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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 15, 2011 8:48:05 GMT -6
Hiya Rachael, Enjoyed this. Very sad and somber, yet with a sense of resignation, like the one we must all feel when we "surrender" to winter (old age and death). This man is "going gentle into that good night".
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 15, 2011 8:36:20 GMT -6
Hi Callisse, I know how much you value honesty in a review, so... This one really seems to be a bit of a ramble on the familiar theme of "he done her wrong", it hurts her, and she can't quite forgive him for being so dense. This one feels like you were concentrating more on the form of the poem, rather than message. This seems to be more of a lecture than a poem, one given to a very naughty "boy". I have a short attention span but stayed with this, waiting for the punchline, which, for me, at least, never really arrived. The danger in giving us something that is in response to something else that we cannot read, is that we miss the connection between the two works. I would really love to see the same things you expressed here in a more succinct, free-verse form. I confess to a preference for that type of poetry, since it allows one to say exactly what she means, rather than keeping an eye always on rhyme and form. Honestly yours, Brigid
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 15, 2011 8:23:34 GMT -6
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 15, 2011 8:15:50 GMT -6
This was inspired by and is a homage to Eiken's "The Odour of Winter", and some of the comments she made on that thread. poetry-here-and-now.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=free&action=display&thread=996In a tidy row, fallen leaves seem to be an audience for the distant sun, watching its slow slide towards the horizon. A chill breeze blows among them, and they grow restive in their seats, rustle their applause, and sweep out of the theater.
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 12, 2011 7:44:10 GMT -6
Hiya "time", Glad to see you turn up here. I love this one, especially "madness in the mildness of her brow". Great job!
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 11, 2011 16:41:31 GMT -6
Aww, Deb, so sweet and romantic. I especially like the lines: "And as I told you mysteries of me, you turned them inside out, and there was you!" I like the ambiguity of this since it could either mean "opposites attract" or that this other person was somehow magically created out of your "mysteries". (Somewhat akin to Eve supposedly being created from Adam's rib!) The only line that really doesn't resonate for me is "I told you of the dreamy ways that be". To me it sounds convoluted or archaic, just not quite in sync with the rest of the piece. You are a bottomless well of love and romance, my friend. Keep 'em coming!
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 11, 2011 12:43:37 GMT -6
Ah, eiken, My personal feeling about alliteration is that it's like salt or pepper. Some enhances the dish, too much tends to spoil it. In the case of poetry and food, it's all a matter of personal taste. For my taste, this one is just a bit heavy on alliteration---making what is meant to be a serious, contemplative piece seem too "cute". I'm sure that there are others who will completely disagree with my opinion, so take it with (forgive me) a grain of salt.Like Rachael, I've never considered fall to be a season of rot. Transition, perhaps, or even resignation. For me the word "rot" conjures up unpleasantness (I did read your explanation and realize that, for you, the odor was unpleasant). If I were writing this poem I might say something like "Resignation is in the air..." I agree with the others, too, about "mutate" but will take it one step further and wonder how you can hear the leaves mutate or change, unless you have extremely keen hearing. In the second stanza, I'm not so sure about the introduction of "nights" since the next stanza talks of cradling a pale sun. Perhaps the problem about the word "cradle" in that last stanza could be remedied by saying "I wish I could..." In spite of all this nit-picking on my part, oddly, I can still feel what your fall is like. I can see you rosy-cheeked, perhaps with a knit cap pulled down over your ears, doing battle with all those nasty "tree droppings". I really like what you said in one of your comments about all the leaves being gathered in a row. It conjured an image in my mind of the leaves as an audience to the sun. Perhaps you could go somewhere with that image. I hope you've gotten over your sinus problems and that I've offered you some useful ideas here. Thanks so much for bringing your friend, Rachael, to the forum. Brigid
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Bedroom
Nov 11, 2011 12:09:54 GMT -6
Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 11, 2011 12:09:54 GMT -6
Hi Rachael, Yes, we cleverly "hid" the "edit" button behind the word "modify"---just a small vocabulary test we like to give to the newbies. You passed! All the discussion of the term "knick-knack" brought me back to that stanza for another look. In doing so, it occurred to me that a knick-knack is something unto itself, like a porcelain puppy or a basket of china kitties, rather than being "of" something else. So, I think this stanza would more accurately read, "knick-knacks" (comma) various odds and ends (comma)..." In fact, since both "knick-knacks" and "various odds and ends" are such broad terms, you might want to consider dispensing with both of them. You've already given us an absolutely delicious list of some of the "various odds and ends" in the lines that follow. Since the porcelain sea urchin would qualify as a knick-knack, you've covered that base too. When you use specific terms, we can actually see the objects you're talking about. When broader terms are used, it leaves us with a rather vague image. Just a word here about the use of the semi-colon. It is used to join two independent phrases that could each stand on its own as a sentence. The way you used it to separate to two halves of this stanza is therefore incorrect. I still think that this a great poem. I love to be able to see into another person's life, especially when that person lives half a world away. And I love the commonality of the "clutter" theme. Think about the suggestions I've made and see if you agree that the larger, catch-all terms are really unnecessary. I must commend you for all the commenting on the work of others that you've been doing. Exchanging feedback is a great way to get to know people, so you're already becoming pretty "well-known" here. Good job! Brigid
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Bedroom
Nov 9, 2011 16:49:53 GMT -6
Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 9, 2011 16:49:53 GMT -6
Greetings, Rachael, and welcome to the forum! Any friend of eiken's is a friend on this forum! You've painted a lovely, sentimental picture here for us. I found myself getting pulled further in, longing to retreat to such a serene place. When I got to the closing lines, I had to smile because I've been caught up in the need to purge my surroundings of once treasured objects, more often than I can count. I really enjoyed this. It's a great debut! Brigid
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 9, 2011 6:59:31 GMT -6
Hi eiken, I'm a bit confused by this. Isn't kite surfing (or wind surfing as we know it here) where a person is the one surfing the breakers and the kite is actually surfing the wind? If so, I'm thinking something like: colourful kites over stormy breakers surf winter winds I think the idea of "stormy breakers" actually makes it unnecessary to mention the word "beach". Still, this brings lovely images to mind. A lot of windsurfing goes on at South Padre Island, which isn't terribly far from where I live.
