on The Deep End by drnick
18 Jan 2006, 11:11 AM
I love following someone whom I trust into danger. For better or worse, til death . . .etc. You've caught this well. Leave out "in" in Line 1.
replying on A tribute to our most precious Pearl by amanda_dcosta
18 Jan 2006, 11:00 AM
I considered doing that, and I find plenty to complain about in this poem. I responded as I did because everyone who has commented seemed to be doing so out of curtesy to her and her grandmother. Either that or they really think the poetic structure of this poem is great.
on A tribute to our most precious Pearl by amanda_dcosta
17 Jan 2006, 5:39 PM
Amanda, I hate being the referee who calls an unpopular foul, but that’s how I feel. You have posted a poem, written in a time of sorrow, that you say you do not intend to edit and which you admit needs editing. I take the poem as heartfelt sentiment for a wonderful grandmother, and for that it is a good poem. But I think the “foul” comes when you post it on a site for voting and commenting, because there is little a commenter can say without sounding unsympathetic, and to vote low is show lack of sympathy for your feelings or lack of appreciation for your grandmother. Hope you understand.
Blake has a good attitude for a time of slavery in England. I wonder why you left out the first verse:
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but oh! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black as if bereaved of light.
In today's culture that can be taken in a negative way that Blake must not have meant.
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but oh! my soul is white.
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black as if bereaved of light.
In today's culture that can be taken in a negative way that Blake must not have meant.
replying on angst of the saints by calliope
17 Jan 2006, 2:54 PM
"The sound of a kiss is not so loud as a cannon, but its echo lasts a great deal longer."
replying on angst of the saints by calliope
17 Jan 2006, 2:49 PM
That's a very general question to which I have no general answer. I dare say you know how to get what you want from a woman better than he does.
#1. http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
#2. http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
#3. http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
To pre-answer the burning question, i.e., Why, other than for her usual inanity, does Dovina continue this dimtard (a passé word) series?:
1. Teaching myself how to be alone.
2. For the insult it delivers to the myriad tastefully correct exposés, with their race-is-nonexistent glitz, that clutter the internet.
3. To use the dross along Passé Road, whatever Popular Prudence drops, to make trinkets for sale on the sixties market.
#2. http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
#3. http://poemranker.com/poem-details.jsp?i
To pre-answer the burning question, i.e., Why, other than for her usual inanity, does Dovina continue this dimtard (a passé word) series?:
1. Teaching myself how to be alone.
2. For the insult it delivers to the myriad tastefully correct exposés, with their race-is-nonexistent glitz, that clutter the internet.
3. To use the dross along Passé Road, whatever Popular Prudence drops, to make trinkets for sale on the sixties market.
replying on angst of the saints by calliope
17 Jan 2006, 1:08 PM
My birthday is coming up. Could you migrate that lovely sentiment into a card with red roses, the velvet kind that fuzz up from the surface and feel clean-shaven to the cheek. And dark chocolate is quite appropriate.
on Where the Hell Did I Put My Glasses? by Joe-joe
17 Jan 2006, 1:07 PM
Fastened to a desk
in an old unused trailer
a pen and paper cup
read like memoirs,
bound there by concoction
of sugar and ten-year-old coffee.
Written by unsteady hands
on an old keyboard,
and rummaged files for lost reports,
thumbed frantically the company phone listing -
hands that no longer toil for an annual wage
but steadily hold the daily tabloid at arms length.
just a suggestion.
in an old unused trailer
a pen and paper cup
read like memoirs,
bound there by concoction
of sugar and ten-year-old coffee.
Written by unsteady hands
on an old keyboard,
and rummaged files for lost reports,
thumbed frantically the company phone listing -
hands that no longer toil for an annual wage
but steadily hold the daily tabloid at arms length.
just a suggestion.
replying on angst of the saints by calliope
17 Jan 2006, 11:57 AM
Yes, there you have it - good one, lol. Take the general lousiness of the world and return it as a gift: of ugliness and angst or sadness, but just perhaps, of beauty too.
replying on angst of the saints by calliope
17 Jan 2006, 11:29 AM
Have you transmuted an experiential dross into gold as every professor of alchemy, on occasion, should?
on The Epitaph by vulcan
17 Jan 2006, 11:23 AM
The first three lines don't quite make sense. As it progresses, it gets better.
on Green things by ecargo
16 Jan 2006, 6:24 AM
I'd rather you did not delete the comments when you make a revision. If you make a major revision, like this one, it seems better to post it as a new poem.
Better than the first.
Better than the first.
on They Knew Me From Adam by D. $ Fontera
15 Jan 2006, 8:18 PM
When you use a twist on a cliche in your title, I expect to find some allusion to the cliche in the poem. I like the third verse.
on Whenever Forever Is by Enkidu
15 Jan 2006, 8:13 PM
This is good,but I think present tense would be better than dodging, drinking, ratioining, etc.