of tasting and stirring- here you bring me in with you. It was my favorite time as a child, when mom was cooking and me, the skinny whelp usually offered this and that. I often have this doppelganger feeling when reading a piece like this that were I so sneeze and the mothers suddenly switched places, the kids would scarcely notice long as the goodies kept a’comin’. I enjoyed your assonance (have/can, were/stirring/flurry) it added a homemakers touch to the enjoyment.	2012-10-21 21:15:46
Beautiful October	Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.	Medard, I have tried to separate the experience from the moment. October, there is something permutable about the coming and the ending, yet also endearing. I could, were it to gain- fish the trout and dream of the pumpkin. It is the changing of seasons, really the only insolvent change. Certainly summer and winter are notable, but spring, as with October, these are –pleasant evenings- as you speak so. -special things reemerge- is probably as apt a description as any I have heard. The preparation for the harvest, the colder times, -death and hibernation- almost a metaphoric insinuation, are tugs to the heart. –prayers- as you speak, are of reaches beyond the harsher times, and yet have their own genesis in what October, where the John the Baptist speculation of spring is anecdote enough. I enjoyed this read, the personal reflections and the larger global view. Now to the next day, that the road, as prepared, reflects.	2012-10-20 14:22:54
Picturesque	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, I looked at a similar scene, early each morning about he middle of October. The moon seemed particularly siren like this year. Maybe it is me, maybe it is not. The words written, - It hangs there- is about as enlightening as the image itself. Your ensuing relative location, moves from external to internal- and are feelings of reciprocity that is often felt. For me, I wondered why I haven’t conversed as much as in my more needy days- certainly the –free- that is ceded is as powerful! Then again, much like God, I hedge the grievance with amazement and wonder that I wasn’t missed and contacted as well. -broken fortress- makes the reader look again at the universality and constancy of the vision as viewed, later as once before. I don’t know, or I do; and old defeats- I have often yearned for the uninhibited passions associated with a wilder time. –Picturesque- now there is both the cogitation and the repertoire. There is a lot of soul in this piece.	2012-10-20 13:59:24
The Metaphor	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, there are so many things that this can be applied to, of love, of politics, of this site, of you and your life, of me and my life; it is poignant. Of the metaphor, you were able to add a universality, and yet I never left you sitting on the stump. You were always there, and I felt an empathy for you, and for me, and for everyone, particularly for you. I despise crows with a passion, so I threw the rock with you, and as usual, they dodge it. Some may say the inevitability of life’s occurances sustain themselves, but one must conitinue to believe there is hope. Although there is no active hope in this piece, the indirect ability to cause movement of the scavengers, reflects the hope, as does the actual term –metaphor- in this piece. Metaphors are often predeliction, not necessarily actual endings. I sat with you and –ached in love- and that is enough for me.	2012-10-13 10:38:51
Fall on my mind	Ellen K Lewis	Business first, S1L1 –There’s- S2L3 –algae- S3L1 –tomatoes- btw I cook and love fried green tomatoes! S4L4 – idly- S4L5/6 don’t like two ands in a row, or even in a stanza. Now the meat, S1 I appreciate your goal –if I understand the mating ritual correctly, If I don’t, forgive me- a little tweaking and it could be delicious –L4 I’d use –in the hearth-. As for the –balls-, were it me I’d have been less direct, more –whose desire swells- but then again there is a strong attraction towards a woman writing candidly of a males anatomy, so what do I know. I adored S2. Of loss and preparation – the end and the beginning- having neither evil nor goodness, just is. Wonderful. Today I do to my 17’ X 5’ above ground pool, just as you say. It is current and the need to see it go is demanding. I imagined watching you swim strokes across yours. I wish I could say I have ever owned a –real- swimming pool. It sounds splendid. Lastly, the last stanza, of the final preparations, a new direction and again rebirth, or in your words, creating- with the home fires, and thoughts of spring. I really enjoyed spending this time with you.	2012-10-13 10:31:20
Quantum Picture	Jordan Brendez Bandojo	Jordan, the mixing of photons in multiple locations, living and dead cats, and an ant on a trek from Venice to Paris make for an entertaining soliloquy. That you know of the double slit experiment and its result or anthropomorphize the inanimate of an atom, adds substance to a very living view. (of course, if consciousness is a product of quantum mechanics as I believe it is, then an anthropomorphized atom is salient as a metaphor). I liked this piece. To presume the physical image of God is captured in the metaphysical recombining of the quanta world is a sort of brilliant leap. As a matter of fact, contextually it adds a level of validation to the concept of God. A very well presented poem, and treatise. Well Done.	2012-09-16 10:45:54
