Lennard J. McIntosh's E-Mail Address: lenjomc@ntl.sympatico.ca

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Poem Title	Poet Name	Critique Given by Lennard J. McIntosh	Critique Date
Lickin' River	Jana Buck Hanks	Re: "Lickin' River" What an engaging tale, well set in three line stanzas. Writer: "in the shadow of my mind. My path becomes a sandy road shaded with overhanging willow trees, weeping along a shallow stream." *** Oh my, but this imagery does lovely things toward evoking peace in themind of an older reader's . Good work! Writer: "to the almost slow motion songs of the birds in high branches." *** The songs of the birds are driven to slow motion, certainly by the heat of the day. It's pure poetry. Thank you for the enjoyable posting. Len McIntosh	2004-08-03 14:08:00
I Am Fred Chapter 1V	marilyn terwilleger	Re: "I Am Fred Chapter 1V" This is a riotous romp in a whimsical rhyme that should bring a smile to everyone. Writer: "She makes me daft in me head, I am Fred, he said." *** I like the way the writer demonstrates a different pathway to rhyming verse - with three occurrences in the same line. Writer: "I'm here beside the shed, where is your suit of red? I said. Me natty nymph wants me in blue instead, he said." *** Here is a fine example of alliteration working with the cadence of each line and, also running into the next. Further, please notice the unique rhyming pattern of "instead," and "said." Should the word "milday" in the third stanza have been "milady?" I enjoy the ceativity and jaunt of the piece. Good work! Len McIntosh	2004-08-02 16:56:37
Impurities are the Weight of Water	Molly Johnson	RE: "Impurities are the Weight of Water" Here is a writer who obviously knows the workings of the pure sport of fishing - trolling in this instance. The exacting details making up the poem go a long way to make the poem; the rhythme and strucure look after the rest. This is excellent work! Len McIntosh	2004-08-01 23:12:53
Trust	Jacob W Roberts	Re: "Trust" The writer "sparked" a blaze in this wrinkled old reader, who lives amid the boreal forests of N.E. Ontario. This has afforded the privilege pointing a canoe to begin a trip more times than I can hope to recall. Hence, the camp fire smoke that lingers on me. :o) This poem's narrator insinctively knows that it was good burning wood, and further realized the importance of a precice kindling. Moreover, the incident was told in a fresh fashion often characteristic of good poetry. Congratulations! Len McIntosh	2004-07-28 15:08:47
The hallway	Mark Andrew Hislop	Re: "The hallway" Writer: "Then those crisp jeans and Italian shoes And hair pulled and gelled tightly back, Black frame of a window into heaven, Brought you, and your paper too." *** While the narrator's heart gyrates, the author of this crisp, well-written love poem is able to reach down to claim extaordinary diction. "Black frame of a window to heaven," must surely be imagery that is about as good as it gets. Writer: "... the bright glare of you, the fluorescence That has lit up the hallways leading To every other moment since." *** I cannot but applaude this writer's skill. This poem is beautiful, it's exceptional work. Len McIntosh	2004-07-27 23:32:08
Water Lilies	Edwin John Krizek	Re: "Water Lilies" Villanelle is one of the more demanding forms, in that concentration is required to not vary from the appropriate structure. Or, to quote Shakespeare: "You gotta be on the ball, man!" Oh well ... Incidentially, I have never committed the form to memory, having to constantly refer to my book of poetry forms when writing villanelle. As I detest nit-picking, I will rely on the writer's adherence to form in this matter. Writer: "Can a camera capture the stillness of the morning air?" *** May I suggest that the author omit "the" and change "of" to "in?" Unless I'm mistaken it may fit the form's third line's rhythme more comfortably. [Which will, of course, also affect lines 3 and 4 of the last stanza as well. Writer: "I listen to my breath, as laughter washes away despair" *** The author might, please, consider altering the above to: "Listen, as my breath laughs to wash away dispair," for the same reason given in the previous paragraph. [The rhyming line is the same as the last lines in stanzas 1 and 6.] I must force myself in offering suggestions to a writer like this, as the work belies a skill, creativity, and experience easily surpassing mine. However, critique is what I'm supposed to do. Len McIntosh	2004-07-23 17:45:09
Worms in the Summer Grass	G. Donald Cribbs	Re: "Worms in the Summer Grass" The narration and symbolism are so sobering. They leave this writer feeling privilged to have read such profound work, but not feeling capable of an adequate comment. The poem itself says it all. One can only wonder at the courage required to author this, whether the writer and narrator are the same or not. I applaude this writer! Len McIntosh	2004-07-21 21:25:49
Another Battlefield	Wayne R. Leach	Re: "Another Battlefield" I appreciate this writer's ability to take huge, unanswerable perplexities facing mankind and reduce them to poetry. He not only reduces them, he notes the futility, hypocracy, etc., that most people miss, take for granted, etc. I believe this to be the true function of a poet, and this writer handles it splendidly. "ah, but where have those paratroopers gone? to another battlefield not of this world?" *** This is abstract writing, however, it's worded in such a way as to point us in the direction of meaningful, symbolism. The writer adds a touch of whimsy to the meaningless loss of life in war, present, past, and future. Exceptional writing. "where mushrooms imitate leprechaun parachutes?" *** The first stanza had the leprechauns imitating mushrooms. The second turns it around completely to skilfully illustate the absolute unpredictability of the violent upheaval that mankind now faces. "to where I stand – not understanding these empty parachutes and wars?" *** The writer doesn't claim to understand the meaning behind the air of violence the world breaths. Nevertheless, be implication he sounds a somber warning; he tells us, "Something Wicked This Way Comes." As readers, are we listening? I so admire this writer's skill and discernment. Len McIntosh	2004-07-21 01:20:22
