on Blinking by zodiac
22 Apr 2004, 10:40 PM
so, you think you have something to lose? that is what you have forgotten. you never had it. lock lips, surprise her with a hard kiss, and make a space for yourselves, for a day, at least, before you can't remeber how to reach for it.
on Buried pyramid by zodiac
22 Apr 2004, 10:44 PM
nice enjambments. i struggled with a few of the words pulled out f order, but i see what you are up to, and i like it. and this, this made me smile:
till the wondrous
seriousness of keeping our feet under us
left us, and we fell.
thank you.
till the wondrous
seriousness of keeping our feet under us
left us, and we fell.
thank you.
on Something's gone wrong by zodiac
22 Apr 2004, 11:10 PM
well done.
little things here and there to be enjoyed:
half-empty glass,
the broken record ( and the hiss
and catch and hiss of your breathing like an old song),
to shake you awake, call it quits,
So I kiss
your damp hair thinking you'll wake late from this
dead sleep, and maybe tell me what it was
about me I ought to have noticed all along.
little things here and there to be enjoyed:
half-empty glass,
the broken record ( and the hiss
and catch and hiss of your breathing like an old song),
to shake you awake, call it quits,
So I kiss
your damp hair thinking you'll wake late from this
dead sleep, and maybe tell me what it was
about me I ought to have noticed all along.
on some deleted poem
22 Apr 2004, 11:18 PM
swank little trapezoid with a roughed-up leg-up on the inside!
ooo weee...
ooo weee...
on Of Dreams and Obscurity by wilco
22 Apr 2004, 11:35 PM
or a list of opening lines for short stories?
on some deleted poem
23 Apr 2004, 3:39 PM
sweet!
on some deleted poem
28 Apr 2004, 6:57 PM
most favoritest bit:
shore and azure swells
That glint in well-thumbed pearls,
nicely done, sasha.
shore and azure swells
That glint in well-thumbed pearls,
nicely done, sasha.
nice, dry feeling to this, h.
watch the periods. they break it up too much, maybe. give me a reason your face has been turned away by these things, as the rest of you is a part of the schema.
maybe not 'death without song' but more so death with an unvoiced sound?
lose the ... on the second to last line. it cheapens the poem. the rest, in my opinion, is nicely done.
watch the periods. they break it up too much, maybe. give me a reason your face has been turned away by these things, as the rest of you is a part of the schema.
maybe not 'death without song' but more so death with an unvoiced sound?
lose the ... on the second to last line. it cheapens the poem. the rest, in my opinion, is nicely done.
on After the ice season ~ shamelessly lewd revision by zodiac
28 Apr 2004, 7:31 PM
mistake #1:
title and opening line repeat. aaaargh!!!
suggested title: 'frisson, unfrozen'
why 'ice season'? has it really been an entire season? or just a hastily-made peace that's grown into a rift?
'will we have to get'--dude, economize! save the breath for when you need it! 'must we' will suffice to thaw this ice!!
the rest of it melts off my tongue, deliciously. now, if you would only ind a way to ease me in--instead of making me fell like you're cranking that pontiac, hoping it will turn over!
bueno.
title and opening line repeat. aaaargh!!!
suggested title: 'frisson, unfrozen'
why 'ice season'? has it really been an entire season? or just a hastily-made peace that's grown into a rift?
'will we have to get'--dude, economize! save the breath for when you need it! 'must we' will suffice to thaw this ice!!
the rest of it melts off my tongue, deliciously. now, if you would only ind a way to ease me in--instead of making me fell like you're cranking that pontiac, hoping it will turn over!
bueno.
on some deleted poem
29 Apr 2004, 9:44 AM
beautiful.
but for the last, too-cordial line. it suits not the mood...and i know you can do better, here...
but for the last, too-cordial line. it suits not the mood...and i know you can do better, here...
on some deleted poem
29 Apr 2004, 9:46 AM
yay!
sweet, delicate, elusive!
sweet, delicate, elusive!
on some deleted poem
30 Apr 2004, 12:58 PM
from 'the little garcia-black book of common prayer'?
yes? i thought so.
here's a wipey.
yes? i thought so.
here's a wipey.
on There Is No Such Thing As A Poem by Aetius
30 Apr 2004, 11:58 AM
the bleeding is very nicely done, aetius, and i like the analogy to amish tables but the words "polished clean through much erasure;" don't fitwith it--they trip them selves up. give them harder sounds to match the table's angles.
vomit--vomit. monsters unleashed--yesyes--
wild apples sewn by the mad--are you mad? why not the birds? why not by orchard-raiders chased off the land by athe tenant-farmer??
tame roses--ah, now that thorn soothes ,me. now you're back on track...
vomit--vomit. monsters unleashed--yesyes--
wild apples sewn by the mad--are you mad? why not the birds? why not by orchard-raiders chased off the land by athe tenant-farmer??
tame roses--ah, now that thorn soothes ,me. now you're back on track...
on some deleted poem
3 May 2004, 8:56 PM
it looks like you are.
i like more what you don't say, which is not to say that the fire ain't been hit with a catalyst by what you've sparked in these bytes.
i like more what you don't say, which is not to say that the fire ain't been hit with a catalyst by what you've sparked in these bytes.
on Come off with me Carly back into the city by zodiac
3 May 2004, 9:01 PM
i like this. i like the cadence and the melancholy and the present that won't escape the past, here. and the gold, the yellow, everywhere, now, bursting.
on I Find Myself Standing by Aetius
4 May 2004, 10:42 AM
so many pronouns!
wean them away for a more concise image, and give me a little less narrative and a little more of why you stopped, and, having stopped, chose to then cross that wobbly span clutching that now-impotent pen?
wean them away for a more concise image, and give me a little less narrative and a little more of why you stopped, and, having stopped, chose to then cross that wobbly span clutching that now-impotent pen?
on The Influence of Anxiety by Nicholas Jones
4 May 2004, 1:20 PM
'bloomsday'--that's pretty hot.
and you didn't cop out at the end <<appreciation>> although 'they' did.
and you didn't cop out at the end <<appreciation>> although 'they' did.
on some deleted poem
4 May 2004, 4:19 PM
choose your comment:
a.
this poem is almost theere, but misses in several inconsistencies. too bad the mirror didn't miss.
b.