Faith	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, I would usually marginalize my response to such a piece. In fact; were it not for my love of garden fresh tomatoes, as compared to the faux offerings in a store, I might even have skipped such a piece (the respect for the author notwithstanding). Even, when envisioning the sun on the “flank of a cow” would my desire to sit daily in rural worlds and write; there also the concept of faith would hinder me. No such luck. I spend long days in a job that allows me inferior allocations of time to do what most absorbs my soul, pay exorbitant taxes for those who refuse to work or who break our laws, and time takes a dissonant look at what remains. So, then we come to the nip of frost, death of bees, blemishing of rot, and then the peach that tastes so good to someone who can absorb the wonder of this world and its provision. Now, that I can do. (Personally, I adore a drubbing rain). So, I am back to the genesis. I have a small greenhouse that is just big enough for a few offerings. Those offerings are mostly tomatoes. It will soon be back to store bought abominations. Faith will have to sustain me till the next season. So, I guess your piece succeeded in its goal.	2012-09-16 10:37:11
ode to summers end	Ellen K Lewis	A wonderful sweet, passionate, fun piece. Some of it I did this weekend, (unfortunately no two steppin’ and wheat layin’. A couple quick suggesting, S4L2 take me to your promised land (for meter reasons) S5L4 as we play out what we feel (once again to smoothe the meter) I played this piece again and again. I know it was about summer, but I felt there was a grander metaphor, of life and living- That summer has its fun, but cedes to other interests, and life also is the same, at phases of its development. I also saw in the metaphor from the summer analogy, that life also moves in cycles. Give it time and it will come around to fun again (we hope). Anyway, it was summer’s fun however it was meant to be.	2012-09-04 14:30:24
Down By the River	Ellen K Lewis	Ellen, it is a saddening poem. I will hold my tongue on the –green- but still sing the dirge with you concerning what was and is. To lose what can be viewed as pristine, even to the progress of water development is unfathomable. I forgive drought and hurricane, but the realization of immature thought always makes me shy away. A full blood conservationist, but that also means more about life than also thing. Your description put me right there, listening and breathing- sleeping with nature and absorbing the cul-de-sac of a person’s integration with life and living. There can only be hope; and as I have intimated, I doubt seriously it lies in the –green- philosophy and money grab.	2012-09-04 11:21:12
Rest	Mark Steven Scheffer	One wonders if a prophet before the fact utilizing what it actually is after the fact is a disclaimer for what should have been. Of the –balance- the –shadow- the –inevitability- the –acid of scorn- one has to presume a level of dependence between the prophet and the action. The image of the –pinprick of light- and the –owl’s ex. (vision)- only stresses beyond the impact a seemingly small light can bring, but also contrasts how bleak things are that the miniscule hope is so bright. Of prayer, I have my own philosophy on the efficacy, on the hope behind prayer, without it –be as it will be- is a dirge set to action. -YOU- and here the author address someone; I assume the reader, maybe the poet, but it can alsow be a secondary watcher who is the object of this message. Either way, good poet, recalcitrant poet, good person, bad person, imaginary object lesson person, here, there, it is obvious that –reason- will not solve the issue and is in itself, an issue ex. (-prison). So, I am back to the prayer thing, the hope thing, which brings the only sense there is to the structure of the message. A strange oddity concerning the use of –prayer- is that your premise remains with prayer or sans prayer, that is - it will be as it will be- and the truth of either courses can never be proved correct or not correct; for the completion of either, negates the possibility of comparison by eliminating the facta probandum needed to reconcile the truth. Therefore is hope given its power; as also prayer becomes its compulsion. I am not sure of a hopeful or doubtful course in this piece, but it is a piece that pieces together both.	2012-09-04 10:45:26
For The "Good Guys"	Mark Steven Scheffer	A very candid prose. Of course the image you give us is probably exactly the image you want us to have, Father Tom notwithstanding. It could be Brother Jerry, or Sister Mary Kay, or many far worse than any of those. How does one measure worse? There lies the ides of judgment. However you brilliantly skirt the issue by identifying what they are not, rather than what they are – good guys my ass. This is a much greater element in your piece than I think you know. Maybe you do know and the strategic placement is more brilliant than I thought. I do not like to laud a poem that speaks of such terrible instances. That said, I want to laud the author who chose to expose the sinner rather than dispose of the institution. Maybe that is the whole point of the good guys and bad guys. How much good wouldn’t be done by the real good guys if all was destroyed by holding the bad guys to the fire? Thanks for sharing this piece.	2012-09-03 11:36:57
