Rachel F. Spinoza's E-Mail Address: vytas_@prodigy.net
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 Rachel F. Spinoza 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 Rachel F. Spinoza's Poetry just Click Here.
Click HERE to return to ThePoeticLink.com Database Page!
Displaying Critiques 51 to 100 out of 414 Total Critiques.Poem Title | Poet Name | Critique Given by Rachel F. Spinoza | Critique Date |
Morning Prayer | Joyce P. Hale | Hi, Joyce, Dear Lord, may this day bring me closer to Thee. Grant me wisdom to help others in need; Very timely - I wish we had the wisdom to help the victims of Katrina's fury! to others, grace to seek comfort from [Y]ou. May I keep You in mind in all I do. If you are going to use Thee I think it could be consistant you use both Thee and You in this poem] Thank You for the moon as it sets at morn, and the sun for its light, and its rays that warm; for the rain that gives life to all below, [well, most of the time it does anyway] and seasons that [mark?] our life's tableau. Thank [Y]ou for loved ones who fill our days; [Y]our guiding hand throughout life's maze. very good images here For your unbound love and grace I pray, and I thank You for another day. Amen Ah, warm and heartfelt - this poem radiates with a gentle good will. It is good to see gratitude expressed in a poem. Good structure and rhyme, best, Rachel | 2005-08-31 16:43:36 |
Your Face | marilyn terwilleger | Dear Marilyn, This poem is a good example of ho wmuch can be said, felt, communicated in a few short lines. I first Saw your loving Face when you looked at Me. I last saw your smile frozen In time It tells so very much - captures a whole lifetime and beyond. the only suggestion I make is a spacing one; I first saw Your loving face When you looked at me. I last saw your smile, frozen in time Excellent tender and lving poem Rach | 2005-08-31 16:33:34 |
Paula's Paris | stephen g skipper | Lovely poem, stephen Paula's Paris [good inviting title] Happy to be back in Paris again, because you are already my lover. In its very ambiguity - is it Paris who is the narrator's lover or a human subject - this draws us in. I was looking through a window pane, now I am standing on the hands of Buddha, Amazing! How the poem [and life] changes in a moment in the most magical ways Today I am [master of all I survey] a little ordinary a phrase for this extraordinary poem Parisian cobblestones pave my way. [I remember them well!} I lie back in the hot June sun, between your legs and bare feet. [good sensual touch] I know how lucky a man I am! With your breasts as my pillow, surrounded by a fine mist of your hair. lovely! Sweating [in?] the still of the air. After this day I [will?] say goodbye to you no more, of that I am sure. By the Seine I am hopelessly in love, and there is no pain! Kiss me one more time and, tell me that you will be mine. Things will go our way, we will have many a sweet [summer's] day! Good ending but is it possible to get more mysticism in this poem - something to jar us - like the standing in the Buddha's hand - especially at the end? Really fine poem - May there will always be a Paris and young people in love. Rach | 2005-08-31 09:19:01 |
We Love Yet | Kenneth R. Patton | Ah, Ken! This piece combines the terse wisdom of a Blake with the luscious imagistic nuances of a poet like William Carlos Williams Our tears mingled caught in a jar then hung around our necks Each in an amulet But just one jar? A little confusing as to reference of subject. Perhaps caught in jars? The word "amulet" is one of the most beautiful in the English language I think and your use of it to end the stanza - which allows us to caress it slowly it is marvelous. Our fears mingled I think it is splendid in form to repeat mingled and rhyme the word previous to that end rhymne in each stanza. sent from afar then flung from our lives …and we love yet and we love yet - yes the indomidable way we hold on to hope is a miracle indeed, wonderful poem, Ken. | 2005-08-28 10:22:17 |
One Evening | Dellena Rovito | One Evening [ah some enchanted eveing indeed! good title] An opalescent moon hung in the high seducing hearts spilling spells from the sky. [spilling spells] is esepcially delightful! Dazzle dancing stars told of a meeting… wonderful to be: fiery yet fleeting… [great fresh rhyme here] Then out of nowhere, a fellow arrived his introduction noted: uncontrived. [and here a rhyme worthy of oden nash] Encircling me in [dancer's or dancers'] embrace I'm aflutter dressed in lavender lace. Rhythmically weaving, we skirted the floor. Joyously dancing to the edge of amour. "edge of amour" is clever! Merry swirled the night, twirling to song until warbler's chant pulled up the dawn. nice personification of the bird/sunrise Sun's glance advanced [good internal rhyme]in consideration Enthrallment thrived in highest vibration. Thinking the encounter the first and last I'll ever reminisce the evening past. A little redundant to me as we cannot reminisce about the present or perhaps I am missing the message in that line As Cinderella's slipper was lost, then found my acquaintance proposed another round. hmm. so we fall in and out of love in the space of a dance? Good imagery, good cadence, lovely, dancing poem Dellena v | 2005-08-28 09:46:36 |
