Mark Steven Scheffer's E-Mail Address: msscheffer@mac.com
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Below you will see ALL of the Critiques that Mark Steven Scheffer has given on The Poetic Link.
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Poem Title	Poet Name	Critique Given by Mark Steven Scheffer	Critique Date
Life	Stephanie Corrine Mueller	Stephanie, I thought the couplets worked well with the despair here. Gave the sense of being locked in. Mark	2004-06-17 00:03:54
Electron Self	Carolyn Gale McGovern-Bowen	Welcome. Keep 'em coming. A good read. I got the short down . . . maybe catch you with some pithy next time.	2004-06-17 00:02:50
Phaedrus Throws Stones	G. Donald Cribbs	Don, I think i get your point, but i'd quibble with the way it's put. I mean, "the idea that it is what you get out of the 'journey' rather than actually reaching your destination." Yeah, the journey is very, very important - you don't get to the destination without it. But the way you phrase it, it seems it allows a mulitplicity of different destinations, as if the destination were irrelevant. But I don't want to get into a philosophical or theological discussion on the poem. If you weren't a fellow Christian, i wouldn't have even mentioned it. I haven't read that book, so I can't appreciate the allusion. Gosh, i love that metaphor of the stones "laying down prostrate" before the sky. Even with their murderous intent, they aren't in control - there is something which overlooks even their destruction, something to which they prostrate themselves (albeit unknowingly), wonderfully concretized in the "gentle sky" that kisses Stephen to paradise. Grand, grand poem. One of the best i've read here, if not the. At least, I can't remember another that rivals it at the moment. Mark	2004-06-10 10:59:59
Gambling on Mermaids	Thomas Edward Wright	Poet, This has a faint whiff of a poem i've seen before, and a place i've been. I was there a few years after you. I see it smelt the same when you were there. I'd like to know why, when this poem has apparently yet to receive a critique, i only get 2 points for critiquing it. There is a ghost in this machine. Without doubt. The mystici decoder is making the strangest sounds, as if we were on the verge of the Apocalypse. I will pull the plug, again . . . but the thing has a mind of its own. I envy you your bond with your boyhood chum. You shall catch a great fish, together, one day. Does this qualify as a critique? Critiquer	2004-06-08 13:00:21
The Color of Harmony	Mell W. Morris	Mell, This poem was evenly good throughout. Some peaks here and there, but the whole was a formidable ridge. Hannibal and his elephants would have trouble moving over this. That is meant as a compliment. Hannibal was not the friend of poetry. He would meet a word like "tines" with a fearful stomping. You say, "the shadow cast more interesting than it's source." I could not imagine a more awful feeling for a source. It's good to see you coming out of the low notes. Mark	2004-06-01 12:04:34
Balanced Accounts	Mell W. Morris	Mell, And not "pizzicati with Hosanna." Clearly not, at this moment. Your graces "annealed." Great verb, great. I found the poem uneven. The last stanza is superb. Fuller explanation avoids me. As if our conjunction would set back the cause of letters. I am but meager in my munitions. Peace, Marcus	2004-06-01 11:52:27
To my unborn mother	Mark Andrew Hislop	MAH, Wow. Unborn mother. Virgin. Swaddling clouts. The "unborn," though not strictly speaking apt, plays into the allusions that I think you play on, the Virgin birth, the child in the manger, etc. To say "unborn" mother is so loaded. I've heard of being born again, but not being unborn. :) Great idea, great metaphor. Though you use it also in the quasi-literal sense of not born yet, as if you haven't yet met this mother. I do not see the "rules" broke here, at least not technical, prosodical rules. A foolish law-abider, MSS	2004-05-21 11:27:57
untitled - from Nov 2003	Cara-Mae D. Hackett	Cara-Mae, I was going to say that this passionate utterance was not directed at my current or former Catholic associates, who, if they are legitimately Catholic, do not, and never did, "deny[]the sins." Life is a journey in penance for those who fall short of the immaculate, i.e. all but Christ and His Mother. But I'd imagine that your definition of sin is different from the traditional definition of the Church, and that my living and dead relatives come within your censure. Lots of live language here; lots of good stuff. To judge a poem on it's apparent message, and i say apparent because i'm wrong more often than not, shows an inferior aesthetic disposition. I try to avoid that fault, though, of course, i comment on the message, since commentary on the message is the resort of those who, like me, only have at best an intuitive judgment on literary merit. My judgment is this is a worthy poem that has virtues in its use of language that make it worthy of being written, and read. Thank you. Mark	2004-05-21 11:14:24
