sliver
on The Fence by TLRufener
4 Sep 2004, 8:11 AM
They never see us 'till it's too late. I miss not being loved, but....hell, I have nothing to give but myself-and I'm not sure that's enough.
That story should never end, then what would us simple poets write about?
Hey Sasha, long time. I really enjoyed this one, Brings memories to mind that almost make me cry. Just what I needed after last night. Thanks.
Yeah, and I also managed to leave an anonymous comment. I thought that was impossible.
Like a nigger lipped joint rolled by a blind pariah.
Dude, you said "motherfucker" with pinache, sweet.
nice poem!
<Begin simile>
<Shoehorne in as many ill-conceived war references as possible>
<Continue for a bit longer>
<Oh wait, got another one>
<There we go>
<Finish>
Why don't you at least make the most rudimentary effort to earn your fucking pseudo-professor's salary by reading a couple of books concerning your supposed expert subject matter, motherfucker?
-10-
1. Suppose there is a gene which causes an individual to risk their life to the degree of < 1/2 in order to save a parent, sibling or child.
2. A parent, sibling or child shares 1/2 of your genes with you.
3. Hence in a population where < 1/2 individuals sacrifice their lives to save their parents, siblings or children, and 1/2 of those parents, siblings or children share the kin-sacrifice gene, > 0 individuals with the kin sacrifice gene will survive and pass on the kin sacrifice gene.
4. Hence according to the simple, deterministic rules of evolution, which you seem to assume must always be self-serving, altruism in favour of one's kin will prosper as a pattern of behaviour.
5. Despite being a self-styled "professor" who "specialises" in the "relationship" between "human" "psychology" and "morality", you fail to grasp even the most basic facts of such a relationship.
6. You are the most guff-filled ballsack of a poemranker contributor that I have ever had the tedious displeasure to have to filter out in my daily trawl of poem-recent.jsp
-10-
A potato chip in a flash flood.
Definitely completely wrong. Prose doesen't have linebreaks.
Now critique:
You begin with two generalities copulating in alliteration rather rudely right infront of the reader's face: "paradox of possibility." The beginning of this poem might be improved all round by some concrete imagery, instead of bland and bald description. Show, don't tell. As a matter of fact, the whole poem does little showing and a lot of telling.
The meter however is a good one. Just don't shoehorn big words into it for the sole purpose of filling in the syllables.
This one is touching, but a little too maudlin, simple, and contradictory. I usually don't comment on these.
A perfect expression of passion.
Mastake?
I enjoyed it, hallmarkey or not.
Maybe. But it's a very common mastake.
Some parts grabbed me much more than others, but I actually liked this a little, surprised? hell shocked me.
Much better than the other one I read. You should spend some time reading some of the stuff here, might do you good.
You mean that was not on purpose? He's so deceptive, isn't he?