I Think I Will | marilyn terwilleger | Fascinating inquiry into the nature of existance Where do we go when hearts stop and souls escape from pools of blood and flesh? [Yes! Where indeed?] Do we float unguided and un-swaddled, shading our brow from glare but straining our necks to see? great imagery here! The glare of light to which these souls are at once attracted and at the same time overwhelmed. A journey of awe. I have decided I shall go undaunted and undismayed with a sprinkling of outlandish grace. I am woman! Yes! At least I think I will You will - I know you will! Great determination poem, Marilyn - alive and carefully constructed | 2005-08-23 19:30:37 |
Excitement | marilyn terwilleger | This is different for you Marilyn! Sometimes the most concise poems contain the most complex ideas and this one certainly leads us to an introspective contemplation. If I Smile now and then Will it fulfill or do You need excitement morn unto Midnight[?] [nicely alliterative] Good question - "is that all there is?" Can we be satisfied even with a sublime gentleness – a feeling of peace - a solid gesture and expression of well being - or do we, inexplicably, need to jump off a bridge or out of a plane to feel alive? And do the people in our life need us to be jumping out of plans for their amusement - or can they be content in our happiness? Lots to think about here re the vagaries of human behaviour and expectation. Bestm, Rach | 2005-08-19 09:36:38 |
Fire on Sinai | Paul R Lindenmeyer | Interesting poem although I don't know why the high priest Aaron would own or become literal or metaphoric "burnished gold." Are you referring to the golden calf? But his giving in to the people re the "golden" calf was, in my version of the story, done under enormous duress, not something claimed as his own. Perhaps the reference is to something else entirely and if so, I am sorry I missed it. As a Jewish person I am not much versed in Christian theology. Fire on Sinai The Light chizzled stones collide with Aaron's burnished gold. In the crescendo, Immutable, - ....stands. He "stands?" Isn't this kind of bodily personification something that would lead us to a specific image and rather distracting from the holy mystery? Or perhaps this too is a specifically Christian perception? Jesus? Another god is vanquished and Fire returns to Sinai. But was not the "fire" really always [and forever] there? Interesting images. I wish I understood it better. best Rachel | 2005-08-18 22:07:05 |
Shadow's Last Sigh | marilyn terwilleger | Still really words well! Shadow's lass Sigh Upon the wake of dawn and dark is gone impetuous shadows cloak the yawning land nice Across the meadows and o'er the plain, ocean sands, and fields of tawny grain ...this couplet is not as fresh as the others- sounds a little God Bless America that is the unertone you are going for it will need more in the other stanza to make that connection clear. Moutain shadows give life to a blanket of smoky gray and enclose the velvet lea [good assonance, splendid! ] Deep purple mist of winter's noon cradles seas of shadows in shivering trees Slithering night folds its shade, wily winds wave adieu to shadow's last sigh good personification here and throughout htis piece best Rach | 2005-08-15 17:49:11 |
The Farmer | marilyn terwilleger | a lovely poem marilyn - rich and evocative A farmer tills the stricken land Under a bright and ancient sun. He owns [excellent verb!]furrowed brow and gnarled hand, His days are long and toilsome. At the first turning of the first row He heard [why does the tense change here? perhaps the first stanza could also be past tense?] sounds of a doleful brook [Its] water barely brimmed a cup. He saw the waste but feared to look The wizened bed had not filled up. [really interesting scene and language] At the second turning of the second row [this progression is grand] He felt the breeze of a sinister wind,[good "i" assonance] Clouds stirred in a boundless sky. Dolent is another tense change earth when dry and skinned He scanned the land with a watchful eye. At the first turning of the third row He waited while clouds gathered The earth crouched and humped in dread, [really nice] Thunder spoke and leaves withered He slowed his plow, looked overhead. At the second turning of the fourth row With parted lips and straining eyes he gaped The swollen sky broke and sunk where he stood. [powerful!} He felt healing rain as over fields it draped On bended knee he cried[,] and God understood. dramatic ending to a fine piece. | 2005-08-14 21:27:58 |
