charles r pitts's E-Mail Address: cdognu4fun@yahoo.com

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Poem Title	Poet Name	Critique Given by charles r pitts	Critique Date
The Thief	Timothy Holyoake	A train cut through the green hills like a finger tracing a scar.---this is incredibly POETIC! i know there are much better words than that,but i am at a loss.im jealous too--i so wish that line was mine! Dear god- (but im not very religious), the horrible hell this must have been! did it only happen once? did your mother know? was there sexual abuse or just physical? wont/cant make comments or suggestions for improvements-for this reads like you poured it right out of your mind. anxiously waiting... charlie	2005-06-14 03:53:26
Crested Swift	Nancy Ann Hemsworth	thanks for the sharing. i never heard of tanka poetry. will try my hand...... -"brawny" hummbingbird's wings? -the words u put together here seem recklessly strewn with whispered reverence--and they're fun to say togetherv too.	2005-06-06 00:14:17
TV	Latorial D. Faison	get' em girl! ur a skilled haiku penner! there poem really paints a giant outline that one could fit so many things into. another thought provoker.. ****** what if "to the Bush to America" read, "to the Bush OF America"?*********just a thought good to see you	2005-06-06 00:09:15
Treasury of Bitter Herbs	Jana Buck Hanks	Today and yesterday vie for grace-filled remembrance in the fanciful clouds of tomorrow -think u should switch "today" with "tomorrow" here--"tomorrow and yesterday vie....in fanciful clouds of today" the illusive hours of seemingly innocence dances -"innocent"? your poem reads like a "stream-of-consciousness" passage. thoughts pouring straight-from-the-mind-to-the mouth-to-the-air. a fascinating genre im very much interested in. your word usage is superb	2005-06-05 23:51:29
senryu	Rachel F. Spinoza	this was an interesting tidbit. your choice of words in this are clever. at first, seeming a random assortment of solitary words; each standing along over its own realm. but there are no periods here. upon closer look, each of these words represents one facet of the whole entity. and when read in such a way, an entirely different picture is presented. a rawer, more vivid picture revealing intricacies beneath the surface layer. so many possibilities from just a few words. excellent haiku.	2005-06-05 23:43:01
For The Love Of Aphrodite	Nancy Ann Hemsworth	Who'll enchant and trick thee (what about "enchanted trickery here"? dont know your rhythm for this goes though) --------------------------------- In a torrid dance On the top of her waves (what about "tawdry and torrid she dances with (or in, etc) waves (or the waves)" ---------------------------------- You'll be tossed and your soul ("your mind lost and tossed as you're wiled by her ways") Will be lost to her ways. * i thought mind good here since soul comes next* ---------------------------------- Take heed young man Tis’ your soul that she seeks ("young men take heed tis you're ...") ---------------------------------- She will toss you and turn you (what about different words here : "leads you and bleeds you"? maybe) ---------------------------------- For your thirst won't be quenched (maybe "no thirst is quenced"?) ---------------------------------- Don't listen young man(turn deaf ears young men?) -------------------------------------- like everything about this: the idea, the form, the rhythm, language, and warning tone. the repetition of some words (tossed, soul) seems to take something away from it. try using some different descriptive words. also, you have some strong sentences in there sandwiched between some that have a lot of the same words in them (the, her, that, be, and, of, you, your, she, etc.) for sake of the rhythm. maybe tell this to all young men instead of one. lots of good stuff here to work with. definite potential!	2005-06-05 23:31:27
Child in the distance	Mark Andrew Hislop	a very touching read Mark. full of sadness, regret, reflection, truth, and conviction just a few of the emotions bubbling here. a brutal, self-reflective honesty throughout that makes readers reflect on their own actions. love that last stanza. it really drips with heartfelt, sincere, desirous, hopeful conviction. well done charlie	2005-05-21 12:00:57
Who Was Reetika?	Latorial D. Faison	as a history buff, i am intrigued to look further into this woman's life as your poem and notes (thanks 4 them by the way) left me with some curiosities. your topics are always so refreshing and your delivery is point-blank. u give me food for thought... ever-thankful, charlie	2005-05-21 11:43:10
Tiny Tragedy	Nancy Ann Hemsworth	what if moths could think as humans? assuming they would know better than to continue to fly to their deaths, what would they be saying? what would people say if faced with something similar? declare war on it? just a few of the nerdy things that get in the way of my important thinking. love the rhyme. wish more did (or do i?) excellent job of taking an everyday, common occurrence and breathing tragic life into it. scribe on! always, charlie	2005-05-21 11:37:58