The Defining Moment	Thomas Edward Wright	Funny. The stars are wierdly aligned. I post. MAH posts. You post. The Triple Alliance. Coincidence? Tomorrow will tell. The poem was quite Mell-like. You play poetry like a game of pool. This one was a bank in the corner pocket. Pass the chalk.	2004-05-18 22:39:48
Apology to my readers	Mark Andrew Hislop	MAH, As to the e-mail, I liked the first version better. I think. I must go back and check. As to the best thing you've done, maybe. If i ever remove the fence from my ass, i'll give you a more definitive opinion. Have you been a bad boy again? Three Hundred Hail Marys. Then . . . shut up - even in print - for one month. You may write poetry and submit it, however. And enjoy a nice glass of wine. And a smoke. But you must abstain from sex. Imagine you're a priest. Well, imagine you're a priest in 1956. Good luck. Armpit	2004-05-18 21:59:18
The Scar the Wing Leaves	G. Donald Cribbs	Don, Consummate, as I'd expect from you. You write like a professional artisan, a journeyman who has been at his craft for awhile. You could shoe my horse anytime - or read me a poem or two, if you're so inclined. Specific critique? I despise that route, not knowing enough about poetry to cram such a critique in the time i have to do it. I also despise rating responses to my poem. Shit, any comment at all gets a 10 from me, and deservedly so. No reader deserves to be pulled down by a grade. I'm not trying to influence you. :) The poem did not grab me emotionally. The consummate craftsmanhip grabbed the brain, though. Mark	2004-05-12 16:27:46
The Scar the Wing Leaves	G. Donald Cribbs	Don, Consummate, as I'd expect from you. You write like a professional artisan, a journeyman who has been at his craft for awhile. You could shoe my horse anytime - or read me a poem or two, if you're so inclined. Specific critique? I despise that route, not knowing enough about poetry to cram such a critique in the time i have to do it. I also despise rating responses to my poem. Shit, any comment at all gets a 10 from me, and deservedly so. No reader deserves to be pulled down by a grade. I'm not trying to influence you. The poem did not grab me emotionally. The consummate craftsmanhip grabbed the brain, though. Mark	2004-05-12 16:27:46
Demon	Mark Andrew Hislop	MAH, I should have read this in bed. I wanted to pull the covers over my head. I think i recognize this terrain. The forked road from Eden's gate. The geography may vary fork to fork, but the same turkey's being carved. That's one view. The other is . . . well, you know, you got God in there. I almost thought i was looking into a poetic mirror. This is not up to the other recent one. Sorry. But then again, maybe there's something subtle here regarding syllable count or something technical going on, which is beyond me. I'm not very subtle. :) MSS	2004-04-30 16:33:33
Blue Dragonfly - Revisited	Joanne M Uppendahl	Joanne, You know, i don't critique many of your poems because our approaches to poetry are so different, and i don't feel i can appreciate your poems sufficiently to comment. You're an observer, a painting of portraits of what you see around you, animals, insects, the stars, etc. I think that springs from your very considerate nature, and your joy at the world around you. I'm a poet of a different order. Anyway, I CAN appreciate your skill and talent in painting these portraits, and i like this one quite a bit, particularly "sparkling adornment" and "splendor hunger." Best, Mark	2004-04-30 12:15:56
Down to the river	Mark Andrew Hislop	MAH, Another occasional catastrophe! I wrote a really, really profound (I swear) critque of this which was wiped out upon hitting the button to submit. It went something like, "it is no coincidence i left off reading Coleridge, Wordsworth, et al on my commutious train ride this morning to see this gem from their 21st Century offspring, another big, fat Romantic traipsing off into the egotistical sublime." And they i went into the most elaborate, line-by-line elaboration, which I will not swear to. But . . . such is fate. Sufficeth it to say, I love the piece. My indolence and intellectual short-windedness prevents a further explication. This is grand, or i'm obtuse. But I am also open to the possiblity that both adjectives fit their respective subjects. MSS	2004-04-30 10:44:26