Green Grass | marilyn terwilleger | Clever, fresh play of words on an old phrase I walked to the forest and saw rugged columns of wood too tall [the] for sky's lid.[interesting opening] Smelled emerald brome and spied a bull Wapiti with velvet antlers adorning his head. Hushed is this woodland [lovely] I ran to the sea and saw waves crash about, undismayed in their zeal.[good action] I tasted salt and felt pointed pellets of water spill upon my skin. Deep and dark is This pelagic liquid [indeed] I found my way to the desert where I saw a two-humped camel with [-funny]flat feet, let sand caress my fingers and toes. Sun's lambent embers sear the soil in This wilderness [ah wilderness! great stanza above] I went to the city and saw giants made of brick and steel that jabbed clouds. I saw flickering lamps of light that pierced my eyes, heard sounds that screeched. There is No solitude in this place [nope ] I looked where I had been and tried to see where I was going. Then I went home... where the Grass is ever greener splendid ending! Neat poem Marilyn | 2005-08-11 20:02:27 |
Sigh | marilyn terwilleger | Sometimes less is more - that is certainly true of this consise and lovely piece, best rach | 2005-08-04 09:06:09 |
The Dark Side | marilyn terwilleger | The Dark Side indeed! You have done much to evoke the demons of the night in this Alice falling down the rabbit hole gone gothic. Powerful, with good cadence and rhyme. the personification of daylight and the hope of that prisoner's release is an excellent hopeful ending to the piece. Night screams Broken dreams Voice without sounds Fear abounds Visions of light Mindless flight Endless thought Daydreams for naught Halls without doors Seas without shores Cunning demon departs Imprisoned daylight starts | 2005-08-03 07:41:52 |
Upon Her Leaving | Rick Barnes | Hi, Rick Very powerful, dramatic poem - one of your best, and that is saying a lot She is leaving. In many ways she is already gone. This sets us up - right at the beginning for the story that is to come. I look around for her to gather[great verb here] a few more glances [and great assonance/alliteration in gather/glances] for keep’s sake. [wow - interesting form of that word - puts us in touch with the etymology of "keepsake." But even on those occasions when I see her it is just her ["clothing"for the rhythm I think] adorning someone that resembles her. Once someone knows they are leaving, they look at things differently and [-somehow] they are changed. They are sorting through things trying to decide what has become part of them and what they have merely borrowed.[great pathos here] What they can do without and what they will continue to need. And so, she is trying, with utmost concern, to return myself to me. Fascinating - so the beloved is still caring enough to make those gestures of concern on which the relationship was probably mutually built - Lots to think about here best to you always, hugs, Roni | 2005-08-01 13:07:44 |
Where Do They Come From? | Kenneth R. Patton | Wow - i bet they never ask again! What an amazing list - its own rich poem of course. My favorite stanzas are: They come from a hippie who had it all figured demons are easily drowned and They come from a creature exploding with passion no longer afraid of [the] unknown Excellent poem Ken, which answers an even broader question - "What is poetry for" - and I think the answer here is - to make us feel that we ae part of the human family that we have experienced - and sometimes triumphed over, similar realities. thought provoking, well developed poem best, Rach | 2005-07-28 07:29:27 |
Bob's Name Is Roger | marilyn terwilleger | Dear Marilyn, Wht a wonderful tribute to a life clearly well lived. That is , even at the end he was thinking about doing things for others. How fortunate you were to have known him if only so briefly. You have captured the experience wonderfully well Bst Rach | 2005-07-27 17:07:40 |
Healing the Breach | Latorial D. Faison | Hi, Latorial, good strong statement. Yes, if we could only end this invasion which is doing much to build terror thoughout the world. If the last line is ironic it is not strong enough to make its point, at least to me. It stopped me to wonder how lies can heal a breach. Always good to see your work Rach | 2005-07-27 07:05:28 |
Earth Spirit | Michael Bird | Hello Michael, Good to see you again. This is a lovely evocation of the spirits - gentle in form but powerful in message. Be silent Listen without talking good admonition with which to begin the poem - it captures our attention admirably You will hear the earth spirit ah.... Look at the ground Feel [its] strength Look to the sky Embrace the [openness] Face the wind Taste [its] many scents Wonderful blending of senses! Open your arms to the rain Gather life for the soul "gather" is an amazing verb here - Turn east And be warmed by the rising sun reat visual - I can see htis as a painting Turn south And find many wonderous things I wish you were more specific here - Turn north And feel the cool night air great - Turn west And be calmed by the setting sun nice! Go to the river Travel endlessly with the water spirit ah what a hourney that would be Go to the valley Many sounds await you always in the valley it seems so Seek the highest mountain You will be free to soar like the eagle "like the eagle" is a little overdone perhaps a differnt simile or a specific eagle? These things I tell you Listen without talking I like hte chorus repeating here The earth spirit Will guide your way Yes - if we allow for that to happen it will - excellent! | 2005-07-23 08:53:00 |