Contentment	Audrey R Donegan	this reads like the lamenting of a sad occassion or event in one's life. seems to me to say, you know what? time will go on. life will go on. when all the world has let this moment slip from their memory, ever shall i continue to remember. just a few quick grammatical suggestions (as your words are really self-supported, complete, and vivid) Time will forget this moment allowing its endless linger, BUT(seems like a run-on sentence without another word here) deathless in my mind. -entranced, (think a comma is better here) -fish-eyed (hyphenated because seperately, words don't have same meaning) -will (think either semi-colon or dash here always a pleasure, charlie	2005-05-21 11:17:06
A Long March	Nancy Ann Hemsworth	love haiku too- think "saluting April" works better for the last line? seems like it would kind of connect things better, like a cause-and -effect- sorta -- like the parade of pastel tulips swaying is actively saluting or something. i dont know- just wanted to give you something to think about i guess. but its really nice as is. maybe ill write and post one for you along these same lines or with this theme. charlie	2005-05-17 17:51:36
Sometimes	Kenneth R. Patton	the greatest battles ive ever fought, the worst suffering endured, the strongest fear ever faced, the deepest pain and heaviest burden carried, the toughest challenges ive ever struggled with have all been born from internal conflict and the wrestling with my own mind. sometimes it is best to leave it be.. this is cool especially with the add. notes. charlie	2005-05-17 17:42:38
Walking In Morning	Nancy Ann Hemsworth	simply beautiful. i was taken back while reading this to when i thought these very words. so eloquent the simple message delivered, but in such a way as i feel that old pain that comes with loving another unreturned. we see what causes their shoulders to sag, their head to bow, their shoes to shuffle, and we have the cure they so desperately seek, yet the blindness of love prevents them from seeing. and as we yearn to love that one so desperately in search of and in need of it, our hands are tied by they, our captor. excellent, makes you stop and think for a moment. charlie	2005-05-17 17:35:15
Around the Block	Mell W. Morris	was so hoping this was your original work. i was getting all worked up until i read the end credits and realized that i would have to wait yet longer for an entree from you with which satisfy the gnawing hunger left by the absence of your mental victuals. know that while we wait for you to cook...we hunger. charlie	2005-05-17 17:25:29
C'mon	Kenneth R. Patton	had to read this a few times but i think i got it. those work-a-day boredom blues. seems to me like you're staring out your work window, maybe it's a beautiful day, mybe not, but you're worn down from the work week and daydreaming about the weekend. maybe a hot date, maybe life is good, or maybe you're just full of yourself, but you're thinking about anything but your job. you're trying to hold on til quitting time, but your inner child is dying to turn loose. you're looking at your reflection and thinking of a zillion things you could be doing but aren't. is that the 24 hour bug i feel coming on? do i need to leave early? im probably way off, but if this isnt about longing for days of old, when youth and reckless abandon were your partners, well it ought to be! nice one. charlie	2005-04-21 08:19:32
Promised Sight	Paul R Lindenmeyer	i may be wrong but i sense some bitterness here. like maybe personal faith has been tested. or could be a contemptuous sneer to the devout religious masses. i have no idea what the pool of siloam is. sounds biblical (hope i dont sound too heathen) kinda like a sodom and gomorrah pool or something. anyway, it makes a nice sound when i read it, and even though i dont know what it means, i still like it. like how u gave each line a religious slant : graces, spiritual, faith, spittle (where else but the bible?), redemptive(redemption), and the whole last line reads like straight from scritpure. very good. charlie	2005-04-21 05:04:46
Hanging Tree	John Dean	this poem does have a rhythmic, lyrical feel to it, and i was reminded of that old zeppelin song -gallows pole-from the words, but this didnt seem like a rip-off, rather, it has a fresh feel to it. i like story feel to it and it seems complete (maybe another stanza telling why sleeping with this girl doomed you to hang), im just a little confused at the end. my take is that you died from the hanging. but when you say "As we lie by the hanging tree" it seems to contradict that notion. if you are dead here, i think "as im swinging from the hanging tree" would be better (u could even say "as we swing" and say "in the tree"). good poem though. charlie	2005-04-19 04:14:25