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 9, 2011 6:50:29 GMT -6
Hi Dianne, I really love your idea here. It's so original and quirky. I do have to agree with Heather that there seems to be some connecting element or elements that would make this a little more clear. I don't quite get the "trickery used", or whether the window closing, leaving just a crust is a good thing or a bad thing, since the "pie" was made up of "injuries". I think you've got something really novel here, but perhaps just a hint here or there might make this particular "pie" a bit more filling for us. It's really good, and well worth a minor adjustment here and there.
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 8, 2011 7:27:57 GMT -6
Hi d&w and Tim, I think both of your pantoums are great! My mind gets so befuddled by these (for me) complicated rhyming schemes that I'll really have to think about this one. d&w: even though participation seems to be pretty scarce right now, except for the excellent contributions by Tim, don't despair. I'm sure people will find there way here. I really appreciate all the time you put into bringing us a new form every week. Even if we don't get a lot of participation right away, remember that this thread and the others will be here as a "reference library" for anyone who wants to learn about the various different forms in the future. Thanks to both of you!
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 6, 2011 12:59:49 GMT -6
Hi Deb, I have to agree with Heather that the ending couplet seems a little off. I like your message, but rather than hearing about patience that is "gone" and there being "nothing left", I think I'd prefer to hear about how you have learned patience and what is left. Because, for me, it is those things that make growing older seem more like the beautiful leaves you have used to illustrate this rather than something totally negative, but then I guess I see the point that this is supposed to be negative. In that vein, here's another alternate ending for you: My pretty canoe has now sprung a leak with nary a paddle on life's ---- creek! I hope you know I'm joking!
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 6, 2011 6:00:45 GMT -6
Hiya Deb, So filled with longing and pathos! The fact that these lovers are half a world away and not usually conscious at the same time is so symbolic of a love that's out-of-sync. Great imagery. One minor nit: panic has no "k"
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 6, 2011 5:55:33 GMT -6
Hiya Deb, I'm glad you posted your three sonnets for comment. You must now be considered our resident Sonnetess! This is sad and very evocative of loneliness and isolation. I have two minor nits. The first is with the line: "I write my heart in poems I have penned". Even though "write" is referring to "heart", it seems redundant used with the word "penned" later in the sentence. Something like "I show my heart in poems I have penned" would work better for me. The second is with the line "hang my head and start to cry". I don't know if it's actually a cliche, but I think it's pretty close to one. I was instantly reminded of the Kingston Trio's "Hang Down Your Head Tom Dooley" and to think of that song right before the closing lines of your poem, is a big distraction for me. (I know that this would probably vary with the age of your readers, since that song is quite old.) Other than these things, really nice.
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 5, 2011 17:14:14 GMT -6
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 5, 2011 17:07:46 GMT -6
Hiya eiken, I'm so happy to see you back in the haiku groove. This one's lovely. I might be tempted to go even a teeny bit more spare and omit the "a". I disagree with Heather about adding another modifier, since the aim of haiku is to capture a moment with as few words as possible, which I think you did admirably. I know your great fondness for adjectives and commend you for keeping them down to three in this short piece. I think any more flourish than that should be reserved for your longer pieces.
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Recluse
Nov 5, 2011 16:58:11 GMT -6
Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 5, 2011 16:58:11 GMT -6
Hiya tinman, Well, I beg to differ. I think you are very much a writer! This is quite lovely. The only "nit" I have is that Souls, She and Her and My should not be capitalized, since the capitalization of certain nouns and pronouns is usually reserved for deities. Other than that, a great debut! Brigid
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 5, 2011 16:49:17 GMT -6
Hi Faith, Welcome to the forum. I think this is a great debut, it almost sounds like it could be a song. Please note that we ask you to comment on the work of someone else in the same section you post in, prior to posting your own work, each time you post (see Forum Rules). This insures that we all get feedback on our work. I'm happy you're here and hope to see a lot more of your work. Brigid
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Post by Brigid Briton on Nov 3, 2011 22:15:28 GMT -6
Hiya Dianne, You're getting to be our resident expert on avian haiku! I like this one a lot. Crows and ravens are some of my favorite birds, but I've never seen a willy wagtail! Enjoyed this!
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