Epiphany | Latorial D. Faison | Lovely! Visual and alive in tone, presentation and especailly in message. This has the word and line count of a haiku and the personal narrative quality and title advantage of a senyru. Excellent | 2005-07-22 08:44:31 |
Orientations | Latorial D. Faison | to nothings of loves and laws, forgivings and flaws nothings of loves and laws? How can "love" and by this I mean of course mutual love enduring, adult, reciprocal be "nothing?" and are not "laws" there to protect us all? and are not "forgivings" really good things? nicely written poem, Latorial, flowing and nicely alliterative | 2005-07-22 08:40:00 |
Another Bronx Day | Jesus Manuel Lopez | Good to see your work again, Jesus, Another Bronx Day great ironic title the bored Bronx sun I love this personification of the sun - the word "bored" is a marvelous way to indicate an apathetic audience to this tragedy watched with humid eye Not sure of "humid eye " though. I think I understand the intention of the phrase, the sun as of an eye of a hurricane - the quiet spot - with everything raging around it? and also the crying sun -But had to stop too long in the poem to consider it and it sort of got in the way of the action for me. a brownish boy running praying crying dying amazing list! however, if you use "dying" in the above line then "collapsing" in the next line seems a bit anti-climactic perhaps end the list at crying and add playing at the top? Just a suggestion. collapsing half-on half-off the curb and melting street [vivid and powerful] a crowd gather[s] to keep the tense consistant like curious buzzards around him mesmerized by the growing red stain on his shirt [yes vivid and tragic description] a football huddle blocked the withering sun [good1} and watched as life ebbed all this over a bicycle so very senseless and tragic, and you have captured it beautifully - best rachel | 2005-07-18 08:22:51 |
Full Of Crap | Dellena Rovito | Hi, Dellena! Really good, amusing poem which scans well. You can sure write well in a lot of different styles My favorite stanza is: I would not know of what is good unless acquainted with the bad. Truthfully, that is very sad. Indeed! It would really be boring and sad if everyone went around being "good" all the time. Light light and darkness - can't have one without the other. If I had only the goodness, would some of the good then be bad if this be all the 'stuff' I had? Yep. It would still all be relative I guess! Fascinating speculation The bad balances all the good everything's kept even Steven. I don't even know the reason. Nor do I - but I like the way you speculate about the nature of good and evil in this seemingly simple poem which has a lot of philosophy between the lines. Neat poem! Rach Ec | 2005-07-17 12:08:22 |
Full Of Crap | Dellena Rovito | Hi, Dellena! Really good, amusing poem which scans well. You can sure write well in a lot of different styles My favorite stanza is: I would not know of what is good unless acquainted with the bad. Truthfully, that is very sad. Indeed! It would really be boring and sad if everyone went around being "good" all the time. Light light and darkness - can't have one without the other. If I had only the goodness, would some of the good then be bad if this be all the 'stuff' I had? Yep. It would still all be relative I guess! Fascinating speculation The bad balances all the good everything's kept even Steven. I don't even know the reason. Nor do I - but I like the way you speculate about the nature of good and evil in this seemingly simple poem which has a lot of philosophy between the lines. Neat poem! Rach Ec | 2005-07-17 12:08:22 |
Full Of Crap | Dellena Rovito | Hi, Dellena! Really good, amusing poem which scans well. You can sure write well in a lot of different styles My favorite stanza is: I would not know of what is good unless acquainted with the bad. Truthfully, that is very sad. Indeed! It would really be boring and sad if everyone went around being "good" all the time. Light light and darkness - can't have one without the other. If I had only the goodness, would some of the good then be bad if this be all the 'stuff' I had? Yep. It would still all be relative I guess! Fascinating speculation The bad balances all the good everything's kept even Steven. I don't even know the reason. Nor do I - but I like the way you speculate about the nature of good and evil in this seemingly simple poem which has a lot of philosophy between the lines. Neat poem! Rach Ec | 2005-07-17 12:08:21 |