Subtle and not so Subtle Racism	Mark D. Kilburn	i was born with mixed heritage, the product of poor white southern sharecropper (father) and more affluent bible-thumping, fire-and-brimstone, blue ridge hillbilly (mother). as a result, racism was as natural a part of our belief system as our belief in god. i grew up in a small, country town in nc where racism was shared among everyone like a good story or joke. it never felt quite right to me, but there wasnt really any minority opinions going around that offered any alternative viewpoints. i felt strange in social settings when a black friend of mine would be with the gang, and everything was fine until he left. sooner or later, a comment would be made and snickers and giggles would follow. i tried to play along, but felt embarrassed and sickened on the inside. then at 18, i joined the army as an infantryman and was shipped 1st to ft. benning, ga (for basic), then to ft. hood tx. thus began my journey to self-discovery. i decided to make my own mind up about what i believed in, what was right and wrong, and what i valued. i began to realize that my own color of people had done worse things to me than any other race. in tx, i was roomed with a young man from flint, mi who was as anti-white as i was anti-black. and wouldnt ya know it? after a tense first few weeks, we became as brothers. and another guy down the hall? he was hispanic, but his heart was as true as any i'd known. i decided everything i had been taught was BS, and that a person's character was the best gauge of integrity. a few years ago, i read roots by alex haley (having never seen the series), and malcolm x (loved that movie). it made me so ashamed to even be white. though i played no part those atrocitied, the blood in my veins came from those who did, and if i would have lived back then, i may have. i began looking for the subtle racisms you speak of in this piece. its everywhere. it is painful to hear other "whites" talk about how blacks ought to just "get over it". that it was a "long time ago" turning a blind eye to the continuing effects 400 years of slavery still has on black people. i have to stop here because i get so angry at how little progress we've made, and the glossy cover we put on this ragged, disheveled tome. i like everything about this poem. if it was mine, i would choose a poetic structure (renga, cinquain, sonnet, etc) and chisel down this piece to fit it. the topic, the info, the delivery are all most appropriate, most desperately needed. the right vehicle to present it could open some eyes. thanks charlie	2005-04-17 21:33:39
Letters	Audrey R Donegan	having served in the army, i feel you on this one. alone, lonely, and states away, my only connection to her was through letters. longingly i waited for basic training to end so that i might see her again. afterwards, the months between leaves was torturous. as my letters became more passionate, urgent, and desperate, hers became more "drab and uninviting", colder, less frequent until inevitably, they stopped altogether as she moved on with her life as i turned circles in limbo. but throughout, my memories of her, and of us, had grown so in stature, become so ideal as to be seemingly change how and who we were. this poem brings back memories of that old pain, that deep ache that only lost loves of youth can claim. -The wait will be the death of me. -It stirred me woke my nodding passion Reminding me of your wanting eyes begging for one more glance. these lines really capture the wanting i felt very nice charlie	2005-04-11 05:12:22
She speaks	Audrey R Donegan	ahhh-perversion. that ever-so-tempting siren whose song knows no native tongue, yet none can resist. at first, i thought this was a description of a sexual encounter you had with another girl, a neighbor or good friend perhaps. a hot summer day, two girls swapping stories of budding sexual encounters. youthful exuberance leads to curiosities that are pursued by her, relented by you. bolstered by the passions of youth, invulnerable through innocence and ignorance (not the bad ignorance, but the unknown kind) cares and fears thrown aside in pursuit of life. but upon rereading, i sense that the she you speak of is perversion herself, and this poem describes her seduction of you, and your rationales for surrender. i may be way off, but reading your submissions, and offering my own reflections is its own reward. look forward to more from you... oh yea-and youre just 23? charlie	2005-04-11 05:01:00