The waking tide	Mark Andrew Hislop	Mark, I'd say we're both Romantics, with the capital R. Big, fat egotists you and I. I think the esteemed Harold Bloom, that great defender of Romanticism, would love our psyches, if not our poetry. :) I'd also say we pursue the same kind of "music." Simplicity, but wrapped up in Elizabethan fur. Anyway, as to the first stanza. Some nice music there, but i don't like "augury." I'd like to attach an adjective there to "freshen" it up a bit, like take that "bright" from the preceding line. God forbid what the current Gods of poetry would pronounce as to the insertion of an ADDITIONAL adjective. But you know what they can do, with their neat rules of order. Love the Elizabethan music of "countless eyes of night / From earth's modest breasts." I've noticed you're signing off your critiques "with love" or whatever. Are you gonna leave this rat alone in the bottom of the barrel? Mark	2004-04-22 13:48:32
Ted	Mark Andrew Hislop	Mark Andrew, See my prior critique. I think that was the first one on one of your poems too. Ridiculous. Welcome to the Link. Didn't anyone tell you poetry is a game? You're taking this much too serious, Markie. Mark Steven	2004-04-18 01:18:22
Gone	Mark Andrew Hislop	Mark Andrew, Your consistently good metaphors are only walking out to sea here. And your lyricism. Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle. I remember your bile, and will probably get a Fing 1 for this critique. No matter. I admire your poetry, and am glad you are submitting here. Mark Steven	2004-04-18 01:16:19
At The Full Of The Moon	Marcia McCaslin	Marcia, Another winner. An inclination for metaphor; a sixth sense for rhythm and the tonal changes that keep a poem moving and alive; and, the untaught sense that poems are inverted pyramids balanced upon that little point of the last line . . . You got it, girl. Mark	2004-04-09 01:44:43
Changing With The Changes	Marcia McCaslin	Marcia, Wow. Beautiful. Mark	2004-04-09 01:22:48
Swimming With Mary	Thomas Edward Wright	Ho, Just writing to see if you're still awake. I've seen this before. Has an uneven quality about it, like a life. This poem moves toward a parking spot that is reserved for only the VIPs. But somehow it doesn't quite get there. Even "moving" toward is remarkable. I don't know if anyone around here could park this thing, so . . . i give you a lot of credit. The Noxious One	2004-03-28 01:35:05
Israel	Marcia McCaslin	Marcia, Now, Marcia, what kind of extreme Biblicist are you? (smile) I disagree with your theology, or what i gather from it. But I shouldn't say that, since you are speaking poetically, not theologicially. I'm fond of, and support, Isreal myself, and could understand your alluding to those lines from Genesis on a poem about Isreal. Having said that, i say this: Galatians 3:16 Now to Abraham and his seed were the promises made. He saith not, And to seeds, as of many, but as of one, And to thy seed, which is Christ. So I don't agree with your "interpretation." But I like the poem, which is very well wrought, particularly with the mathematical allusions. I love, "the sun searches every shadow until it finds a particle of itself." And, again, while I don't agree with the theological interpretation, I do agree with the general tone of respect and admiration for Isreal and its people, who will i trust be our allies to the death in the war against the Muslim hordes. The western half of Christendom doesn't quite have the memory of Muslim hordes that the Eastern half does - too bad. That's not very pc, but i could give a rat's ass for being pc. I've been told that i'm delusional with regard to Isreal. Well, i'd rather be delusionally alive then have my non-delusional throat slit under a non-delusional crescent moon. I think the Islamofascists would take New York in 2004 like they took Constantinople in the 15th century. I don't fancy being "burned" as a "heretic," and say, yes, G-d bless Isreal, and us in the trying times ahead. You don't pull your punches. Good for you. I'd like having you at my back in a brawl. Mark	2004-03-26 00:29:34