West of the Sun | Thomas Edward Wright | she knows how to ride! YES West of the Sun an' East o' the moon - sing it ! There were valets queuing Cadillacs - Actually, they were horses, unsaddled. One sidled up to me on the edge of that Abyss and with a soft kiss, It was a Palomino named King Tut. I remember that night, you wore grey, the valets wore blue One night when the stars were lone, And with a Texan’s demeanor (I swear) yeah, yeah, as long as the gun was sheathedl She sized me up for dinner and drinks And I think – here salmon fail, or swim – or fail to swim but spawn anayway How steep that climb! Night never guessed. This moonscape lost shape and flew. [great!} Gods were invoked, goddesses spoke. One and one made - for a sec - too that happens sometims - miracle that it is Blue. The very color of remorse doused with bliss. ahhhhh lovely Red. The hue of life. Might light bless that, later this. this is so wonderful The clip-clop of shoes on the drive Reminds like a clock that it’s five; And I’m walking with that on my mind, Straight into the sun. Or what’ll be left When she sets. Lots -too much to carry in one hand - and all of it shining What an amazing poem Tom! | 2005-07-17 06:21:20 |
Smile | marilyn terwilleger | Gosh - when I read this I had a complete image of a bright, animated children's book with swirls of clouds and then a child bathed in sunlight. Spectacular shiny poem. Thanks | 2005-07-16 12:14:30 |
I Wonder | marilyn terwilleger | lovely, simply lovely! When sunrise shatters night and I surrender sublime slumber, one or two s's too many in the first two lines - a little alliteration goes a long way I drink of stillness and smooth my empty bed. wonderful metaphor contrasted with a specific concrete act! Beyond the Window clear, polite, pebbles of rain [great expression!} fall on sightless trees and peaceful is their quietude. Aromas Of saucy coffee what about just "aroma?" Is there more thn one kind of coffee brewing?- Lure me and brighten my langour. I become bewitched morn[ing] would be more consistant with the language of the poem - also you could leave out the word "sound" as you do a good job of telling us the sounds. so what you would have is: morning gives birth to Trilling birds, distant hounds barking, A siren's solitary wail. [just a suggestion] Sun peeks above horizon's brink giving plaudit to sonorous hues, from primrose to maize, that creeps between The cracks of dawn. [nice metaphor!] As my day begins night dreams cause [perhaps another word for "night" as most dreams come at night - me to pause [good internal rhyme] And I wonder Will I see another daybreak? Is this my alpha or omega? Or is it more [divine] To wonder? really beautiful work Marilyn! | 2005-07-15 10:41:04 |
The Lost Poems of San Francisco | Gene Dixon | GENE! Welcome home! The Lost Poems of San Francisco ah...yes Sitting in a corner booth, Kerouac in hand, Cassady on my mind, A poem looked right into my eyes and I, in a fit of free verse, failed to see. Well, the smoke of all those memories sort of gets in the way sometimes. I saw Ferlinghetti at San Diego State last month -he's still crazy after all these years. He said - "What the hell ever happened to Gene Dixon!" {well, no he didn't, actually he said "Move along, I have more books to sign" but I'm sure he was thinking it{. Crossing the street, two blocks down from City Lights, a taste of Ginsberg on my lips, Was it sort of bittersweet? Did it leave a lingering afterlife? Ferlinghetti phrases filling my head, ph man, yeah: And there are days when I see all too clearly And there are days When I am everyone I meet. and i'm the singing poet- the poet of the street a poem brushed close and I, in a swirl of imagery, vertigiounus stuff - you have to be carfeul imbibing it! ignored the touch. yes - can't be too careful well one can get caught in that razeberry whirlwind! Gathering in the park, old friends and literature, discussing commas and Corso, yep! And cosmos and Kant the value of rhyme and the freedom of reason, [ahhh sweet reason] a poem passed by and I, deep in the stream of consciousness, barely felt the breeze. catch it oh catch it quick Later, alone beneath a reading lamp, I searched yesterday's musings, looking for all those lost poems. and put them all together in this hellova piece! Great stuff Dixon - now you need to find an open mic and a beret! I'll be there with peace buttons and bows. Bravo! yours in Peace and Freedom R | 2005-07-14 10:14:26 |
Motel Dreaming | John Dean | And this is your gift to us - a wonderful evocative and gentle poem. A poem of expectation and pathos, and life She asked me to light a barbeque Didn't she realise there was no fuel *she asked me -- too much --- she asked me to do the inmpossible I collected rocks and pebbles from a beach Laid them on a bed of sand *I tried my best to please her - to do as she asked She cried with laughter at my ineptitude *but she didn't understand or appreciate my efforts Flowers grew from the stones where her tears fell *still - in loving her - [amazingly - even with out the reciprocity of her love --of love I have been enriched I have grown, i have blossomed This is my gift to you A rock garden I give you my whole self - the sun of all my experiences - this is the message as I see - it whatever your intention might be in its message - this is a marvelous poem best to you Rachel | 2005-07-14 09:54:19 |
