Around the Table: feedback and constructive criticism

[MickNasty]

Hi, Mick. Mother's Day poems should be squishy and wooogy. (Wooogy?) I know my Mom soaks up mush like one of those super-absorbent paper towels they advertise on TV. Just think of it not so much as a "poem" as an expression of love.

Having said that, my usual response would be to tell you to just use your own words, which are much more powerful and meaningful than any tweakingliness anyone else would give to your poem. Unless your Mum is an English professor, she's going to care much more about what you say than how it's said. And if she's like my Mom, the mushier, the better.
Well, OK, but my comments are simply comments. Use them if they help, lose them if they don't. You yourself know better than anyone whether this poem will please your Mom.
Your meter isn't consistent, but I don't think that matters at all. It doesn't make the poem sound odd, so I would leave that alone. I get a little confused in the end lines, though. I assume "the young angel" is a sibling?

That's the one thing I might change a bit, but I would also guess that your Mom would know who you're talking about and wouldn't be confused by it, in which case I would leave the whole thing alone.

I'll bet a box of chocolates she'll love the poem.

Hmmm... Maybe I missed the mark somewhat. Its actually for my wife. The "angel" would be our daughter.

 

[Tzara]

Hmmm... Maybe I missed the mark somewhat. Its actually for my wife. The "angel" would be our daughter.

Same diff, basically. I just assumed Mothers' Day meant your Mum. My wife and I don't have kids, so I tend not to think that way.

The same comments apply, and that explains that "angel" stuff.

I think you're good to go. Print it, buy some champagne, and put your little angel to bed early.

 

[annaswirls]

oop I thought it was for your Mom as well! I was thinking, Damn, I never wrote my mom a mother's day poem (no since grade school at least) ooookay that makes sense.

No worries, this is a new thread.

I am not by any means any kind of authority on form poems. Do you want feedback on how to make sure it is a traditional sonnet?


I have a suggestion on the verbs in the second verse. You have some ing verbs (okay I do not know the technical name) then regular present tense. I think sticking with present tense works best.

How about this:

Raucous laughter, tears rain down faces
merciless tickles make our children squeal.
Flee from torture, their jailer chases
and feigns recapture while giggles reveal

Another verb issue:
Tired and worn to their rooms they would creep
consider cutting "would"

The last verse as well, has some past tense verbs mixed in with present.

Again, these are technical issues that as a wife, I would not even notice, but since you asked for feedback, I figured I would go for it

A mother’s love, precious gift from heaven
Boundless and selfless identity lost
Born again in the eyes of her children
Always devoted no matter the cost

Raucous laughter, tears raining down faces
Merciless tickles send children squealing
Fleeing from torture, their jailer chases
Feigning recapture, giggles revealing

Kisses on noses sent softly to bed
Tired and worn to their rooms they would creep
Tucked under covers, the young(est) angel said
“I love you mama” then drifted to sleep
Alone in the darkness, now just us two
My words softly caress, "I love you too"

 

[annaswirls]

okay I worked this over a bit more. I fracking hate the last line. It is so trite. Blah god awful. I don't know how else to say it. The seeds are dead. Nothing will grow. blah


But it never does:

You asked me to bury
our silver rings beside
the door to father's hayloft,
but I never did,

just as you never carried me across
that threshold. It was only in a dream
dream we met: two kids up in the loft,
hiding behind a wall of bales, your hands
under my cotton skirt,

curious. Still, that morning dream
was solid enough to hang our rings upon
back in the kitten-eyed time
where every thing takes on love,
this song, our song, birthmarks counted,
hinges open.

Your bronze-legged statue curls abstractions
as she gives birth to her own arms. They reach out
between legs, grasp tight. There is no amnion,

no blood. We too, deliver ourselves
from metal and dust, climb leaning ladders,
and press too hard into softness.
We cross fingers and promise to bury new rings
in last season's soil as if it could
all mean something again.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

[repost from main - had no idea this thread existed]


Yes - its squishy and wooogy but it is what it is. And yes, I'm hypocritical - and here's a stone for someone to cast.