Our Backyard	Mick Fraser	Re:"Our Backyard" I'm certain this is a symbolistic poem. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to decipher the he intent of the piece. Yet, it's intriguing and has me hooked. The acclaimed Canadian poet, P.K.Page, once said that it isn't necessary that a poem be understood. What is absolutely necessary is that it be enjoyed. And, on this bases "Our Backyard" get a a big thumbs up from this reader. Len McIntosh	2004-07-19 20:27:16
Hanging at Home	Mick Fraser	RE: "Hanging at Home" "not enough effexor in this world to make us all happy" *** Yes, Mick, and if there's anyone who can claim they're completely happy even with effexor, I'd be privleged to meet them. What a far-reaching look at life as it is today from the not-too-often utilized vantage of telling it the way it really is. It is refreshing, as the political, commercial and religious elements governing this mess we call world society, most often suyggest things are going pretty well. But then, I expect they must, since they're the main tools that have placed the world in its present situation. Poets have a away of scrapping away the manure and getting down to hard ground. "Integrity compromised by righteous evil-doers" *** This short phrase supports the point I make above. I chortled roundly at your ending - good for ol' Jim-Bob. An exceptional read,and hard hitting. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Len McIntosh	2004-07-17 15:24:53
FIDDLIN' 1952	Jana Buck Hanks	Re: "FIDDLIN' 1952" Oh my, but how I can relate to what you've written. My family hit the US shortly after 1746, [they lived in the Mohawk Valley in New York] and then to Canada in 1796 for free land, simply "nutsy-coo coo" over that Scots-Irish flavored fiddle music of your poem. I had the privilege of being raised by my Grandfather and in turn knew his dad, and remember him and the Saturday night kitchen parties very well. Although I enjoy a range of music, when I hear the kind of which you've written I simply cannot surpress the whoops and yells that it demands. You have certainly struck a nostalgic cord, writer. And have linked it with a delightful poem. Thank you for posting. Len McIntosh	2004-07-15 23:01:54
Photo of an Unknown Relative	Molly Johnson	Re: "Photo of an Unknown Relative" You have captured an enigmatic frame in nearly everyone's life, writer. [I know that it has happened to me.] Someone, a relative otherwise unknown to us reaches out and effects our attention in a manner that is unique to each individual. Writer, this has to be definitive poetry. Thank you for posting. Len McIntosh	2004-07-14 19:37:33
Crystalline Life Collage	Robert Wyma	Re: "Crystalline Life Collage" Writer, your title fits the work so very well. To continue: "mixed with stinging emotional pain that whips endless strings" *** This is pure poetry. It's imagry that one nearly feels as the whip snaps. Excellent diction. "set as stewards of direction until released by humility and betterment earned in mighty waves of suffering" *** Yes, writer, we certainly do seem to be stewards of our own direction in the early years. But how we earn a humility that in turn makes us the better for it for having faced the inevitable "waves of suffering." You end this excellent piece by refering to "the inner place where one truly lives," that rounds off a remarkably well-written poem tied to a keen perception of life. Thank you for posting! It's an enjoyable read. Len McIntosh	2004-07-13 23:27:56
Wick of Christ	G. Donald Cribbs	Re: "Wick of Christ" Yes, this was truly the "Wick of Christ," for he applied Isaiah's prophcy to himself at Matt. 12: 20. "I was baptized in a Baptist church when I was seven," [Taken from Additional Notes.] It creates a mystery for this reader, who understands that Baptist theology include a scripturally based belief that candidates for baptism must be of the age of understanding, as was Christ Jesus and his early followers, who were not infants or children. [Acts 8: 12] This point is merely an aside for me, for it does not take away from the depth of muse from where this piece originates. "I let him hang from the tree he once watched me climb, sang as the sparrow, whose narrow beak anticipates my soul." This is what I mean by "depth." First, the symbolism that points to the father figure hanging from a tree. Then, the genius of a sparrow's narrow beak anticipating one's soul, grips this reader's understanding to virtually staggers it. It is so good. Congradulations, writer! Len McIntosh	2004-07-08 12:31:25
Dragging Time	sheryl ann minter	Re: "Dragging Time" Oh yes, I hear you, poet. And what a skillful way to use a well-worn phrase, in reverse. I have never thought of capturing the joys of this minute by simply, "Dragging time." This is truly the mind of a poet, splendidly employed. Congratulations! Len McIntosh	2004-07-07 16:07:11
Mother Sea's Recipe (Serves Two)	Joanne M Uppendahl	Re: "Mother Sea's Recipe (Serves Two)" Here is a poetic serving to surely bait the most insensitive literary taste buds. I'm all set to consume what the earth provides - flora and fauna. It is splendid diction - delicious in fact. And, congratulations on the creativity of presenting this peace and wonderment as a meal. I cannot recall ever seeing this before. Good work, dear lady. And welcome back. Len McIntosh	2004-06-26 16:07:39
The Hive	Molly Johnson	Re: "The Hive" This is an astute acknowledgment of the babes of Spring that unfold new life every year. It's bees, birds, deer, and even the fauna takes part. This is well-told, Molly, and in a style pleasant to read. Thank you for posting. Len McIntosh	2004-06-25 11:59:10