Beauty in the eyes of the beholder | Dellena Rovito | Nice indictment of that sort of person! [-Beauty] in the eyes of the beholder If I [-cut,] shape, blow dry, curl, color, and braid "braid" seems sort of out of place as braiding can be quite a natural thing to do and it negates the shaping idea.] my hair and perfume and rid myself of every natural body odor wearing only fashion threads, matching shoes and bag adorn myself with ribbons, lace, jewels, everywhere possible and pluck, cream, lipstick, mascara, and rouge, my face and keep thin, trimming down the calorie count and become educated, to blend into society as an asset... what an odd motivation for education - wow I'll then be baptized [neat verb here!}into the world of double standards and I'll be locked into the concept of getting approval. yep , yep With elocution, tethered, poised, trained, and confident I'll vie for your attention and acceptance. If you like me, you'll stroke me with approval. Approval being the act of liking me, because I'm 'good'! Liking is 'fondness', a smaller description of love. if I behave according to the plan, I'll be loved! I must, just follow the blueprints... so sad - and yet so many women even in today's world think that such things are necessary - good job, dellena | 2005-07-13 14:04:37 |
London Bridges | Latorial D. Faison | Where are the facts indeed! Nice antidote to the reactionary people who are so blinded with rage they fail to acknowledge the hunmanity and pain of others. Interesting poem - well constructed and wise. To peace! Rach | 2005-07-13 07:55:22 |
Sonnet to Life | Joyce P. Hale | Credible italian sonnet, nicely metered, but a little weak in the allusion and assonance one has come to expect with this form. The world may join in sorrow true for hate and pain [which] never ends And truly [true/truly too close]none can make amends for what the mean and cruel do. [mean and cruel} both mean pretty much the same thing - try for a stronger or more origicnal contrast here Those who believe in a God will pray; those who don't will rave and rant. Really? without a particular god concept people run around ranting and raving? Is this poem saying that it is not possible to be a calm, rational, secular humanist? Conversly, is it not possible to trust in a god concept and still find occasion to rant amd rave? But all in all it seems we can't keep heartbreak from our way and day. We each must find our way to cope and see the beauty of the earth. Look at the bigger, wider scope, fill up your [why the pronoun switch here?] days with love and mirth. What would life be without our hope, what would this earthly world be worth? thanks, Joyce, nice work | 2005-07-12 18:10:38 |
Listen to the Animals | Claire H. Currier | Hi, Claire Interesting story - nicely told in this prose poem. The sky darkened behind the *house [perhaps change this word as you use house again two lines down] Near the base of Mount Tully There was not a sound to be heard Pretty Girl was inside her house Snowball was hiding somewhere on the porch Big Jake strutted right into his coup They waited........... Rain drops began to fall A gentle tapping at first Just to let you know the storm was here In the blink of an eye the sky turned green [green? wow!} The winds howled bending forth limbs with such fury Even I ran for cover The power went out as lightening struck the transformer Sitting high on the pole across from the house [I] heard the sizzle of the impact Saw the flash of light Then total darkness Reported to Mass Electric the outage Then I went to bed......... The afternoon came and went Now I lit [-the] candles Found a few flashlights Still darkness filled my world It was hot, humid, no oxygen to be found..... Called Mass Electric one more time Indicated I was still without All alone here in the woods of Tully They said they were working on it Be patient.......so I was I waited till nine o’clock before calling again Have you gone down cellar to check the breakers? Lady, I can’t do stairs, no I have not..... If I did they would find me there waiting to be rescued To be honest she said you are the only one Reporting an outage on your road I will try to send the truck one more time Little did I know no truck had been by yet I called my son who was at work He left to come and see if the breakers were my problem Living so far out The Electric crew was here working on the lines Before my son arrived It was the transformer across from the house The one hit at one in the afternoon I asked why no one else reported an outage and he laughed saying .... Lady, you’re the only one on this line Well, that answers that but I certainly did not feel special....... The lights came on as my son drove into the yard..... Praise the Lord.... Bless the men who work extra hard to help us in times of trouble Bless our children who respond to our calls for help. {INDEED!} | 2005-07-06 10:16:14 |