Musings	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, well- getting over the analogy of magnetism to gravity as a sort of metamorphism, I’ll gladly return to the –willow tree- and your love. On a personal note, willow trees hold a passionate, enduring connection with me. It is a long story, sort of like yours, with an unwanted ending. I said that to say this (if you can get over the cliché). Your use of –magic- takes the timbre of the piece beyond the normal love each other story. Usually magic describes the connection, or the imprint of two, but here you grant it to a third party (whether inside or out really doesn’t matter). Your –sidewalks of our lives- is a brilliant simile. In fact S3 is has a newness worth traveling through. –savage season- -frivolous life of dreams- yes, even that magnetic thing analogy that works better in the context of your verse than gravity. S4 is brilliant in a very good piece. S4L1 – such an beautiful image, it evokes the scene and makes the voyeur wish to partake and kiss the girl himself. S4L2 I am not sure of the intent of this line, but I adore the –ragged days like a spindle- My assumption is that the new love interest mends a difficult life and brings order and completion to the finished product. You then -weaves the soft skeins of wool- wonderful wonderful and -keep us warm through meadows of rabbit holes- absolutely imagetastic. I am not sure whether you meant the rabbit holes purely in an actual sense or with a secondary comparison to magic, such as Alice in Wonderland- but either way it works fantastic. And we return to the carved names. The best part of this piece is we are left with the endearing, or the haunting. You never tell us the end, together or not- only the magic involved. A very splendid piece.	2012-09-03 11:19:58
Far away and troubled	Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.	Medard, the images you paint are common and extraordinary. You lead with –sometimes- and that continues powerfully through your piece. That love, or desire is created and captures the soul in its own birth, and then aspirations reach, till realization remands is the story of man and woman, over and again. Some might say the –hound of heaven- is much the same, yet this is the inverse, for the soul seeks with only images of what is as the solace for what the aspirations are. -too distant to allow- of the beauty, the vision, the trouble, that is the most candid look through the seekers eyes. –too distant to touch- -too distant too shelter- -too distant to allow-. You have capture in free prose, what is played out in living.	2012-09-02 13:02:29
Epitaph	Mark Steven Scheffer	MSS, -the only consolation-. What a splendid epitaph, if you will, to a magnificent metaphor. In looking at the piece as a whole, I first notice that from the beginning and end there is no reference to health or lack of health (maybe –fancied life- speaks of health, but it most probably speaks of delusion). The one is a given to the other, regardless of health. An astute view of living and death as has been written and you did it without mentioning it. Of the –too late to be partaken- that of you never know what you’ve got till its gone, can be circumvented but often is not. Certainly the epitaph will come, nevertheless, but the wending story might delay the inevitable. Your last stanza is prophetic and realism all in a single vision. However I often read those past items and thoughts and find consolation is a more embittered view. Now, on AOL, I grew up with the original Avant-garde poetry room –scattered poets- (way back when intimacy was a surprise) and to this day I live in a level of consolation. A great piece, even if a bit pithy in style for your normal production. BTW, should it all come to –rosebud- at least some mysteries have been revealed.	2012-09-02 12:26:28
East of Eden	Mark Steven Scheffer	And interesting treatise Mark. That the oasis of both worldly enjoyment (of a rather chaste manner, of course) and the true treasure of eternity. Being one who is quite capable, though I have learned to stem the tide, of immersing myself beyond good graces (one might say), the piece rings true. What I found missing, although it is obvious in your piece that these interests come with the creation of this world (if not this society), is the link of the soul to the pastimes. I see the loss of vision (suspension of belief) but I do not see the gain (inclusion of belief) that allows the soul to immerse itself in those “holy” inspirations (such as poetry, creation, painting, music) that only a –soul baptized in a semblance of spirituality- can produce. Granted, the tender message you brought (quite a contrast to other messages you shared) may include by proxy the deitific influence that brings the soul to know the sweetes appreciations of this world. I think, other than my own astute interpretations, others might need a single line detailing the uniqueness of each individual soul that God has granted the ability to simulate and appreciate such creation as only God might fashion from nothingness. For myself, I find this creation of yours to be inclusive of both S1-2 and the last stanza. I enjoyed this piece through many readings. FYI- not lost on me was your distinction between suspension of belief and disbelief. Astute.	2012-08-25 11:13:40
Grackles	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, maintaining a love/hate relationship with birds I am well qualified to define the verse to the creature. Of course, haters and lovers all probably feel the same way. So, of the verse, or ode to grackles, well… I only really have two critiques, I think it should be consolidated into fewer, more powerful lines, and (since you are describing a specific creature) your final two lines go too far astray from the subject. Make me love the object of your desire. Of the creature itself? I think you have described well the properties of these birds. There are other, less embraceable features, but that would be a story of another vein. I also found it candid that you enjoy the varied song. Of this I have no feelings; now my disdain for crows and blue jay’s grating dissonance is also another story as is their propensity for dominating the morning and evening. Grackles have no such vices. A special kudos goes to your description –purple satin – and –obsidian rainbows- both are spot on for anyone looking closely at the birds. They also do a great job of scavenging the organic refuse, and the re-depositing it as recycled pastels. I always do love a look at what creation has provided the world.	2012-08-12 13:57:14