Daddy	Audrey R Donegan	by the time ie end of the first st got to "kindergarten bones" i felt i knew where it was going. but my mouth fell open by the end of the first stanza. how incredibly vivid the emotion you have penned here. i feel the bitterness and resentment (though those words are wholly inadequate to describe what you must have felt living it, remembering it, and writing about it). "Your number one girl" this line makes me think of adark bedroom, the only light spilling in dimly through an open door. quiet footsteps, sleepy eyes, and whispered words that arouse a queasiness of something wrong, something not understood, but something impossible to compromise or negotiate. betrayal, in the worst way, and predatory promises with the worst intent. the 2nd stanza reveals a piece of difficulty in later years of loving and being loved by another, of forming relationships, and of knowing the difference between physical and emotional love due to the repeated abuse of trust, of affection, and of interaction, and all in a few words. the 3rd stanza merely scratches the surface of the myriad of questions you must have for him, but your choices for inclusion show an attitude of contempt, and have the tone of disgust, anger, and acceptance; an odd combination for such an experience, but totally admirable and applaudable. "with eyes the age of time herself" my absolute favorite line, so expressive, so descriptive, so perfectly apt that i wish i had penned them myself. and finally, the end. your comparison reveals that, to you, he is that which kills you. he is that thing that is eating you up from the inside out. like a parasitic disease, his presence, his influence is death. death to love, and death to life. bravo for your courage to share this. others dealing with this same affliction will read of your pain and gain some leverage, some sense of comeraderie where once there was none. you spit this inhumanity, this atrocity, back in the faces of all those responsible. my deepest, heartfelt sympathies to you for the horrible ordeal you were forced to endure. but i feel that sympathy is not what you seek or need. u seem very strong, and i admire the mind you posess, it will carry you far. never forget that these things that have happened are not who you are, just things you went through. you can still be the person you want to be. very best of luck to you audrey, hope you stick around here awhile.... charlie	2005-04-11 00:06:31
Half	Latorial D. Faison	these 3 little lines speak volumes. its as if ur saying, i put my heart and soul into us, i gave everything i had to keep us together, and u leave and take it with you. those empty feelings of hollowness, as if a part of you is really gone. functioning seems impossible, survival irrelevant. once they leave you, the remains left over are just inadequate to continue. i really feel you on this, as ive felt that the someone leaving me is taking my love, compassion, affection, understanding, and caring with them, and without those elements, life is not living, its merely being alive. so much contained in 14- your gift is truly saying much by saying a little. this one made me think. charlie	2005-04-10 23:20:50
For Dead Fathers Who Live	Latorial D. Faison	you know, this really hits home with me. my parents split when i was 8, and for the next 5 years i spoke to him roughly once or twice a year (usually when mom made us ask for money) and didnt see him at all. the memories i have of him are of an angry, abusive negligent person who saw my brother and i more as hindrances he would rather be rid of than his own flesh and blood. a couple of times (once my brother and i were of adult age) he half-heartedly tried to be a part of our lives, but it was short-lived, and a toss-up as to who regretted it more. for the past 8 years he finally stopped pretending to care, and i have neither seen nor spoken to him in 3 years. the man that replaced him in our home was an alcoholic who seemed to feel much the same way as my biological father, only softening his last few years until he died in aug 2003 from cancer. -Where have you been All of my life? -being dismissed -Disregarded, discarded -Left to find my own way Lies, lies and more lies these lines i found especially apt. how many times did i ask myself these same questions or think these same thoughts? you really transmit the rage that is carried inside from betrayals and abandonments such as these, but in that somewhat-civilized manner that accompanies the telling of truths long studied and pored over. looking at the similarities and differences of our paternal influences, i cant help but feel a little envious of yours, as sometimes it seems best not to know. thanks for helping the healing.. charlie	2005-04-10 23:14:53
Why and Far	hello haveaniceday	i sense true loss here. loss has many faces, many behaviors, and here you have captured one for all to see. an excellent exhibit at the emotional zoo. A whispered name upon the snow- so much longing here in a few words. A press of thoughts my meal today- ive gnawed on this entree before. an empty feast thats always too tough to chew. I call you call my name your name- this is such a revealing line. it shows the depth of devotion and want. How our hearts strain to sing the blues- beautiful nice rhythm- im such a sucker for lyrical poetry charlie	2005-04-05 19:48:10
Rain	marilyn terwilleger	i like this one marilyn. the second line is my favorite; it really suggests some secret, majestic, mysterious life of rain. it actually seems a little out of place between the first and third, as it makes them seem all the more ordinary, unworthy. there is tremendous power and possibility in that line. i hope that you will take it and tell more of its story. charlie	2005-04-05 18:53:21