Foundations | Thomas H. Smihula | Hi Tom! yes - it is wonderous the way love can nurture generations Two generations past, two generations hence, Reflect upon what has been gained reproduce upon the soul… good, strong. introductory stanza My grandmother’s tree was strength for all for peace, for the soul, was sought, She was there no matter what, for love is what was taught. or - for love is what "she" taught - to make it even more personal? She nurtured her fold, understood their needs, *Captured a moment, within a breeze. lovely metaphor! Here I stand, an old oak tree with branches reaching out, Leaves have sprouted upon these limbs where life prevails and shouts. that is such a strong tree metaphor - tree begets tree -wonderful So far I see a bluebird song perched upon a branch, [the song is perched? not clear ] Butterflies dance around the tree Reflecting upon a glance. These roots, will carry on, beyond the years[,] survive, With love and hope, and precious care, Remain so much alive… Indeed! Lots of resiliance this image rich and carefully constructed piece - and hope for the future So, two new grandchildren since we have seen you! Stop by the poetry group we are going strong. best "Rachel" | 2005-06-22 09:01:40 |
Pickin | Dellena Rovito | great - you got rid of just about all the glitches and now it flows like the great learian - carrolian piece it is -- well 'cept " "touch on" me is still a little odd - hmm lesseee did he reach out and hit on me ...naaa did he branch out and point to me ....naaa did he reach out a branch to me? [maybe] did he reach out and beckon me? i dunno fondle me [no!} anyway - just some suggestions if you decide to change it great lilting piece! | 2005-06-21 18:06:33 |
Mea Culpa | Dellena Rovito | Hi, Dellena excellent in rhyme, form, theme and cadence Cloudy skies and raindrop eyes,[neat expression ] the dove of peace lives beyond. If I'm always angry with you how do I get past resentment? Will world's darkness ["--ever" as persist is inclusive] persist? Hatred binds me firmly to hate. One can't exist without sun's light ["sunlight" would be smoother but might miss a subtle message?]. All grassy slopes connect[-s] to high [i love these two lines!} and seasoned waters pass on by... Mea culpa! [good!} best Roni | 2005-06-18 09:28:36 |
For You I Waited | marilyn terwilleger | Wow - what a great poem! This is imaginative- filled with fresh images and flows well. Congratulations For You I Waited [this title does not promise much and the reversal seems forced - it detracts reather than adds to the poem] I waited in the grass, and spied moonlight ooze in a marbled sky of bice and bone. WOW fantastic image - ooze is an amazing verb for this scene. [what's bice?] I waited beside the lake, till dawn cast a shroud of chilled mist that kissed indifferent water. what luscious alliverative language! For you I waited ["I waited for you" - would be softer and more natural I think I waited along the shoreline, and watched the sun sear the sea in hues of heliotrope and carnelian. yes yes yes! I waited in the stillness and the din. line break I waited in the yesterday and all tomorrows. great leap into metaphor In wind I hear your voice, in fog I feel your breath. And still I wait good ending | 2005-06-17 09:20:40 |
Yoked | Dellena Rovito | very powerful poem, Dellena The hefty yoke of greatest sorrow presses the day cheerless with the weight/ [a line break here would add enjambment] The harness is laden [heavy-for the a assonance?} upon my shoulders with my drooping neck hung low from the extreme excess [good alliteration] Bound securely with a brutal force like a draft horse living in subjugation. Gripped in servitude to misery's implement very dramatic and descriptive - I like the way you sustain the metaphor Strangle held,[? held in or hold or just the word strangling?] I'm gasping for life sustaining air. Every turn proves to tighten the harness's hold. Desperation slices time's redemption with its knife. wow - good image! And so it goes… I like that kurt vonnegut ending - yes - - and so it goes - lots of good stuff here Dellena | 2005-06-17 09:13:59 |
Falling From You | Rick Barnes | popignant and clever and wise - you capture well that feeling of vulnerability that is the saddest part of any relationship's end. Best to you always held on Believing that we Were falling at the same pace. You let go, leaving me To fall alone From that embrace. ah - yes - this is why it is so very painful - the inequality of the experience for the two people | 2005-06-15 14:37:54 |
Arnie | Latorial D. Faison | Wasn't your original Jesus also Jewish? | 2005-06-12 13:02:25 |
Depending on What Is Is | Mell W. Morris | What IS IS that the present administration is killing people all over the world. Doesn't that make the personal excesses of a past president pale in comparison? Why dredge up old, healed bruises in the face of enormous, festering, wounds? | 2005-06-11 20:34:06 |
Prideau Malraux on 65th Street | Michael J. Cluff | the thrust of fate waiting to emerge from the carelessmess or the abandon of Msr. Malreaux or loosly - the evil of pride - exposed? Something like that? Another enigmatic gem prof Cluff. Best Rach | 2005-06-09 07:28:45 |