The Desert Wind	sheryl ann minter	Re: "The Desert Wind" As I read on I begin to ask, "Who is this lady who pens pure poetry as only one highly skilled may?" The question took me to your biography that confirmed my observation. Please let me give only a few examples of the purity and command of craft that caught my eye: "mountains sprinkled with sprigs of trees," [splendid diction] "dog howls in the wind" [haunting vision] "Stacks of silos scattering barns," [brilliant imagery woven into highly effective alliteration] "Onward bound there is nothing but time and time becomes nothing." [good heavens but this is an arresting line to conclude this outstanding poem] Bravo, milady! I would so like to be able to write on your level. Len McIntosh	2004-06-21 11:19:23
Regret	Edwin John Krizek	Hi EJ! Oh, how can see this lady. As part of a poetic style not possessed by everyone who calls themself a poet [this present company included] you've given the reader just enough information be evocative. I'm sure that I know this lady. Yet, I'm not quite sure who she is: perhaps my mother, an aunt? This is the work of a skilled, experienced poet, sir. Congratulations. Len McInosh	2004-06-19 10:57:47
Cartoons	Karen Ann Jacobs	Hello Karen: A poem of whimsey, in rhyme and rhythm. Well done, milady. A fellow poet, Len McIntosh	2004-06-19 10:44:34
Tree	marilyn terwilleger	Mariyln: You rascal, you've sent me scurrying to the dictionary - I like that. Unless I'm mistaken, (please let me know if I am) this is a fresh, original, rhyme pattern. The long-standing structures of English language poetry has slipped its harness, along with practically every other accepted activity in society(s). I see the practice [in poetry, at least] as creative, adventurous. Moreover, this piece is well-done over-all, and an enjoyable read. A fellow poet, Len McIntosh	2004-06-18 23:36:22
MY BEST	Michael N. Fallis	Re: "MY BEST" The theme of this poem is as noble and timely as it was the early millennum(s) of man's existence. Moreover, I admire the writer's choice of words. Nevertheless, there are a couple of points I would like to address that I do hope may be helpful. "Bare" and "nightmares," strike me as somewhat forced rhyme. Perhaps if the line were re-worded to allow the singular, "nightmare," it would sound better. Incidentially, only about five percent of poetry written today is in rhyme pattern. This gives writers an important decision to make. The vast majority of poetry readers are seeing free verse. This doesn't mean a writer must adhere to the most popular style. It's merely nice to know, as I'm assuming the trend affects reader preferences. Thank you for posting. I enjoy your work. A fellow poet, Len McIntosh	2004-06-16 22:44:45
♥ Moon Dance ♥	Carolyn Gale McGovern-Bowen	Re: "¢¾ Moon Dance ¢¾" Can the magic of the moon ever run dry in the hearts of man and woman? How could that ever be with even one romantic walking the earth? The three line stanzas carry the message well, and intensity of diction is outstanding. Good effort, writer. A fellow poet, Len McIntosh	2004-06-16 22:12:46
On the Character of Climbing Vines	Joanne M Uppendahl	Re: On the Character of Climbing Vines I am at first taken by the form chosen by this author - interesting. Particularly so, is the continuingsentence from 1st to 2nd stanza. Additionally, I enjoy the enjambment selected in the 3rd stanza - presumably, to assist in alternating the rhythme. Writer:"growing heedless, reckless, wildly falling headlong, not accepting caution" LJMc: Oh, I do admire the writer's strength in word choice. Sommerset Maugham once wrote that alongside poets, novelists stand in awe. This writing must surely exemplify Mr. Maugham's generous outpouring. Writer: "you profligately fling your greenness to the birds and wind," LJMc: Were I not to know this writer I expect I would be influenced by what I believe to be a talent and experience beyond my own. This would be to the extent that I would feel it presumptuous to for me to suggest improvement in work's cadence. However, coming to know the individual revealed a magnanimity of chaeracter that has me quite at ease. So, here goes: "you fling prolifigate greeness to the birds and wind." [For the writer's consideration.] I feel that this writing manifests the heart and pen of a poet to suffice Somerset Maugham's approval. A fellow poet, Len McIntosh	2004-06-16 00:36:34
What I Wish For In A Friend	Cathy Hill Cook	Re: "What I Wish For In A Friend" The poem's title also sets its theme: Writer: "I hope you know the gratitude I have by the way you treat me, for all the truth and unconditional love you show" LJMC: The poem's persona confesses deep feelings because of the love showed by the friend. Those feelings extend to pride of the friend as a person and pride of their accomplishments. It is true friendship when one doesn't feel threatened by the other - is proud of how well the other does. Writer: "such a rare treasure and a hard find, to have such a friendship as ours with enough spacing to allow such wisdom and knowledge of individuals of the minds." LJMC: Men and women who've lived many decades know how rare true friendship is to find, and they understand the value of such abstract commodity. There is something the persona didn't mentioned, or, has omitted out of humility. Perhaps even, the writer didn't think of it. That is, to have a friend of such high esteem one invariably must be a friend of equal worth. This is merely a cliche? I beg to suggest not. It is life, the way it works. It is reciposity in action! That is the crafting genius that allows the development of one's character equal to the task of being a special friend. To have that kind of a friend one simple must must BE that kind of a friend. Moreover, this principle is within the poem, if the reader exerts the discernment to see between the lines. Thank you most heartily for a fine, insightful, well-crafted piece of poetry. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-06-06 14:59:18
