on some deleted poem
16 Dec 2002, 7:04 PM
a good poem, though the last line is stale. The first four lines make up for it.
on some deleted poem
13 Dec 2002, 6:12 PM
You are a gifted person. A "Don" we latins call it. This is filled with feeling and understanding. A pleasure to read again and again. God bless you Richa. Merry Fucking Christmas.
on some deleted poem
17 Dec 2002, 2:13 PM
I love how innovative your poems are richa, and still when I see the words they still speak of the basics. As if you were experimenting with language the way I child does. I hope you find what you're looking for. I espeially like 'our innocence...over' & 'green so green ... Green is by far my favorite color.
on of people and places (final cut)I by INTRANSIT
17 Dec 2002, 2:24 PM
Theecond stanza's beautiful. I almost wish you could leave out the last stanza, but something needs to be said. could you come up with a metaphor? What were you looking at/thinking of when you wrote this?
on Corny. by Plasticgirlwithgun
13 Dec 2002, 8:29 AM
Yeah, there is nothing cornier then a pierced septum!!??? Not to mention more poetic. why don't you get his name tattooed across the back of your neck.
on Panning for gold by INTRANSIT
12 Dec 2002, 5:05 PM
Is this a much smaller version? It seems to have lost some of it's emotion. Take out "while on another front". Can you images to create the shift in direction?
on Panning for gold by INTRANSIT
13 Dec 2002, 8:34 AM
I'm still not sure what all the metaphors represent.
on Panning for gold by INTRANSIT
12 Dec 2002, 12:58 AM
You're moving along darlink! This piece is quite dark for someone so gullible. Will you marry me? 18-wheel me away from these hooligans? You can tie wood blocks to my shoes, and show me where the gears are. I'll drive, you'll write. Order me a pancake.
on alienheart by Bill Z Bub
11 Dec 2002, 11:33 PM
This poem is terrible. Get rid of the references. Are young men so really hard-up they'll fuck a-sexual green mini-beings?
on some deleted poem
11 Dec 2002, 11:59 AM
Many typos. this reads like a letter, a sad pathetic letter. 'Maybe I was scared that the hard work was done' is a wonderfully insightful line. Scrap the rest.
on Sparks, until Sunvalley. by <{Baba^Yaga}>
11 Dec 2002, 12:52 PM
Can someone help me, I think that I'm lost here, lost in a place called America... I am crying now because of your poem and Mr. Foster's poem and talking with Andrea last night about her dead dad, and Joey asking me questions about how exactly did his father's head get bashed in, and how did it look and an articleIi just read about the decay of my homeland and everythings so overwhelming. Joey put on his band uniform last-night for a final fitting and he looked so dear with his little bowtie and cumberbund. He'll be 12 tomorrow and still doesn't understand what a frightening, pain-filled world this is. It's layers deep. I will cry for a few more minutes and then i must pluck up the courage to trudge ahead for your boy, for my boy, for me. I love your poem. The soft sweet part of you.
on some deleted poem
11 Dec 2002, 11:11 AM
A good friend of mine just sold her parents home, her passed 3 months ago. She didn't realize how much pain it would cause her. She that it was going to be happy about it. Last night she told me sometimes it feels as if her parents never existed. This is a very fine poem, though there are a few unnecessary lines, but right now I'm all about simpliness, directness, so I will give my advice but remember it is tainted by my taste.
Get rid of all the (...)
The 6th stanza makes it seem as if the berries are growing in the shade of the family.
7-Take out 'Whose'
8-In the center of the wood the pine needles
were a giant bed.
Each foot sinking comfortable.
We saw nothing but woods
heard only a breeze whisper
about the long past
Planting days
I think if you simplify the stanzas where you are discribing your childhood experience and leave the other's more a narrative, it would create an effective contrast. Just my amatuer thoughts. you wrote a lovely poem.
Get rid of all the (...)
The 6th stanza makes it seem as if the berries are growing in the shade of the family.
7-Take out 'Whose'
8-In the center of the wood the pine needles
were a giant bed.
Each foot sinking comfortable.
We saw nothing but woods
heard only a breeze whisper
about the long past
Planting days
I think if you simplify the stanzas where you are discribing your childhood experience and leave the other's more a narrative, it would create an effective contrast. Just my amatuer thoughts. you wrote a lovely poem.
on some deleted poem
11 Dec 2002, 11:20 AM
Horrible title. Horrible poem. If this was just about wool it could be saved, but a clitoris? Though I guess I've never seen yours, and every vulva's so uniquely, like a snowflake, send me a picture, maybe then I'll understand.
on For the boyfriend I don't have by ~incarnate~
11 Dec 2002, 11:29 AM
Alright dear this isn't half bad you just have to get rid of the things that make it sound childish.
To kiss him is to surrender.
To laugh with him, a lasting memory
Blurred not by time.
Vanishing like steam
His hands on me
Speak languages
Only my soul knows.
here I could spend eternity.
good luck with the writing.
To kiss him is to surrender.
To laugh with him, a lasting memory
Blurred not by time.
Vanishing like steam
His hands on me
Speak languages
Only my soul knows.
here I could spend eternity.
good luck with the writing.
on some deleted poem
11 Dec 2002, 11:37 AM
I especially like the way you understand you and she have nothing in common. The last 3 lines speak volumes.
on some deleted poem
10 Dec 2002, 4:30 PM
God, not another terrible poem about "you know who".n
on some deleted poem
12 Dec 2002, 5:15 PM
perfect.