Chains of Command | Latorial D. Faison | Someone had to say it - glad that it was someone as articulate as you You can get a lot of thinking done when there's time to do it. Today's headlines bombarded my thoughts: [good suggestion of {bomb} in that line - subtle! mistreatment of Iraqi prisoners, the Heinz papers released, the usual . . . Bush, [Cheney [sp] and Rumsfeld the usual villains - yes.... but what about Condi? working co-herently to squash any thoughts of presidential impeachment ie. simultaneously making a fortune indeed and saving their asses (smile). I'll tell you. I'm still trying to figure out why America would even allow anybody to be a Commander-in-Chief without having had a real military command in the U.S. Armed forces. well, it can be done - Roosevelt was damn good - but the officers are usually not the ones who experienced the front lines. ALso I would hate to have a Patton in the White House. White people are still doing the damndest things. yep They make the rules, disobey the rules, and then change the rules. It's the circle of life. it can be changed though - we need to keep on them Almost 3 years to the anniversary of 9/11, and still no justice for the terroristic slaughter that befell our nation. I'm about no - but lots on innocent people have died in exploiting that tragedy - preached out on this one. Every preacher, pastor, philosopher and primary spokesperson seems to have the right idea, the right the right idea? I guess this is ironic - no? message, the right lead, the right reaction. I'm following my heart. I'm listening to the voices of the dead. And they tell me that both politics and religion are overrated. That's a shame, because it's what life offers to us all. It is what life has offered me. One day it stood before me with a Bible in one hand and a white man's world in the other. I'm still not sure whether I've chosen either hand without wanting to reap the benefits of the other. You call it human. I call it crazy. I call it confusing, mixed up, messed up . . . a damned shame. This is what we are made of, what we face each day we wake up, chains of command changing the command to chains for the man. like the alliterative ending and the message Best, Rachel | 2005-06-01 09:55:50 |
Every Other Night, At The Paradise Cafe | Rick Barnes | Ah, the humanity.....wonderful poem Rick - filled with pathos and an empathic understanding of the human condition in all its manifestations r Pedestrian through my life a little too formal a verb here Much too shy To so much as even buy A single flower. lovely ending to a rich and sensitive poem best Roni | 2005-05-31 08:09:47 |
Online dating | Mark Andrew Hislop | Micely ironic poem about a man who is not satisifed by a variety of women available to him. Makes one womder what his bio would say. | 2005-05-19 07:25:03 |
Early May, the Motherless | Thomas Edward Wright | sometimes i feel like a motherless henry a long way from home But still, let's have seconds and mint juleps and all the good memories tied up in moms and rains and then we'll kick at things with blue hooves Bravo hugs Roni | 2005-05-09 14:32:45 |
Cinquain | marilyn terwilleger | Cinquain Touching Lips together Soft as flower petals Testament of our lasting love Lives on Reading this testament; this gospel of your love written with sweet intensity charms me | 2005-05-09 08:04:55 |
Your Passion | marilyn terwilleger | Hi, Marilyn The phrase "checkered silence" turns the first section into a fresh and speculative preable to a luscious poem Sky over-brimmed with rain And the way you Speak my name wonderful unexpected reference of the personal in this list When through the willow flits a bird I am not sure of hte intrusion of an inversion which -perhaps in my opinion alone - makes the stanza seem too contrived and self - conscious perhaps what a bird flits through the window And spangled sun shatters blue [great assonance and feeling here] Dreams of love Begin with you As I drink deep of coming spring And clamor of life confounds me Only your passion Will set me free Intersting ending ot a fine piece | 2005-05-07 13:57:48 |
Your Best Guess | Rick Barnes | I must have asked too much of you When I asked, “Will you wait?” ah, the introduction sets us up at once with its foreshadowing And you must have meant yes When you said, “Yes!” a poignant observation How could you have possibly known It was just a guess, good internal rhyme Not knowing then The depth of how, Or the length of when? the "length of when" is an inspired phrase. This is a magnificent poem rick - rich with pathos and understatment. | 2005-05-07 07:44:20 |
Light | marilyn terwilleger | Lovely haiku Marilyn morning light so soft noon sun lucent mountain tops I adore the soft and melodious word "lucent" twilight stunning sight It is brilliant the way the third line can be read in two ways It could mean twilight is a stunning sight or twilight "stuns" sight You are getting m better and better at this lovely form Best Rach | 2005-05-05 09:02:12 |
Poem Title | Poet Name | Critique Given by Rachel F. Spinoza | Critique Date |
Displaying Critiques 51 to 100 out of 414 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 Rachel F. Spinoza's Poetry just Click Here.