Ashes	Rick Barnes	Re: "Ashes" Writer: "Nothing holds ashes together, and yet, there they lay." LJMC: Here is a philosophic statement to prime the poetic muse. This is good diction. Indeed,"there they lay." Writer: "One needs to stand in the absence of warmth to grasp degree." LJMC: How very fitting is this statement. Ones does need be beyond the intensity of involvement to truly encompass the significance of a situation.. It allows for clear thought. Writer: "Ashes. Ashes are what we find when the spark has gone" LJMC: Within this last, short stanza the writer alludes to the "spark of love," as the clue to the theme of this finely written work. For we know that without a spark, where is there hope for a fire. Good work,and well-crafted, poetry. Congratulations. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-06-04 20:25:59
The Language of the Angels	Valene L Johnson	Valene: I can't fault this piece. It flows well and the diction is outstanding. This is good poetry. Writer: "why do you not look upon me with lust anymore?" LJMC: I assume this single, long line is an error in posting? Thank you for posting. Lennard McIntosh	2004-06-03 16:38:44
Rainbow Blues	DeniMari Z.	Re: "Rainbow Blues" This work is simply replete in symboism. The esteemed Canadaian poet, P.K.Page, once said,"It isn't always necessary to understand poetry. What is necessary is that it be enjoyed." It reminds us of part of the definition of poetry: arranging words in a beautiful way. I feel the writer has truly achieved this. Wrier: "This rough patch scratches only the surface of life." LJMC: To what is the writer referring? It is clearly something that doesn't pervade life. This reader is eager to know more. Writer: "What's above, underneath and around it is your lucky star to catch and fill up with your dreams." LJMC: Whatever this negative force, it can be overcome. The writer approaches the task with optimism. Writer: "There is no "LIFE" courtesy counter, to approach with a complaint." LJMC: How true, is this assertion. Yet, the poem's persona isn't deterred. At the writer's bidding they intend to make good things happen. Writer: "And your star, lacking in dreams is held in the palm of your hand, while you quietly drift beyond another patch painting black and white rainbows in the sand." LJMC: This reader sees the last stanza a summation of, if we fail to make positive things happen in our lives a bright outlook will not be seen, and happiness will be as unstable as sand blown in the wind. An excellent writing syle isn't by accident. Look at the harmony of sound supporting alliteration:"scratches/surface, courtesy/counter/complaint;" assonance:"life/slide/liking." This rhythme pattern known as cadence is certainly evident in this work. I'm told it even developes manifests itself in writing subconsciously with some poets. An entire interpretation is subjective in this reader's viewpoint. The peice leaves an aura of mystery not unpleasant at all . Particularly since as it's accompanied by a word choice to waltz to the tune of pure poetry. It's a beautiful tune, and pen. Congratulations to the writer. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-29 14:16:58
japanese verse 49 (Eclipse)	Erzahl Leo M. Espino	Re: "japanese verse 49 (Eclipse)" Writer: "Pirate of darkness" LJMc: Imaginative, to say the least. The mind must surely dance in far-off journies to achieve this degree of word selection. [This reader wishes he were stronger in this part of the creative process.] Writer: "Ambushed the moment to steal" LJMc: The moon had no say in this matter. It was a waylay that offered the victim little choice. The writer's creativity comes to the fore again in conceiving the booty to be time. And, the reader can see it, a moment of time stolen from what the moon considers year after year, to be normal. Writer: "The jewel of light" LJMc: Oh, it is indeed a jewel, for without it we would be deprived one of the incomperable gifts of Creation. The writer has demonstrated one of the fascinations of haiku: the ability to design remarkable mental pictures with few words. In the particular case, the few words amount to a strict adherence to the genre's form. Good work! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-28 11:32:24
Seedlings	Nancy Anne Korb	Re: "Seedlings" My Dear Nancy: Please take me very seriously when I tell you that you most certainly do have talent as a poet. Having made that initial point, please do not be at all taken aback when I add that I truly believe almost everyone does. You see, writing (including poetry) is a craft, and a craft is a learned skill. Just as you are training to become a nurse. [I see in your biography.] Do you have the talent to become an nurse. Well, you are jolly-well getting it, are you not? Poetry is just the same, my dear. Also, you mentioned that you are rather shy. Now, here's something that could be significant. For shy people, I do believe, have a matching sensitivity. A sensitive person approaching poetry brings with them a personality trait that fits the art. For warmth of heart, depth of feeling, are qualities that I believe you will find in every successful poet. I see that you have chosen three stanzas of four lines each to be the structure of your poem. It's a good choice. Your rhyme pattern is: aabb. Your word choice in selecting he last word of each line is quite good, Nancy. It indicates a good ear and that's important in poetry. Here is an example of what I mean: " ...beyond space ... /...heaven's own place." Do you have any real talent as a poet? Absolutely, you do milady. Moreover, you have stumbled upon an excellent web site to hone your skills. There are many published poets here at TPL, who you may learn from, my dear, just as I have myself have learned and continue to do so. In the meantime, I'm privileged to welcome you to TPL, Nancy. The place where you can learn much from what others write. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-26 21:08:54