Water Spirits	Latorial D. Faison	Mysterious. Somewhere, someone (several someones) faced death by drowning rather than face some atrocity. Interesting. There are several historic incidents that this could apply to, but the specifics are not what is needed here. What makes this poetry is that any specifics are omitted. Here, only the sacrifices made are given any import, and related in such a way as to be universal, becoming less about people drowning at sea and more about the pain of injustice and inhumanity and the suffering and loss it causes, but at the same time, the glory for those returning home. Beautifuul. What I like best about your work is that your ability to say more with less is improving, and also your work is becoming more thought-provoking. Keep it up! charlie	2005-02-13 13:36:09
Stranded at a Signless Crossroad	James Edward Schanne	Is this about the indecision one feels when faced with a totally foreign, alien situation or predicament when one is at a total loss; having no prior knowledge, experience or background to draw on? Or could it be about being mired in a mid-life crisis, where for no good reason, things just don't seem right? I feel like the last stanza is describing the the desire to reach down and give your pair a good squeeze for motivation, sort of a gut-check if you will. Your ability to keep producing new vocabularies that somehow seem to have a common thread is most impressive. Seems like I never read the same words in your poems. Ever try writing in a different format? Drive on... here's a few suggestions to help with syntax (semantics?) desolve-"dissolve" cave in-"cave-in" wolf pack-"wolfpack"	2005-02-13 12:45:07
Seasons and Flight	Mark D. Kilburn	how refreshing to see a poem that rhymes! sometimes i feel like i'm the only one. i really like this mark. lots of imagery and your wording is descriptive; painting the pictures for the readers in splendid color. i could almost sing this, and it's subtlety is calming. i have included a few suggestions for you, though this poem stands strong on its on. there's just a few lines that would seem to flow better if you dropped a few words, but this poem dances to the beat of your rhythm, so if these put the piece out of step, just disregard. thanks... charlie wings as cool as melting snow-drop the "their" "lots" to say blue as water-such a sight-drop the "he's" crows turn cold sky black-drop the "a" spring's alive-contraction birds return to warmer skies-drop the "the" sneaks in like midnight thief- drop the "a"	2005-01-26 11:55:26
"What is a Tsunami?"	Latorial D. Faison	I found myself moved in two places here: first, in the third stanza with your concept of "a day of less". what about "lifeless" instead of "clueless"? Clueless doesn't seem to fit in with the powerful words that follow it, but the feelings and images your words provoke here strike deep emotions. second, your last stanza, particularly "only those who have seen the depths of so many lives with death in tow." conjure a somber sadness both from the mental images, and just the pronunciation and intonation of the words themselves. very nice...good to see you again by the way. Happy holidays! Charlie	2004-12-30 06:03:49
Renovating Thoughts	James Edward Schanne	Try as I might, I just can't make a connection with this. I vaguely feel I'm grasping something one moment, then a cluster of words blows my theories out of the water. Seems you are describing various thought processes using carpentry as the vehicle. 1st stanza- buzzsaws, fitting pieces, and nailing notions could describe how the brain takes bits of info from the past and the environment and uses them to construct new meaning. Get the 2nd and 3rd lines, but 1 and 4 loses me. 2nd stanza- hammering, landscapes, fumes, could be suggesting how we create our own world, often from the wreckage around us with few blueprints to work with, and little idea on the finished product. 1st and 3rd here less vague, but 2nd and 4th destroy any ideas I might have. 3rd stanza- only get the 1st line here. While gawking at the world around us, we can often miss other things. last 3 lines just make it hard for me to connect previous ideas to, and are confusing as to the message. couplet further loses me, and I find that reading this is more work than pleasure. I'm sure that people really in the know about poetry completely understand this, but I can't make heads or tales. Forgive my ignorance. charlie	2004-12-26 12:48:13
Norsemen of Antiquity	Thomas H. Smihula	LIVE LIFE! for one day you will find that time has snuck up on you, and the hour is later than you thought. There are still many things to fulfill in your life. Roll with the changes and stay true to aspirations. There are many detours and hazards out there, but always keep your eyes on the prize. Do not be afraid of the new and unknown, yet investigate and educate yourself and make your own decisions based on knowledge and experience. Don't be led throughout the living of your life, instead carve your own path through the wilderness so that others may follow. Is this close? I hope so because I really connected with this. I had to read it several times to piece things together, and decided this was a better way to express my thoughts instead of a stanza-breakdown.	2004-12-10 03:14:44