the last sorrow	Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.	Medard, I am not sure what your note means –diamonds and rust-. Dealing with Corrosion Control all the time I understand the rust. Concerning your poem, of a life lived, I assume diamonds are the high point –the good that is created in the pressure of living- and rust is the low points –the decay and remorse that is carried from poor choices and inevitable disappointment. In the piece, meeting the maker, which is the only moment that would encapsulate all of your premises, the assumption is an acceptable bill of goods, acceptable end product. I wonder how this piece would end if it were about that person whose cumalitive product was found lacking. It is nice not to have to feel the last sorrow, and the hope that the transition is as amicable as portrayed. I will say that, you have also written into the piece the atheist’s point. –when you’re gone, you’re gone, and you won’t feel anything ever again-. Now that bothers me far more than the alternate destination.	2012-08-11 11:39:15
Under the Rainbow	Mark Steven Scheffer	Mark, I am not sure whether I like your poetry better when a have a decent clue as to what you are on about, or when I don’t. So, in the spirit of the piece I’ll imagine that I do. What I won’t imagine is that this is a hit piece, a cooking piece, or a pscycological examination of the poet. Rather I will imagine the poet writing a series of disjointed metaphors that make an obscure point. Of course, we do know some things. The poet wrote a poem, either the poet or the poem –imagined-, pool filters make white type noise (I have one and found this analogy comforting), there is lightening is produced in some storms (yet you saw fit to retrofit the lightening with no thunder, although that is not possible; maybe there is the –silent scream- analogy thing going on here), and that rain usually rains a long time but lightening is short, albeit vocal. Then we jump to investments, selling long and selling short (an analogy involving your earlier analogy)- so the tortoise may when the race, but the hare has a damn good chance of making an impact if it is done correctly. Your comparison to wagers and the stock market (so to speak) is a fine vision of the overall culpability of the medium and the investor. And then it is all gone, or where it was going, or however it will be and that is the impact that remains, for good or for bad. It is the –star- of the moment, or does that put the maker with the stars- Or maybe, the best we can do is wager on our lives with the knowledge known, (for poets write and hope the readers find the accruement without pissing anyone off), and when it is all finished, the soul will bank the truth of living, within the cosmic eternity- Or maybe the author is just having some fun… -imagining-. Knowing the author at some level, I’d find that either amusing or anecdotal.	2012-08-11 11:29:22
Voting Day	Ellen K Lewis	First, for each poem you critique, you add them to the voting possiblities list by clicking on that hyperlink. This will take you to the list you have made. For me, at the end of the month, I review all poems, reorganize them, and then vote from the same page at the bottom of your voting list. As you add the poems, be sure you add your favorite first, and the second favorite second, and onward.	2012-08-03 21:33:14
Harvest	cheyenne smyth	You characterize the Harvest well. As with my contribution this month, such as it is, I understand the evaluation that occurs for life, for the cultivation, and ultimately the harvest. You took a far more complex topic and brought it into line with everyday feelings. I wouldn’t call it light, more simplified. The fruit of our lives is certainly the only measuring stick for our legacy; even if a deity and religion are involved. Those standards are set by the condition of our soul. You have made that very clear in this piece. I recall –doleful nights- but I think in your setting here you refer to thoughts of leaving. Thinking of the –harvest-, particularly if it is found lacking, will cull the thoughts to just such adjudication. I enjoyed the piece very much.	2012-08-03 21:30:04
Pink Blossoms	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, where I live is the flower captitol. There are fields from spring to autumn of flowers grown for sale. On warm days the air is filled with fragrance and bees servicing the blooms. While reading your piece, it put to words the spring and summer of blossoms locally. I have always enjoyed the use of –heather- and your distinction is poignant that all the –pageant- that surrounds us is –unkept- The beauty of it all will do just fine aside from the cultivation of man, or with it. Of winter; I will reserve judgement. She is also a friend of mine. Of taxing – from that springs other images of despicability. Really a fun, warm and true piece.	2012-07-31 12:03:24