Photograph	Edwin John Krizek	Re: "Photograph" A poet who consistently chooses themes/subjects with universal appeal has taken a big step on the road to acceptance. "Photograph," and the theme surrounding it is an exellent example. Writer: "I stare at the picture. I sought out her image to see how it would look, the way you pick at a scab to see how it feels." LJMc: The first stanza begins the piece with remarkable alliteration to start the consonance flowing: "stare/sought/see/scab/see." The Ss are dancing. It has been this readers experience that good poets accomplish this subconsciously, or that's what a few have told me. Writer: "when my consternated thoughts refused to understand that she no longer wanted to hear from me." LJMc: A poor soul not given to the unwonted depths of hate that spite and revenge reach is often not quick to pick up "those signs." Writer: "of interest only to archivists seeking answers that do not exist." LJMc: This is extraordinary word choice. I cannot imagine this reader ever conceiving "archivists" in this word setting, and yet, it fits so perfectly. Picking that "right" word is a characteristic shared by select poets. That so many share the narrator's experience brings us back to the universal appeal of this selection. Congratulations, writer! A fellow poet, Lennatd McIntosh	2004-05-25 09:44:20
Enchanted Stew	Edwin John Krizek	Re: "Enchanted Stew" The writer describes a life in which the narrator reveals alternating times of love/hate, safe/toxic, misery/happiness, etc. The poem's consonance is outstanding; it comes alive when "spoken." An example is the effect of the intrernal "i" in lines 1 to 3. Check it out: read the lines aloud. The little extras make good poetry. Also, please give attention to both alliteration and assonance found in the repetition of the words, "little, used," and "from." This reader can't believe this happens by accident - this makes poetic sound! Writer: "Come dine with me tonight and taste a meal filled with love." LJMc: The narrator concludes with an invitation to a meal that shares all of the divergencies of life. Yet, seasoned with the never failing spice of "love." I'm sure that pragmatists do their part in adding to the distintions of man. However, the poor souls simply cannot serve meals like this one to which we've been invited. Good work, writer. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-23 21:47:50
Sunday Morning With a Used Car Salesman	Molly Johnson	Re: "Sunday Morning With a Used Car Salesman" This is surely a paradigm of proof that poetry can be successfully written about anything; even unusual subjects. I applaude the author for her creativity in this regard. Writer: "My fingers itch to tuck at the thin strips of his frayed collar." LJMc: The writer is showing the man's personality. It is how the best writers do it. Writer: " ... a daughter turning twelve; she’s embarrassed by his baldness," LJMc: The writer mentions the salemman's daughter being embarrassed by his baldness. Then confesses her own her own similar embarrassment. This reader cannot help but feel irony the the lines. I believe the key lies in the word "bald" having several shades of meaning. One of those shades denotes a lack of scruples; e.g. as in "bald-faced." If this hidden assertion is intended as irony it is outstanding. If it wasn't intended, well, I will simply have to confess it as outstanding reading! Writer: "If we would just let him finance us ... his fine fabric would crackle then ignite." LJMc: The allegory fairly explodes. While the consonance of the piece is aided by a sprinkle of alliteration: "fine/fabric." In all, this is poetry very well written, and by a writer who apparently will never need worry of subject matter. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-21 15:32:11
Upon Making the Acquaintance of Death	Edwin John Krizek	Re: "Upon Making the Acquaintance of Death" This is a remarkable, poetic view of that eventuality with which all know, but few wish to discuss. Writer: "I am the naked musician" LJMc: There is nothing to hide this conspicuous aspect of life, for it arrives whenever it wishes and does what it will with us. Oh, on occasion it allows a second chance but so rarely, it isn't worth a bet. Writer: "a representation of the totality of life." LJMc: How splendidly the writer summarizes death's effect/affect: "the totality of life." Writer: "What, then, do I care if the birds sing or the crocus blooms, or the moon rises?" LJMc: The author has chosen death to narrate his work. And what a fine job death does as narrator. He evokes a contemptible shiver to pass through me. I consider this unusual as it wouldn't have happended as a young man. However, in beginning to count my eighth decade ... / Well, things do begin to look different. Writer: "I am the ultimate reality." LJMc: I believe the writer makes the above statement correctly. Man has no more contol over this event than the wind. It simply cannot be harnessed, or if death is to occur can it be posponed. Writer: "life’s ultimate irony is its end. It is finished. REJOICE!" LJMc: The writer tells it like poets do; like it is! Moreover, death is the greatest irony in life. It has one ponder, if life as we now understand it, is all there is, why does it happen? By accident? In that case, I am writing "by accident," as well? Nevertheless, the writer leaves us with a suggested, positive outlook. The writer's use of alliteration adds to the poem's cadence. E.G., past/present; dream/ of dreams, for the poem speaks very well. This is the work of one well acquanited with our craft. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-19 21:01:15
Condensation	Mark Andrew Hislop	Re: "Condensation" The writer adapts an interesting form to manifest a concrete relationship to the poem's title. Writer: "... finger-fibres that can channel the cosmos ..." LJMc: In the the above poetic flourish, the writer converts one's ability to reproduce words, in what has to be called thoroughly literary; remarkable dexterity with words. Writer: "Gently rinse your eyes in this ink." LJMc: Have no fear writer, for I cannot but rinse my eyes in the gentle words that have hooked me into your bidding. Writer: "Your face, splashed across a mirror." LJMc: Yes, I see it! I've also seen my own face in different washrooms. And, if we linger long enough, we'll see both images pass from exisence in the condensation that takes them. You have turned a common-place experience into a mystic encounter by the intensity of your poem, sir. It's an effort deserving applause. Congratulations! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-19 14:05:23