Search and Seizure in the Ache of Day	Rachel F. Spinoza	Roni, Really, really wonderful poem with all the trademarks i've come to expect from you: exquisite phrasing, delightful imagery, and so much imagination - another landscape, emotion, moment transformed. For some reason i keep reading "Ache" as "Ach," and that German word keeps going off in my head. And I don't know German. Well, you have my Numero Uno for the month. But I have as much "weight" as a mendicant on Market Street. Love this one, Mark	2004-03-18 11:36:11
Mis	Regis L Chapman	Reeg, Keep writing out your experiences. Eventually, when you have become more saturated in poetry and your technical skill and craft becomes more subtle and surer, you will be turning out breathtaking stuff. The heart, the fire that moves the pen can't be taught. The rest can. Keep reading and writing. Looking forward to witnessing your development. Mark	2004-03-17 00:43:10
A Late Afternoon Service	Thomas Edward Wright	Tom, A pivotal poem, transitional. A watermark i'll likely remember. And i will say more than just . . . hey, i knew that guy. I will have been there, THERE. Here. At this moment in time. Mark	2004-02-15 00:48:48
The Pixilated Puppet	Robert L Tremblay	Bob, I'm usually frank - though only indirectly so when i'm clowning around. No clowning here. I'm usually not too fond of your poetry. A lot of . . . discourse. Too much statement. But i do like your "designs." This one was really good. Artistic. I could see hanging it on my wall. Which, for many of our fellow denizens, would probably just confirm what they suspected of my state of mind. Really nice (pictoral) image. Mark	2004-02-04 15:46:43
Watermarks	Mell W. Morris	Mell, Fantastic poem. You do know i'm terse, right? Mark	2004-02-03 18:48:43
These delicious aromas like foreign countries	hj elliot	heather, wonderful. you stoked my imagination. gave me some lift. there is nothing nobler that can be done. in the intellectual realm. you blew open the gate of my little hut with your expansive metaphor. and what a fresh wind it is i feel. kudos, mark	2004-02-03 13:49:28
Since god left Chicago	hj elliot	heather, interesting title, and nice new voice i hear. welcome. i'm looking forward to your work. we need more poets here who don't write as if they were making a state of the union address . . . about the state of our, their, his, her, mother's, father's, son's, daughter's - union. not that topical issues should be avoided; i don't avoid them. i'm talking manner, style. a word of warning to you. keep your expectations down. you may likely find a poetic mate for life here. but the rest of the crowd at this party will avoid you because you don't give them platform poetry, but rather (it appears) look to record experience in suggestive imagery and . . . titles. which is all we can do, really. the core of the universe is a roil of vapors and mystery that is, indeed, God, but a God who is found of hiding and (how dare he) poetry. not the platform kind. not that there isn't a message there - but the message must be experienced imaginatively. and not talked about from the stump, like universal healthcare. hope i haven't scared you off, as i look forward to more from you. mark	2004-02-03 13:45:15
Freedom	Robert L Tremblay	Bobbie T., Ahhh . . . the stuff of best vintage. And i was wondering what you were writing 20 years ago. Grapes from the same field. Over the hill from the grapes of wrath. With a taste of love and gentle kindness. Query: can one (you) get drunk from this stuff? Mark	2004-01-30 11:41:52
beep-beep	Thomas Edward Wright	Ho, O ribald wit! What dic- tion! What spacing - your X chromosomes opened their legs in this poem a bit. Being in the mood to quote cummings, "i salute thee" Nox	2004-01-21 14:53:09
untitled	Rachel F. Spinoza	Hi Rachel. Is this a hiaku? I love "green oranges." I mean, the phrase. Probably the best of the haiku (?) i've seen around here. But what kind of an expert could i be if i don't even know what makes a hiaku? But i suspect that even those who know would love this one. Mark	2004-01-16 11:43:51
Blue	Jane A Day	Jane, I was rocking with the rhythme, the original phrasing, "baptismal blue," "bruising from the inside," and the generally deft cobbling of the language - love these lines, to pick my favorites "Earthy blue under eyelash smudge and vein, tired hand, and pressing thumb." (really love the "eyelash smudge" - which somehow seems (ridiculously) original -how'd you do that?" and the pacing and tactility of the second line) -when i got hit with that last line, like some verse from a early 19th century Romantic Poetry periodical or something. This inveterate Romantic in my poetic sensibilities would hate to criticize such a line, but i think i have to. It just introduced a tone and poetic that didn't fit with the preceding. Glad you still submit here. We do have some candles for the midnight. Mark	2004-01-15 11:55:47