The Reality	Mark D. Kilburn	Such a sweet and bittersweet story. Faith has the currency to counter the despair that sometimes accosts us. Your piece recalled to me a book I recently read of a child lost to death who returned. It was called -the boy who came back from heaven- As is all such for the open eyed, it contained fascinating information. Of your loss, I recall your earlier post and enjoin with you in the composition and celebration of the child, and the father. I believe, there is a strength in this piece and you should work the meter a bit. It is an amazing read that would welcome a smoother flow. Of the comparison of your experience long ago and your new sorrow, there is a present flow allowing us to feel with you the impact of your loss. It is both a powerful witness and tribute. Thank you for again sharing a moment of your life and faith with me.	2012-07-31 11:56:07
She Brings (with correction to second line)	Lora Silvey	Lora, you have me coming and going. I have dissected and rebuilt. So, what I will grant you is my notes on the disassembly and reassembly. I find the woman to have travailed in childbirth- given the world her daughters, raised them and they were her joy S2L1. The as autumn comes and presupposes winter (a metaphor for death), the morning also comes but with alterations and harbors both promise and unfulfilled promise. Yet the mornings innocence is clear. S1L1 S4L3. The loss of hope (daughter’s demise) is a character flaw in those tending to the future. S3L2,L4-5 S5L2-3 Wisdom is an learned trait. The Youthful haven’t learned to communicate and therefore the secrets of their soul can only be presumed. S4L1 S3L1. The deity is looked to for guidance and consolation and those looking for such explanations either misinterpret or note that there is no such assistance. S3L4 S4L3 And in your final analysis, there is both blame for those who create the havoc and those who refuse (or cannot) see the truth. S3L4 S6L1-2 I haven’t enough information to attend to a significant occurrence that would spur the piece. Another clue maybe. I will say also in stanza one, the characterization of the woman moving forward in romance is brilliant, as is the subject of her daughters and their affect on her life. I cannot say that I am any farther along in the specific understanding of the piece. I feel that daughters were killed by a drunk driver, or there is a metaphor for children being sent to war. Just not enough. I hope I covered at least some of what you meant.	2012-07-31 11:18:19
and you asked what I want...	Mary J Coffman	This is a wonderfully powerful, passionate piece. Each line jumps out and brings its fecundity to the reader. The reader can feel and absorb, imagine and partake. All at once we wish it to be ourselves, and yet watch the writer, coalescence. You then do something both obscure and screaming to the reader. –all those beautiful lies- and we wonder at lost love, hoped love, or imagined love, or many other dimensions. It is absolutely scrumptious. Those feelings from deep within reach out for validation. Lastly, you take us into the writer, human nature, and hope –that I might feel belief- In your metaphors and analogies, this is a splendid, passionate image.	2012-07-29 11:02:20
Black Diamond	Donna Carter Soles	Donna, first- of you note. Should this poem pass on to the archives of readers- your note will be absent or considered a detriment to a well-constructed poem. I would suggest, no note and change L2 & L4 to add one more clue, or even give the reader a clue in L4- something like example –spry fountains I must fill- to add the dimension of youth into your verse. After such, let the reader figure out their own thoughts on the matter. L5 through L8 my feel is that the devil would rather destroy beauty than nurture life (beauty). It is a great anecdote. I could make a case of the comparison of diamonds and their hues- or for the choice of love, of eyes and hair- where the raven haired is chosen. -Young love- referring once more to L2 through L4 speaks of a passion, not only for love itself, but also for recalling and wishing for the love of the writers youth, and the love of youth itself when seen from an aging premise. There are many aspects to this piece. I hope as you write, in your own personal notes; you keep the story alive for posterity.	2012-07-29 10:51:58
the Gift of Poetry	Ellen K Lewis	So Ellen, we are here to illuminate ourselves; through the eyes of like. Of the intuitions in your theme, the finding –rocks- in this world and polishing them into –gems- the concept is as precise to a poet as any I have read. I am not sure that in light of all of it, personal –sorrows- become –petty- I would counter they are as valuable in the scheme of things as any other rock. That is, unless your point is that those –sorrows- are so overdone that they squeeze out the perspective of living and poetry. You capture the cycles observed and written of, flowers gone and remembered, scents of recall and the emblematic innate beauty of a tree- when really considered. An you counter all of your treatise with the –sow and reap- with the overview that in doing so is watering the poets –rebirth- You have many topics that could each be written into an epic, concise and to the point- from metaphor to analogy. I think, from this piece- being a poet is probably a good thing.	2012-07-29 10:34:54