Brush With Infinity	Regis L Chapman	Re: "Brush With Infinity" This is a work in which the author has seemed to reach for expression beyond the material world, into the metaphysical. Moreover, it is done in a remarkable facility of language. Writer: "Moebius strip unsurpassed" LJMc: The German mathematician, Mobius [1790 - 1868], would be honored in the poetic frame his "strip" is given. In this the writer stretches our learning. Writer: "czar of pride" LJMc: A splendid word choice in what I under to be the cat. When it comes to pride, they couldn't be better described. This is inspite of the constant hair flow. The writer's style would best be read by the educated reader, or those enjoying the challenge of analyzing literature. [I merrily labor in the latter group] Without an education to match the writer's skill alalyzing can be laborious for those who do not necessiarly enjoy it. Herein, lies a word of caution: A writer may miss some readers who do not care to take the time to scrutinize work for love of the language used, its literaty wonder, etc. The choice in this is, of course, the author's. And, must always be recognized as such. The style leaves this reader in awe, Congratulations to the writer! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-17 13:27:47
Beside the Gate	Joanne M Uppendahl	Re: "Beside the Gate" Here is a "no place like home" theme much older than The Wizard of Oz, and yet, as fresh as our next meal, or the certainty of a smiling face. It is presented in four quatrains [excepting the 3rd stanza of seven lines], and in a cadence pleasing to the ear. Writer: "Home is all the truth I know" Len: As the first line of the first and last stanzas, the above phrase becomes a refrain. In shorter works it doesn't stand out as clearly, however, it's visible and does a good job of supporting the theme. It's a good choice of one of the many techniques available to propduce strong writing style. Writer: "the steaming cup warms my fingers, and books stand by in somber readiness." Len: The hot beverage, and food for the soul constitutes home as the one real, meaningful facet of many individuals. This isn't particularly nice, but the writer drives home the point, with a skillful use of allegory. [cup; books.] Writer: "Seasons grow about this house, like ivy blanketing an old tree." Len: My word, this is rich simile. It also connotes the picture of love, secuity, in the ivy's embrace of the tree. [home] Writer: "beside the gate, a radiant angel waits." Len: This coup de grace of the narrator's argument comes at the end: an angel to insures the security for which so many yearn. This work is impressive , right down to its title. Just look at the internal assonance: "place/gate/waits." These combinations create a euphany not managable by run-of-the-mill poets. It takes knowledge of the craft and the skill to put it to work. Congratulations to the writer. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-13 23:02:43
Blending of the Heart	Debbie Spicer	Re: "Blending of the Heart" Writer: "Love is an exposure of the heart" LJMc: What an engaging poetic with which to begin the "Blending" of this piece. And the implied metaphore of film, [it's the image this reader receives] makes the point spendidly. Writer: "compassion sits holding hands with care." LJMc: Comparsion and care are intrinsic to love, writer, and you've connected them beautifully. Writer: "Cyclic exact as nature in motion similar to the ocean’s ebb and flow." LJMc: Your argument is pursuasive, yet what is remarkable is the poetic manner in which you present them. Excellent work! Writer: "Love is the flower fragrant and sweet yet the passing of its innocent beauty too." LJMc: Oh my, such tender words, placed in a way that cannot but capture the attention of a sensitive soul. Writer, after doing such a fine job on the content, style; an impressive display of alliteration, e.g. "holding/hands; flower/fragrant; shaking/sorrow;" and the striking assonance, e.g."inspiration/intuition/illumination;" you then take on the quatrain form in abab rhyme pattern. What else are you going to do? This reader will most certainly be watching for Part 2 to see. Congratulations! A fellow poet, Lennard J. McIntosh	2004-05-12 20:19:46
Morning	Mark Andrew Hislop	Mark: Some years ago, back when Moses was a pup, an older fellow told me that facing the grind of each and every day was a toil that could be comprehended fully, only by experience. Your poem has brought the statement to mind. The well is far deeper than than first glance implies, sir. Mark:("Double!") Len: The use of parenthesis in your poetry has me doing it. (I'm not kidding!) At least when you use it, it has the reader pondering what you've left unsaid. In poetry, that is one of the goals to be achieved, is it not? Mark: "some ... lurch early to peck their imperatives." Len: This is great stuff. " ... pecking their imperatives ...?" Well, it at least appears to give attenion to the priories, ol' sock. And to think, the time I've wasted merely "scratching my probables." Take another stab in the morning, mate. But in the meantime keep the poetry coming; this one is a real chuckle, well written, in form and title. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-11 16:20:41