Directions of Lost Passing	James Edward Schanne	Help me out here. I purposefully have avoided your submissions because I can't ever figure out what you're saying. Don't take that as a negative comment about your poetry, rather more a reflection of my mental laziness. The lack of punctuation and presence of only one capital letter makes it even more difficult for me to understand as I don't know where separate thoughts begin and end. Just when I think I'm getting a handle on a stanza, a line will pop up and screw me. But I decided I'm going to go after some of yours now in the hopes of gaining some insight into your work to help in the future, as well as trying to help you improve your poetry. The title doesn't really help much (even after reading), but I sense that maybe this poem is about how the passage of time seems to distorts historical perspectives (like the rewriting of the Bible, etc.). The first stanza I get until the last line. It seems that your saying that we are only human, and when faced with new situations, decisions, etc., we don't always make the choices. That in our haste and self-confidence, we often act impulsively, and others are encouraged to do so as well. #2 I felt I understood the most, and it is my favorite. It seems to make a comparison between our recollections of the future and a wind eroded rock formation with both, over time, losing the sharpness of their edges, and clarity of detail. #3 It seems to blame technology for distorted recollections as computers speed truths and untruths instantly, allowing widespread exposure and acceptance. I like the couplet at the end-I think it speaks truth in that the omission or alteration of certain undesirable aspects of the past are solely responsible for history repeating itself.	2004-12-10 02:23:56
Winter Waltz	Patricia Gibson-Williams	Sometimes I think people at this site have forgotten what true poetry is all about. It doesn't have to be fifty-cent words, suicide notes, or lost love heartbreaks. Poetry, great poetry, TRUE poetry is stopping to smell the roses. It is the breathing of life into the inanimate. It is the beautiful in the ordinary, the common, the everyday. All these you have accomplished with this piece. It seems the poetic zeitgeist of the day is that good poetry doesn't rhyme. What a crock! I love this poem's lyrical simplicity. Just like a gentle snowfall, these words meander lackadaisically, but with purpose. If a snowflake could describe its life, these would be its words. Very beautiful and well-written. Definately one I'm voting for, and one of the most refreshing submissions I've read here. Thanks for helping justify my own poetic beliefs. By the way, I'm sure ther will be plenty of snow in NC, come on up and check it out! C YA!	2004-12-07 07:34:33
FRACTURED FREEDOM	Mark D. Kilburn	Get out of my head Mark! You have submitted a very thoughtful, confrontational, and important piece of literature here. Not afraid to call a spade a spade, you deliver a very blatant message about the blindness and the fallacy of conformity. I love how you state the ridiculousness of outdated religious theologies, and their implications on society's progress. I grew up in an "always been this way" environment, and many times, feel exiled cooking my kill over an open fire as I watch my brethren gnawing on raw meat. How sad that the powers that be have not read your work. Perhaps if they had, we wouldn't have an idiot in the White House, a rascist nation teetering on the brink, and a planet in danger of global conflict. If more people embraced the ideas you presented, how great would our nation be? How great our world? Thanks for saying what needed to be said.	2004-12-07 06:46:35
#5 Comedy of Terror	Jana Buck Hanks	Always in nightmares As the evil approaches I run in place (My own humble submission of "comedy of terror") love your second line--"brilliant crystalline tears"--these are fun to say together in any order--something about the sounds of s-t-l blends maybe. and the last line has that odd creepy feel I always got as a child looking at faces on masks and dolls--like "Could they really see me too?" I am becoming a big fan of haiku-mainly due to ones like this. Thanks for sharing.	2004-11-30 13:16:14