The Apostrophe: Enos at the Bacchanalia in Cozumel	Thomas Edward Wright	Ho, Having been mentioned by the "literati"? You is the literati. There is something here referrencing the current scene. I shall hazard and stick my head out of my cave, now that there's a banner to rally under. Or look at. I hope the team is wearing red. I like red. Nox	2004-01-14 11:02:34
Saluting Robert Creeley	Mell W. Morris	Mell, Excellent. I'd have mad the river treasure and the raindrops persist. Very wise and poetically put with "To find emptiness / is to fill it, even / his words with aching / holes. " I don't know about the "Merely." Seems kinda off to me. First, it sounds pejorative. Of course, the tone COULD be ironic, but the "like / Noah's dove" would mean merely without irony to me. A dove is a merely a dovel; a poet, particularly one like this guy, evidently (I don't know his work), is not a "merely." I guess you're saying he carries the olive branch like Noah's dove after the flood, which is not a "merely" act. I get that. In that context maybe the "merely" can be viewed ironically. Forgive me for thinking out loud, but maybe there's a value you can glean from this blubberer thinking out loud on your poem. My fav of the month. No, wait, Tom's poem about preservation of memories is that. This one is very close. Two gems. Mark	2003-12-12 11:51:42
Thistle in the Wind	Mell W. Morris	Mell, THIS is the one. A jewel. I love this poem! One for the TPL Hall of Fame. Mark	2003-12-11 14:32:32
Establishing Vocabulary	Mell W. Morris	Mell, Strange, but among all the lush flora like "Nascent, incipient man" the line that really grabs me is the one, "the sun / sinks to think and to fathom." The rhythm of that, the meter, is what is so nice: the initial heavy stress of a spondee ("sun sinks") as if the sun was having heavy going just above the horizin and then, once it begins the dip below, it accelerates ("to think and to fathom"), with that whatyoumecallit, that anapest (?) just before the final, unstressed syllable in "fathom" - the falling off. And then there's the idea of the sun thinking. Man, that opens the universe up, a bit, doesn't it? That thought has brought the world alive to my imagination this afternoon. Thank you. And how could this KJV loving, damnable Christian do anything but love that "Lord of tongues"? The same damnable one likes the reminder of Jacob's ladder in "utmost / rung" too. Your Heaney poem is one of the treasures here. This one seemed a bit trite, obvious. I mean, it's thoughtful and all - nice title - but it didn't really say anything much, for me, and had a crossword puzzle feel in some spots. Mark	2003-12-10 16:02:11
No Use Trying to Forget	madge B zaiko	Madge, Very, very nice. Sometimes the context in our critquing each other is very valuable. I just critiqued a very good poem by Brenda Tate, which i had some reservations about in terms of it's style - too ingenious at times in it's diction. Yours is beautifully simple in it's diction, simple and balanced in it's rhythms, with the nice device of repetition in the line "Old wounds break open." I would get rid of the last line, though. It's clear from the rest of the poem that there's "No use trying to forget," and to end with the refrain would be perfect. Mark	2003-12-10 12:13:41
Rural Shindig	Jordan Brendez Bandojo	Jordan, Damn. The thing about these masques, you never know who will show up, and don't know when they do. You should have doffed the mask, introduced yourself, and thrown down a pint with the big codpiece. And had a drink with me, too. This sounds like a party for a Montague dog like me. Cheers, Mark	2003-12-09 17:57:46
POP	Robert L Tremblay	Bobby T, I wonder: is there no hidden mathematical formula in this Kabbala piece? You know, the letter Z equals 400, the letter I equals 27, the total number of Zibeline equals x, which is the number for . . . If there is no mathematical formula, why the hell not? Maybe next time. The Acolite	2003-12-09 17:54:09
Life at ThePoeticLink	Jordan Brendez Bandojo	Jordan, Ahh, the $150 bait. The days of privateers, me buckoes, and the swash and swag. I can remember those checks coming, and thinking of the published getting paid for their verses in free copies. Suckers, I thought, let us hang out with Minnesota Fats in the barroom, and get the big bucks with our illicit genius, while they toil for free mags and the awards of the pristine. Now, we wait for the "score" who never walks in the door. Now, we get the free credits (well, that's the idea anyway) and the making of a small space at the bar. A day of miscues and scratches. Am I missing something? Mark PS - It is nice to have you around, keeping this boat afloat. Or the neon light blinking in the window. Pick your metaphor - I got lots more.	2003-12-09 17:11:05