Can I Be Jewish Too?	Paul R Lindenmeyer	Hello Paul: What a remarkable poem. The content has one draw the conclusion that its writer is a spiritually inclined person. I have the task of assessing this interesting work, and it must be done on the basis of how I perceive it. Paul: "Hear O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One." Len: This is a well-known quote which along with other scriptural support, counters the Trinity doctrine. The publication, "The Doctrine of the Trinity, Christianity's Self-Inflicted Wound," by Anthony F. Buzzard and Charles F. Hunting, published by The International Scholar's Publications, presents an interesting slant on the long-debated subject and is based on both Hebrew and Greek text. [Buzzard was a theological professor at Atlanta Bible College, at the time of the book's publication.] I mention the foregoing making certain the writer is aware that a number of other's, Christian and non-Christian, believe that Yaweh is One God and Christ Jesus is not God but the son of God, and not equal to his father. Paul: "Still, my Lord was Jewish too... " Len: Apparently the writer has no problem identifying with "A Jew!" There is more evidence that a man named Jesus, a Jewish carpenter, walked this earth talking about his father's Kingdom and preforming extraordinary works, some two thousand years ago, than there is to support some historical, secular figures never doubted. My last critique was written by a writer of courage, also. The writer here speaks of his "Lord," who is not a popular subject in an increasingly secular society. I applaude and admire his mind set, for it does take backbone. The title injected a measure of humor to my perspective that had me immediately wanting to read more. The form selected did the job, well. A minor aside may be, the writer's use of the ellipsis. The Gregg Reference Manual, 274, along with other fine publication on writing style, may be helpful to review. I mention this minor point in a splendid work merely because poetry is more often read by academics [myself excluded] who are well up on the rules of grammar and style and expect to not be detracted by variations. You have a subject to entice this aging student of history, and it is well-done. Thank you. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-07 15:17:47
Iraq in April	Mark Andrew Hislop	Oh my, if I am reading the remarkable allegory in this selection correctly the symbolism is virtually soaked in a sarcasm that points to the current war. [and perhaps all those previous, that have been fought in the name of false gods, mammon, greed, pride, etc. Mark: “Kill the saviour. He came in war to bring us peace, God love him.” Len: Here is the first metaphor that parallels the saviors of Iraq with the Messiah, who “came in war to bring peace.” The only hitch is that the Messiah certainly did not come in war to bring peace; he came in peace to bring an everlasting peace. These events are recorded, and were prophesied. [Isaiah 9: 6; Daniel 12: 1; Daniel 2: 44; Luke 1: 8-14; John 8: 36] Why, the real Savior [the Messiah] wouldn’t even take part in the politics of his day, but chose to look ahead to his Father’s Kingdom. [John 6: 14, 15; Matthew 6: 10] Mark: “… you Judas Are only God’s handmaiden. If that.” Len: Judas Iscariot, histories’ pre-eminent traitor, has found a parallel in this moral thrashing of self-appointed savior(s). These saviors have even been known to quote scripture to support their arguments. [to their own satisfaction] However, the writer creates a doubt in their assessment, “If that.” Mark: “God Is. Great if you can stomach The body bags that drag This truth home to your hearth. Great if you cannot.” Len: Good night, Jeeves, this is heavy stuff! [Opps! The Queen’s English just caught hell] The writer rubs hypocritical noses in what men are doing in the name of god (?). [both sides] I am honored to be associated with a craft that can, and often does, tell it like it is. It takes courage to do this. It is courage I find often wanting in myself, but apparently not in you, sir. Congratulations! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-05 13:22:08
Rain	Valene L Johnson	Hello Valene: I continue intrigued by the imagery that some writers can jam-pack in the few syllables of Japanese verse. I hope I am correct in venturing that the author has chosen a variation of the traditional haiku form, that consists of seventeen syllables in three lines; the first and third of five syllables and seven in the second. This selection consists of a mere eleven syllables rather than the traditional seventeen, which actually constitutes an greater challenge. Yet, the writer's hand is not in the least short of imagery. This surely requires no small ammount of consentration. Congratulations, Valene! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-04 16:58:06
Demon	Mark Andrew Hislop	Hello Mark: The content saturates the boundies of life, as we most know it. The writer acknowlegdes this, and may well be successful in making the reader who believes in the existence of demons shudder. Mark: "Like a trance, I whirl my dervish Heart, barren, barren of passion ..." Len: The word choice equals the poem's setting, splendidly. Mark: "Sense my senseless soul and save me From the callous power of my frailty." Len: The writer here confesses the helpless state of flesh and blood in the face of evil that simply overwhelms a frail man. Mark: "And set me, God, O set me right And forgive these awful stars that I embrace." Len: I've heard of situations where individuals drawn to the world of occult by curiousity, or whatever other reason, are trapped in a black prism, unable to escape. What a unique subject for a poem. Among much more you've shown the versatility of the poem. Congratulations! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-05-03 21:37:51