Anonymously	Mark Steven Scheffer	Indeed. There is a likelihood that family adhesion is more akin to the Stockholm syndrome than merely imbedded bonds of judicious and injudicious experiences. Mix in deistic preferences and personal ties; whether as caretaker to pet or dog to Ivan Pavlov, and we still have the resources and links that establish family, and in due course; society as well. Some may counter that theory due to the apparent incivility among the constituents, but even this site mirrors society more than one might want to imagine. Sure, participation is choice, but those expecting a higher graciousness because of the poet moniker, than is found in society and family, are missing the entire point of the exercise. Of course, I would never be found lacking in such regal associations. No doubt the Jacobus Arminius considered choice and then eventuality, John Calvin eventuality without the choice, in the end it all logically works out the same; whether one knows the outcome or not. As the song says, Whatever will be, will be The future's not ours to see Que sera, sera Of course, I have far more intestinal fortitude than all of that. I’m above it the fray…. Sort of in an eternal now observational apparatus.	2012-07-28 11:34:17
Escaping Night	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, this a very powerful piece. The images are alive and haunting. My favorite -rest your sea colored eyes- is evocative and mating them with -mine of that mimic umber- simply brings the house down. -pacing the ocean’s floor- and the need for the lover, moves as if one really is that -anchorless ship-. And in the end, after taking us into the vision, we share in the -that breathes with you-. There are so many emotive visuals in this piece that it is a bit transcendent. It makes me feel, I want to feel that way- no matter the possibility of torment that might be inherited. S2L2 – and its junction with L3 the only weak point in this amazing piece. Not clear. Wonderful read.	2012-07-24 21:21:47
midnight rumblings	Ellen K Lewis	I know I have gotten into trouble with my friends before, whom having endured tumultuous weather, found my appreciation for the beauty of such to be unsettling. The last two days we have had weather similar to your description. I stand in awe and exultation- and then this morning is your verse. I appreciate your description (for good or bad) and the –caffeine-like- nature of your observations. Your piece sort of drives me to again attempt to capture what occurs around me. For the moment though the –vibrance of the earth- is mollified by reading your fresh reflections. (too many ‘n’s in cannas). Thanks for a moment of vision	2012-04-13 12:27:01
Fine Wine	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, there is a loveliness to the contribution of all to the whole. I believe you capture it well. The sea and the mountains, as opposed in so many ways as such appurtenances of the earth can be- yet contributors. Why most I appreciate of you verse is the simplicity it is written in- that matches the simplicity of the merging of of mountain and sea, sand and rock- Certainly, with weather and other contributors there is a complexity, but in the basic analysis it is all “like fine wine” and we are here for a blink of its machinations.	2012-04-12 22:10:45
My Vote	Mark Steven Scheffer	I enjoy looking into the soul of the other poets. Your list is nothing like mine- but I think that is the whole point of the endeavor. We do have two poems in common. Of course the poetry of yours I selected also will not be in common- which might actually make our commonality a total of 4- could you vote actuals. It is with some regret that I won’t post mine. I don’t carry the cache that you do here and frankly, we are not all here for the same reason. I appreciate your candor but do not believe selections I make will be respected by all readers. Debate is always an enjoyable pastime, derision cuts deeper than I am interested in partaking. I have a lot of fun and respect the writers here; finding much of the poetry meets the variety of desires that draw me to the craft; and for that reason I thank you for your contributions. However it all washes out in the end, I always open your poetry with anticipation.	2012-04-12 22:03:35
all fowl must die	Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.	To be alit, if you will- of fowl or humanity, or heaven or the semblance of heaven- that the unidentifiable responds as the identifiable is as much the mystery as it the resolve. Within your piece there is no real reference to resolve- which I presume makes all a foul. For it is in the resolve, I think that living and dying occurs. The hawk or the hawkish- the fowl may die from one for goodness and another for the vanity of survival. A very introspective piece. It leaves us with little else to do but hope in resolve.	2012-04-07 21:58:10
Taken (in between)	James C. Horak	I appreciate the -the wind- repetitiveness throughout the verse. Of the continuance of like passions- as viewed retrospectively to the formative days; I have much experience and would prefer not to languish in the thought. That love itself is tasked with that task, while life is given a free pass is much the same. The wind, it is analogy at its best. It is not lost within the concept of the verse that many, including myself, will honor the wind in dance; whether that same breeze has brought warmth or calamity.	2012-04-07 21:35:34
My Spirit	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, a wonderful view of self and composition, of courage and fear- darkness and light. Dare is a strong word- it incurs hesitancy and courage. I thought of the “Raven” always a harbinger reference; and harbingers are not only bad, but also good. Speaking that one must write from where one is –must- is the operative word, and in the writing births the hidden founts of dreams and fears. Often time they have hidden for a long time. How poignant, of tempests; both they that confine and also abet the desire. That the secretive creation comes forth, both in a philosophical term and the search for the redemptive power of love, makes this piece stand out. I pined that rhyme might meet its –watery grave- and yet the hope in the creation is to find the correct word and, should it come- the rhyme (mariners or not) to make the masterpiece. A well written verse.	2012-04-07 11:26:05