November Elegy (connected haiku)	Joanne M Uppendahl	You know I couldn't resist.... Temperature guage Begins decreasing each day Bracing for the cold Leaves changing colors Shout a last, silent hurrah In gorgeous hues worn Skies gray and windy chills Seek to offset cheer and warmth The holidays bring And birds say goodbye Inviting you to come with By pointing the way Your first really captures the feelings you sometimes get when Autumn sets in. I sometimes feel the presence of death looking at naked trees shivering in the wind. And the second reminds me of the sense of loss that comes in the season of thanks as migrating birds seem more like deserters leaving me to alone to face what comes. The third you'll notice I shamelessly stole to use in my second. The fourth is my favorite. I love those "brassy" calls from the geese (love your use of that word!), and you really reveal the subtle sadness felt by losing (being left behind) something suddenly beautiful. What a neat format! Never thought of stringing them together like that. As usual, you have delivered yet again poetry that not only makes me think, it inspires me to write as well. Thank you. Good to see you again-	2004-11-30 12:46:04
Whispers (haiku)	marilyn terwilleger	Nighttime embraces Gentle hands cradle and soothe Rejuvenating A humble offering in response. Haiku are so fun! Hope you don't mind me sending you one but I just can't help it (ask Joanne). I love your use of "curtained" night, it really sets the mood of this piece, and whispers puts just the right subtle touch. And the whole second line, particularly the "lending" of laughter, adds a harmonious feel. Excellent as always--how about posting something truly dreadful for a change? I'm running out of laudatory comments!	2004-11-30 11:18:07
Great Blue Heron Sighting	Joanne M Uppendahl	My prolonged absence from here has starved my once hearty, robust lobes to rail-thin, famished folds. Its thirst for sustenance drove me back to this veritable smorgasboard for the mind. There were many tempting creations for my ingestion, yet I searched for your dish among the table of entrees. I had not a moment to lose you see as my famished, frail noodle had begun preparing to dine on its on folds, a sort of self-cannibalization I suppose. My desperation grew along with my diminishing strength until finally, at the far end of the table, my gaze settled on that which I so desired. You were there, and driven by my thirst, I stumbled toward your verbal oasis. As I drank deeply from your reservoir, I was reminded of the beautiful, the strange, the quiet moments of my own I have had throughout my travels, the moments that inspire poetry and self-reflection, and remembered the painful joy I felt that I alone was there to see and think, but with no one to share. With each bite I took, not only could I taste each individual ingredient, but I was there in the kitchen watching the preparations. May I have your recipe? This was truly beautiful. The picture you painted was more a mirror, and in it I saw me, catching a moment in time and making it mine. I also felt a hint of sadness, like the beauty of that moment was only temporary.	2004-11-30 10:45:48
The Door	marilyn terwilleger	This poem evokes the kind of sadness that only can only come with the loss of a loved one, either a child or a spouse. Whatever the case, this loss changes your life. This loss not only took a piece of you with it, it killed another piece that it left behind. Your ability to love has been crippled. The pain is so great that, rather than feel that again, you lock it away deep inside. Comfortless now, you find yourself returning to that door you reluctantly shut so softly, returning to the place where true joy once lived. How wonderfully expressive this is, you've really captured the finality, the sorrow, and the feeling of endlessness death brings. ------------------and warmth no longer caresses me ------------------ there is such longing and loss in this line. I linger beside the door, with quiet grace and outlandish sorrow--------------Though dying inside, the personal "quiet grace" of mourning this really made me think of my own mortality--very nice.	2004-10-25 04:45:34
Flower haiku #1	Joanne M Uppendahl	Begging your pardon your highness, I also forgot to copy my haiku from tree #3. I tried to email you but for whatever reason, couldn't get in; I'm probably doing something wrong. Anyway, I think this is my favorite haiku of yours yet. I just love the harmonics that fit so well with the picture you've painted here. The stark contrast between between the soft and jagged sounds fits perfectly with the delicate leaves of the iris and their proud invasion of an unbroken sky. Simply beautiful, the images envisioned. In proud defiance Irises pay skies in gold For their trespasses	2004-10-16 18:33:22
Tree haiku #3	Joanne M Uppendahl	So very nice to see you your majesty. To my chagrin, I have no copies of the haiku I sent you. If you still have them, you may email to me @: cdognu4fun@yahoo.com if you like and I will post them. I'll be sure to put a little dedication to you somewhere, as without your examples to give me direction, they would never be. I doubt seriously that I could have created those without your own to inspire and guide, but we shall see. "trees exhibit watercolor sounds"--the sheer softness and sublety of that statement, the images it evokes in the mind's eye, creates a feeling I can't explain except. The lost, inadequate words bouncing around my head seeking parents are truth, beauty, and perfection. Now, because you know it's coming... sorrowful willows bowed with the weight of the world watch as spring dances	2004-10-16 18:21:22