organ-i	Regis L Chapman	Hello Regis: I'm allured by this piece. Perhaps it's the unaffected form; possibly the arcane imagery. Whatever it is it hooks this reader into wanting to delve, investigating, know more. Regis: "to not vie for your attention and in clarion intention ..." Len: The narrator's approach leaves suspicion behind; it's honest, on the table. Regis: "can I come to you organically as a breeze blowing through hair ..." Len: What exceptional allegory! I wish I'd written it. Regis: "...as the water washes clean fault and carries away tears salt as the green grass reaches for the feet like Achilles the hero ..." Len: The quality of your imagery carries forward. [I must ask if you intended, "tears salt," and make certain it isn't transposed?] Regis: "...can I lift you up in my gravitas ..." Len: Excellent use of the vocabulary, languaqge to conserve words. Moreover, you continue to have my attention in the questions demanding answer in your conclusion. Good work, sir, including the title. A fellow poet, Lennard	2004-05-03 20:45:10
Gone Daddy Gone	Regis L Chapman	Hello Regis: The form chosen is of particular interest: four stanzas of three line each, with a rhyme sequence not often seen. The writer addresses a situation hidden to the reader. This is a style that has been used splendidly by certain poets, e.g. Robert Lowell. It is recognized that the reader need not comprehend the meaning of a poem. However, it is absolutely necessary that the poem be enjoyed. In that, the writer was successful, for this reader was hooked in the charm of the work’s ambiguity. It is a nice job, sir. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-04-30 23:41:32
Down to the river	Mark Andrew Hislop	Hello Mark: Your poem virtually oozes allegory in a manner that crafts mystery. Yet, mystery distinguishable enough to have this reader reasonably certain he recognizes its meaning, though, not entirely secure in that understanding. Herein, lies what I consider an exceptional work. In Hamlet, man’s mortality that was symbolized by Yorick’s skull. It was not understood on the initial readings. Yet, the inscrutability of Shakespeare’s work encompasses a fascination hardly equaled. Mark: A sacred wish to leave all things behind. Len: There is no mystery about how the narrator [the father] describes their feeling to get away – so intense he calls it sacred. Mark: …we are, unknowing, wise, we spores, Waiting on a wind to fling us Len: My goodness, this is a poignant assessment of man on this earth; we really know so little, yet we take pleasure in our wisdom, while in fact, we’re spores thrown about by the winds of circumstance. And this forms a curiosity to demand reader concentration. Are they on an actual canoe or sailing trip, camped [and cramped] among many others, who apparently show little inclination toward friendliness? I don’t really know. However, you craft exhilaration in me from my supposition. This is excellent styling! Mark: Should I choose the air that cleans the stars, Or the light that makes diamonds of the sand, Or the chill waters my son and daughter baptise me in, Len: I have read that the best in nearly every field most often walk in doubt. Parents are among those who work in diligence, yet can only proceed in hope. With the exception of the one who sees fault in all but himself or herself. Len: I checked your spelling of “baptise,” to find that Webster considers it acceptable, though not preferred. Might I suggest that you check it, also? I’ve bee wrong before. :o) This is powerful writing, Mark. Congratulations, sir! A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-04-30 13:42:35
Rock a Bide Woman	Lynda G Smith	(((((Pound)))))	2004-04-28 16:11:11
The world is wet.	Jane A Day	Hello Jane: How interesting! The first stanza presents a somewhat surreal picture. While the second gives the explanation of how this picture came to be. This style of writing is not to be seen among beginner poets, milady. It belies experience in the craft. J: "neighbors checking their windows for the seep, for the glimmer Of drops against the panes." L: I cannot help receive the impression that neighbors monitoring their windows more than usual on "wet" nights. I feel that in this the narrator is toying with the reader in a playful, tongue in cheek manner. Then, brings us back to the reality of dreamland is an excelling conclusion, which in my humble opinion, places this piece in the rank of "outstanding." A tip of the hat, Jane, and my congratulations. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-04-27 23:47:54
Night Moves	Lynda G Smith	Hello Lynda: This is good; it's delightful in word selection, the living symbolism, form, and it's brevity. I like the way you've capitalized the first and last words. You substituted punctuation with a creative form that did the job nicely. eg. "divisible" You wanted a noticable pause and achieved it in the new line. Also, you show a creativity in finalizing the piece with a period, in spight of no previous punctuation. I like that, as good poets as not afraid to break the rules. For me to assess negativity to this work would be misusing "the critique." A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-04-27 10:53:36
"Hill's By The Sea"	Cathy Hill Cook	Hello Cathy: Thank you for posting this lovely piece. C: "Our family is so drawn to the majestic moments at the Heavenly Sea, God’s first days of creation where the Heavens and Sea came to be." L: The narrator has such love for the families bit of land by the sea that it is metaphorically presented as being brought about with the first days of creation. Very nice! The content of your poem is simply beautiful. "Twinkling stars, grains of sand, and, waves dressed in transparent white." The wording is ethereal and very impressive. Since I am one of those old fashioned "fools," who believes it ridiculous to suggest that what exists results from a huge bang, it is particularly touching. [Although, when someone writes about evolution,I read it objectively. It's just that it can't touch my heart, as I see it as fiction.] I congratulate you for the accomplishnment, and thank you for the warm experience, milady. Cathy, I lost the rhyme pattern for a few lines after "falls/walls," and picked it up again with, "Crown/Gown." If you intended this, all is well, if not you may want to look at it. Thank you for posting this fine work. A fellow poet, Lennard McIntosh	2004-04-26 22:14:52
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