Injustice	James C. Horak	JCH, if I were to say I liked this piece I would be as so many are. I am more ambigious towards the construction and format. The analogy of the purity of snow and bird shit is an interesting one. I think, it is more that moment that kept me beyond the entirety of the piece. Of scolding or rebuke? I have little to say on the subject. I would like to feign inconsonance towards such thoughts, but I usually believe, for good or bad, justice is what one makes of it. I know there is BAD injustice, but that is not what I refer to, and I believe this piece refers to- such is seldom what life affords- and never in anonymity. Harm is usually harm accepted, I don’t normally allow that acceptance. Sometimes, in my evil way- I find it all too amusing. I critiqued a poem this month, got no reply and a poor score. I found it amusing- not disconcerting. As for somebody being considered a “kittie” well it would not be the first time the harsh judgment of cunt was leveled at me. Here kittie, kittie, kittie. As I said, I’d like to say I really liked this piece, but, well- its not my flotsam peace or litter.	2012-04-02 16:54:51
voting day	Ellen K Lewis	Thank you for sharing with us. I am quite sad about all of the matters you must deal with. The weight probably outdistances the actual difficulties. Of the voting, I know I have often had to circumvent voting difficulties and it is an ongoing problem at times. The vote is the soul of the poet here. I wish it had worked as it should. Once again, the verse was poignant and touching. I wish you well and will keep you in my thoughts.	2012-04-02 16:40:53
JANA BUCK HANKS	Lora Silvey	Thank you Lora for this news. I have fond thoughts of Jana and will certainly visit the pages. I do wish she had posted again- then the moment would have been lead in a copious allusion. Refreshing something special is always a gift worth recieveing. She will be missed.	2012-03-23 12:50:00
The Keep	James C. Horak	On reading your comment- a general comment I assume; and watching the unremarkable bilge that daily recreates itself amongh those with no vision, regards your piece with lights of red. That freedom is at stake is obvious except to those who don’t see it, will never see it, many even after it is gone. That those who have braved life and sacred honor for the standard- then held once again, in unremarkable understanding- honor remains whether recognized or not. Or does it? In the unremarkable the condition of direction and redemption may lie. It is infuriating. A very poignant image.	2012-03-20 10:38:17
Wall decor	Dellena Rovito	Dellena, the image of beauty become false beauty is striking. I feel the piece more strongly because growing up, I had many bug boards- not just for school but because I enjoyed the –picturesque- image of the collection. Truly an inspired metaphor. I wonder what, of your many purposes, this exactly refers to. I could guess but I’ll just take the image of the piece and apply it to a thousand applications where beauty is marginalized by those who believe they still hold beauty as a living item. Many do not see that the freedom of purpose is not the same as the beauty of freedom. That spirit, beauty- they will never own. NOTE: from those of us who have done such things- the bugs were always euthanized with a kill bottle before they were mounted (at least by me and everyone I knew). It doesn’t detract from the meaning, just making up for a little adolescent guilt.	2012-03-19 16:32:32
The Ballad of Jackson G.	Howard D. Palmer	Howard, a striking story that would make a great vignette screen play. You ought to consider writing one. I believe it would sell. The story is unique and the style of your verse very retro-Disney pleasurable. Your rhymes were well done, and I never felt a forced rhyme except for S2L1. Even that often used method didn’t detract from the piece. Were it my piece, I would choose a syllable count, and edit the meter to better roll off the tongue. You have more lines of nine than any other (8,10,12) and probably that would best suit the piece. A little editing and O Henry will have nothing on this piece. Really an enjoyable piece.	2012-03-19 16:24:57
Golden Shears	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, beautifully done. The assonance, should you wish to know its affect, worked well. Also the 8/6 meter worked well for the piece. I found myself imagining, in a retrospective manner- (not retrospective of the piece, but of my life in light of the piece) and realized the metaphor you have penned was more intuitive than seen on the face. The fact that the majority of life (excluding the edges) is not where the imperfections are easily seen. It is on the –hem- the edges that things get out of hand and need –mending- looking at my life in the image of this piece, granted something obscure that might have been missed. You ending of –mortal dress- and –sewn with love- one controllable and one not, accentuated the entire dress sewn with the –rainbow thread that binds- An enjoyable piece to blend with MSS’s Prayer for the poets. Really a home and hearth feel.	2012-03-18 19:24:30