Moon Haiku #3	Joanne M Uppendahl	THIS IS THE MOST HORRIBLE DRIVEL IVE EVER READ!----(just thought you might like a change of pace from the hordes of accolades you receive with each submission)-------C'MON! LET'S GET A LITTLE CONTINUITY WITH CAPITALIZATION AND PUNCTUATION HERE! lol-tangerine-jack o'lantern orb-flirting with the stars are beautifully expressive--you must have some bottomless reservoir from whence this flows. citrus satellite greedily hogging the sky fat from fall harvest	2004-10-13 05:51:04
Moon haiku #2	Joanne M Uppendahl	Pure gold-have I mentioned lately that I'm not worthy? Thank you Joanne, for your poetry has opened doors for my own. Would love to get in that head of yours and see what's in there to create something like "reflected light stolen from the sun" --ahhhhh! food for the starving mind-- friendless, lonely moon waits in the dark for the sun like a lover spurned	2004-10-13 05:28:12
Moon haiku #1	Joanne M Uppendahl	Good morning Joanne-my little haiku queen! Tis the mysterious moon that you choose. And your poetic lens, Tends to blend all the ends, Delivering lyrical views. nice alliteration throughout--silver sickle just slips right out of my mouth each time I say it, and though it feels a little awkward, it's still fun (like those first few jumps on a trampoline). mysterious moon there is madness in your gaze or so it is said (this is fun)	2004-10-13 05:16:36
What In Dee' Hell?	Christopher T. Moore	Hmmmm-7/5/90---I was stationed in Ft. Hood, Tx and served as a mech inf. soldier from 2/89-5/91. How about you? Your poem describes a lot of the frustrations I felt on a regular basis busting my ass for Uncle Sam. Were you at Hood too? If so, do you still have nightmares about running around that cursed water tower? lol-- Don't know what was worse, the bald head, lack of FUCKS!(there were no women allowed in 11m), singing those ridiculous cadences, or being so far from NC. Ahhh! You just brought back a horde of memories--Damn you!--lol-only kidding- I feel you with this one.	2004-10-12 23:45:04
Mantles	Andrea M. Taylor	This is especially intriguiing. The wording allows for broad interpretations and the imagery personifies a vivid picture of the changing seasons in a unique way. Well done! You make me want to try my hand....	2004-10-12 22:35:10
Silence	marilyn terwilleger	The deafening roar of silence. I wonder how old you were when you wrote this, and what circumstances if any prompted this theme. A simple poem with simple words stated simply, but that carries the power of personal epiphany and leaves the mind begging to know the culprit responsible. Intriguing!	2004-10-12 21:42:52
Frozen no more	Nancy T Bindhammer	Though certainly not familiar with your experience, I find commonalities in your poem with a period of my life after my father died 8/26/03. By Christmas, I had hit the bottom of a depression I had skirted only the upper levels of all my life. I felt poisoned by the fear I would soon be dead, hatred of my own weakness, and anger at everyone and everything I blamed for my problems. I had lost my will to live and completely understand your words-"heart shattered will lost, nothing matters frozen in a place of hate", "cannot move, poisoned through not worth the time to move" I lay in bed for a month as the world passed me by, no more than roadkill on the highway of life. Kill, Die, "I WILL NOT" a part of me is screaming These lines perfectly describe my mindset when I decided to live. Courage where? Even if nobody else cared for my life, I DID! Anyone care? 'Yes' the answer is. Let those screaming pieces Yell and tell the tale of pain they will not come here - not now or again (This captures my new attitude perfectly.) I will not quit not now or ever Dammit Nancy! Never give up! Think of all you broken I am but will not quit would have missed already. hate, despair, anguish, fear - hit with all your might I am not willing to quit	2004-10-12 21:26:39
Tree haiku #2	Joanne M Uppendahl	Ahh Joanne-you've done it again, and a bit trickier this time. On first read I thought it lesser than the first, but looking closer, I found that same subtle brilliance but in a different guise. Here, it is not until the last line that true meaning hits home. Very clever, and the mark of great poetry. Love "when fall winds propose"--my humble offering: Fickle are the trees, Eloping with the first winds Abandoning leaves	2004-10-12 21:11:42
God's Kinder Garden (first poem)	Andrea M. Taylor	I feel privileged to have been allowed to share in such a personal, painful, private, tragedy. I can only hope, that in the face of such devastation I cannot imagine, I would have half the strength, half the courage you have had in sharing this terrible part of your life. This poem sets an example for all to follow. Something so very tender must be accepted just as it it. Thank you.	2004-10-12 20:42:28
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