A Failure To	Thomas Edward Wright	Ho, And so on we go, the magical mystery tour. I would hope the route is over sea, in a boat. No other, plebian means of travel would befit. A failure dos. Absolutely. There is no I, only you and me (the personal of the PRO-nouns being nothing but rhetorical). Miserable failures both. There is nothing new under the sun. The Manxman	2003-12-09 16:40:34
As to the Site of the Preservation of Memories	Thomas Edward Wright	Ho, On further thought . . . no redacting from the redactor. You have temporarily bottled the bastard - I mean the demon in the tempest, the roil without the glass. I suspect that guilty creatures, reading this poem, would melt at the pathos in the screen. Suspect is a lie. Your humble servant, H	2003-12-09 16:33:33
Haiku	Drenda D. Cooper	Drenda, Everytime i read haiku i can only think "God bless you." Maybe i'll try one some day. I have very good examples to learn from her, yours included. Hmmm . . . sort of history working backward, the past reflecting the present. I like that touch. Mark	2003-11-18 15:45:03
Border Clash	Thomas Edward Wright	Ho ho, Getting the team ready for the holiday season? Apparently (must be misspelled!) not, as you have time to pen poetry. This looked good in the half-light as my wax wanes. Very good. I see a consciously designing mind behind this poem, as if you had ruminated a bit, getting the pieces just right, before swallowing. Ruminating does have something to do with chewing, doesn't it? I hope so. Anyway, keep those snow shoes on tight, my dear Viking friend. No mas. Nox	2003-11-18 15:41:12
a curious merriment	Rachel F. Spinoza	Roni, A wonderful portrait of a person . . . again. Nice work. Solid as usual. Mark	2003-10-28 16:57:31
Nativity	carole j mennie	Carole, Love the comma geographically after "on" in the proximity of Rudolph's nose; temporally, between the on and off. I take away the sense of a gibe at Christmas, what with the "sheeps being slaughtered" and the monkey coming instead of Santa and the baby Jesus. Though i must admit, even as someone who believes in the truth of Christianity, the idea of the "baby" Jesus does make we want to puke a bit. Maybe just a mouthful, not a huge wretching episode. And not a monkey coming metaphor. God forbid! :) Mark	2003-09-26 14:46:43
The Wall	Mell W. Morris	Mell, Wondeful poem. Bravo. Mark Brevity is the soul of wit. And sh-t in this instance. Mine . . . not yours. Not by my ton. :)	2003-09-26 13:32:07
Looking Back	Thomas Edward Wright	Land Ho, Do thy antennae twitch? This toehold of the realm has become very inhospitable to the noxious vapors: my kingdom is not of THIS world. I'm hauling on the bowline, changing sail, and heading back to Continent Europa (aka the ranch). I'll have a fork and a blistered dog reserved for thee. As to the poem, roll it up and put it in the dead bottle of Costa Russi. Toss it far with thy mighty right arm, into the sea. It may serve to restore hope in a marooned brother, and there be a few. Nox	2003-09-18 10:11:35
Right to Life	Rachel F. Spinoza	Rachel, So . . . let's kill “her” before that happens. Great policy, wonderful theology. The thing you fail to realize: the Lord may claim her, as He has claimed the most abject and worthless (in the eyes of man) of his creatures. And then the external circumstances of her birth are rendered meaningless. She may very well be one of the chosen, one for whom the great price was paid, and, unfortunately, one for whom vengeance now must be wreaked when the Day of the Lord comes. And a mere mortal, one of the "unrepentant" as you say, decides to kill her. For “her” benefit. To "spare" her and eliminate the intervening (and apparently unnecessary) step of an earthly journey on her path to the Lord. Give me a break. Too bad Jewish mothers in Germany before the Holocaust didn’t have your prescience. Or African mothers who were about to be bundled off on a slave ship. How much suffering could have been spared! How much unnecessary, murderous detail! I could have simply said, “I’m done defending you.” But that would be untrue. You may be right about something again someday. Thank you for submitting this poem, and giving us some focus on an important issue. Mark	2003-09-10 11:54:09
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