A Precarious Life	Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.	I wrote a piece for my daughter, “An Existential Discourse” that would be very well served with this piece following it. Not so much because of the follow the dots picture you paste, more for the many questions left unanswered, even if the big one is answered. The theme of a Precarious Life is one that causes the existentialist many problems, if it is not addressed correctly, but also the theist if it is not addressed at all. I think you cover it all in your thesis. The nutshell of : I will die still untranscended in some maladjusted, defined psychological state regards what is with what it should be, independent of the path followed. You final stanza address that path, after a fashion- and –loving, merciful, acutely humorous- very much sounds like a well adjusted humanist. Possibly, existentially speaking; we can all find similar resolutions within.	2012-03-14 20:37:40
The Ornamental Poet	James C. Horak	JCH, it is plausible to hope that those issues found compelling should gain top shelf importance- as you proscribe. Of Nero (straightjacket and all) the entertainment value is not parallel to that of the –ornamental poet- as it were. Possibly, there is entertainment associated with both but we know in equivalences of math, there is not the same equivalency in life. A=B, B=C thereby A=C is not the same as –he liked pink- -she doesn’t like blue- therefore –she likes pink- the comparison doesn’t work, as I understand your analogy. However; as always, there is my caveat- I might misread a piece, particularly such a piece as this that is on a grander scale. Of ALARM- there is much of that in the verse we read. Poets, in either case are neither castigated or applauded. Certainly the value of their message is often lauded, but then again, so is the entertainer. The entire subject reminds me of a very old Star Trek (yes I know you all tire of my second hand anecdotes) where Captain Pike and Vina are kept by aliens, they can read minds but not if there is intense hate- so Captain Pike tries to maintain a level of anger- and Vina sees this (she has been captive so much longer) and tells him that she tried that but it is impossible to always keep up the anger and hatred. At least for me, I find an equivalency of purpose. In essence, a valuable piece with the caveat that ALARM=necessary but necessary=fun (Insert, emotional, passionate, sexy, ect..) a lot of times. Just my opinion of course, and as always, I may have missed your point.	2012-03-11 11:21:58
Twisted Sheets	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, this is a piece that were I to know nothing of its meaning, still it would be a repeatable reading for the pleasure of such. The analogy of writing and romance, or loss thereof, is quickening. That the consummation would provide the syntax for the story, although not a new concept, you have written new life into the moment. -used to be ebony night- and – once quenched with caring words- would almost lead one to believe the inspiration for composition is no as –arid- as the lips, and yet, whether with renewal of a fresh love, or the ability to scribe the passions of heartache, the writer finds her way to create once more. –lay hands to ink anew- and of course, since you thrive the analogy throughout- there is the carnal side of such –inking- a wonderful piece of writing.	2012-03-10 19:41:19
My Feb 2012 vote	Mark Andrew Hislop	Very nice- worth the read.	2012-03-08 22:28:41
Fighting Tears	cheyenne smyth	cheyenne, almost disregarding your last stanza, the journey you take us through angles the commonality of relationship, for the good and the bad. There is in this piece, that place that all of us have shared. –when brighter skies return- as is the promise, it still regards those things special lost to the sea of time and past. That regard enriches the moments carried on, because the enrish us. A very specific verse in all particulars. Standing out to me is - Returned faint whispers we had uttered last - Such words we’d murmured into dreamy space; having cherished such I appreciate the return.	2012-03-07 14:28:18
Spell for Retrieving a Lover	Mark Andrew Hislop	MAH, absolutely adored this piece. That the adage, -be careful what you wish for, you might get it- comes devoid of substance. Your piece adds that substance. That the difficulty in retrieving a lost love, and the likelihood that the magic will never be recaptured as remembered, is almost offset by the description and difficulty that will be required to attempt the feat. BEGONE- what a splendid metaphor to encapsulate your entire piece. Well Done.	2012-03-07 14:21:53
Candles Burn Out	DeniMari Z.	Deni, there is so much here to hold the soul to what such images, loss and regret predates. –we’ll breathe sink deep, exhale our sighs- immediately led me to a sudden loneliness and hope that were it to be that moment, somebody would intercept and embrace me. Ghost is an apropos nom de plume. Although one hates the concept of –haunting- when trying to vie for the next moment, those things precious can create an illusion that prevents, while all the while preparing the soul for an adaptive holiness. This is a very touching and enhanced piece. I wonder if it is a good thing that I can find myself, so easily, as its conscript.	2012-03-07 14:04:56
Poem Title	Poet Name	Critique Given by Tony P Spicuglia	Critique Date

Displaying Critiques 151 to 200 out of 835 Total Critiques.
Click one of the following to display the: First 50 ... Next 50 ... Previous 50 ... Last 50 Critiques.

If you would like to view all of Tony P Spicuglia's Poetry just Click Here.

Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!