>> It's mid day in Florida,
>> northbound, under a hazy sun.
>> In the median, three tall birds stand,
>>underestimating.
--this part here:
youâre giving set direction. canât you show us without telling us?
I wonât suggest how--I know you like to work these things out on your own.
the âunderestimatingâ is fantastic, though. it sets you right up for the danger.
>> The closest, pure white, takes flight
>> arcing in earnest, and it's...
nice sounds, here
>> "Oh, I know you didn't just....."
now this has me confused--are you saying this to yourself? to the bird? and just because it confuses me doesnât mean I donât like it. or think it doesnât work--it does work. and maybe because it confuses me, it works better.
>> I close one eye and hunker
>> expecting a sudden and bleeding passenger.
good, except, I donât know if Iâm able to believe that a lightweight egret could bash through a rig windowâ¦of course, I could be very wrong.
>> The bird misses the windshield
>> and thumps against the right mirror bracketry
>> held firm by the seventy-mile-per-hour wind.
âheld firmâ? how about âpinnedâ to sharp-sound against âwindâ
>> Peripheral vision beckons.
oy! passive voice when youâve just snapped an angel in half!!! rich, make the language form work for you! make the glint in the glass cut your disbelieving eye or some such aggressive thing!
>> Can I stomach what mess there may be?
this is author intrusion. let the reader deal with his own messed-up emotions; donât tell him how to react. itâs stronger if he feels the pangs himself.
>> I look straight into its' small grey eye
>> as its' head bobs gently to the roadway.
bobs may not be the right word to preced âto the roadwayâ--it could bob to you--but perhaps it falters towards the asphalt?
>> Carte de visite.
why? a feather would serve this end, if it was forced in the cracked window--but the whole bird? thatâs more than a calling card, to me.
>> I click the four-ways on and slow and ease
>> to the shoulder.
>> The bird slides.
yes, slow it down, now. but Iâd have like to read the panic in the pace before this denouement.
>> Slower
>> The bird slides again.
>> Slower
>> When it finally reached the soft and sandy shoulder,
>> there was no bounce.
Iâd keep it present tense, here. keep us in the action, so we can sit with what âs just happened for a bit. donât close it away so quickly-- âWhen it finally reaches the soft and sandy shoulder,
there is no bounce.â also, give me a personification here, give the bird a life--donât relegate it to an âitâ.
a.
this poem is almost theere, but misses in several inconsistencies. too bad the mirror didn't miss.
b.
>> It's mid day in Florida,
>> northbound, under a hazy sun.
>> In the median, three tall birds stand,
>>underestimating.
--this part here:
youâre giving set direction. canât you show us without telling us?
I wonât suggest how--I know you like to work these things out on your own.
the âunderestimatingâ is fantastic, though. it sets you right up for the danger.
>> The closest, pure white, takes flight
>> arcing in earnest, and it's...
nice sounds, here
>> "Oh, I know you didn't just....."
now this has me confused--are you saying this to yourself? to the bird? and just because it confuses me doesnât mean I donât like it. or think it doesnât work--it does work. and maybe because it confuses me, it works better.
>> I close one eye and hunker
>> expecting a sudden and bleeding passenger.
good, except, I donât know if Iâm able to believe that a lightweight egret could bash through a rig windowâ¦of course, I could be very wrong.
>> The bird misses the windshield
>> and thumps against the right mirror bracketry
>> held firm by the seventy-mile-per-hour wind.
âheld firmâ? how about âpinnedâ to sharp-sound against âwindâ
>> Peripheral vision beckons.
oy! passive voice when youâve just snapped an angel in half!!! rich, make the language form work for you! make the glint in the glass cut your disbelieving eye or some such aggressive thing!
>> Can I stomach what mess there may be?
this is author intrusion. let the reader deal with his own messed-up emotions; donât tell him how to react. itâs stronger if he feels the pangs himself.
>> I look straight into its' small grey eye
>> as its' head bobs gently to the roadway.
bobs may not be the right word to preced âto the roadwayâ--it could bob to you--but perhaps it falters towards the asphalt?
>> Carte de visite.
why? a feather would serve this end, if it was forced in the cracked window--but the whole bird? thatâs more than a calling card, to me.
>> I click the four-ways on and slow and ease
>> to the shoulder.
>> The bird slides.
yes, slow it down, now. but Iâd have like to read the panic in the pace before this denouement.
>> Slower
>> The bird slides again.
>> Slower
>> When it finally reached the soft and sandy shoulder,
>> there was no bounce.
Iâd keep it present tense, here. keep us in the action, so we can sit with what âs just happened for a bit. donât close it away so quickly-- âWhen it finally reaches the soft and sandy shoulder,
there is no bounce.â also, give me a personification here, give the bird a life--donât relegate it to an âitâ.
on Where Have All the Punk Rockers Gone? by wilco
4 May 2004, 6:54 PM