So, that said. I could really use some feedback from those more talented than I. Its a simple mother's day sonnet that I'll make into a card. With that context given, I'd appreciate a word or two to improve it.


A mother’s love, precious gift from heaven
Boundless and selfless identity lost
Born again in the eyes of her children
Always devoted no matter the cost

Raucous laughter, tears raining down faces
Merciless tickles send children squealing
Fleeing from torture, their jailer chases
Feigning recapture, giggles revealing

Kisses on noses sent softly to bed
Tired and worn to their rooms they would creep
Tucked in her covers, the young angel said
“I love you mama” then drifted to sleep
Alone in the darkness, now just us two
My words softly caress, "I love you too"

I agree overall with the comments you've received.
The meter isn't that important, but isn't iambic pentameter.
I decided to try my prototype meter program on it (see below).
I also agree about the verbs (and my program dictionary doesn't
handle 'ing' or 'ed' at present).

I'm going to try and past the html output from my program,
for what it's worth:

A <b>moth</b>er's <b>love</b> <b>pre</b>cious gift <b>from</b> <b>heav</b>en          <i>iamb iamb trochee iamb trochee</i><br>
<b>Bound</b>less and <b>self</b>less i<b>den</b>tity <b>lost</b>                <i>trochee iamb phyrric trochee iamb</i><br>

Born a<b>gain</b> <b>in</b> the <b>eyes</b> of <b>her</b> <b>chil</b>dren              <i>phyrric spondee iamb iamb trochee</i><br>
<b>Al</b>ways de<b>vot</b>ed <b>no</b> <b>mat</b>ter the <b>cost</b>                   <i>trochee iamb iamb trochee iamb</i><br>

<br>
<b>Rau</b>cous <b>laugh</b>ter tears <b>rain</b>ing <b>down</b> faces          <i>trochee trochee iamb iamb partial</i><br>
<b>Mer</b>ciless <b>tic</b>kles <b>send</b> <b>chil</b>dren <b>squeal</b>ing           <i>trochee iamb iamb trochee trochee</i><br>

<b>Flee</b>ing from <b>tor</b>ture <b>their</b> <b>jail</b>er chases           <i>trochee iamb iamb trochee partial</i><br>
<b>Feign</b>ing re<b>cap</b>ture <b>gig</b>gles re<b>veal</b>ing               <i>trochee iamb iamb phyrric trochee</i><br>

<br>
<b>Kiss</b>es on <b>noses</b> sent <b>soft</b>ly <b>to</b> bed                  <i>trochee iamb iamb iamb partial</i><br>
Tired <b>and</b> worn <b>to</b> their <b>rooms</b> they <b>would</b> creep      <i>iamb iamb iamb iamb partial</i><br>

Tucked <b>in</b> her <b>cov</b>ers <b>the</b> young <b>an</b>gel <b>said</b>          <i>iamb iamb iamb iamb iamb</i><br>
I <b>love</b> you ma<b>ma</b> <b>then</b> <b>drift</b>ed to <b>sleep</b>             <i>iamb phyrric spondee trochee iamb</i><br>

A<b>lone</b> in <b>the</b> <b>dark</b>ness now <b>just</b> us <b>two</b>              <i>iamb iamb trochee iamb iamb</i><br>
My <b>words</b> <b>soft</b>ly ca<b>ress</b> I <b>love</b> you <b>too</b>             <i>iamb trochee iamb iamb iamb</i><br>

That didn't work out quite right, but regular past is just text, losing the bolding of the accented words as well as the italics on the foot summary.
And don't think program is handling single syllable words as well as it could (here in forced mode).

 

[MickNasty]

Thank you all for the excellent feedback. I've made some changes to meter and tense.

Love from a mother, blessings from heaven
Boundless and selfless identity lost
Born again in the eyes of her children
Always devoted no matter the cost

Such raucous laughter, tears rain down faces
Merciless tickles send children squealing
Escape sweet torture, their jailer chases
Feigns her recapture, giggles revealing

Kisses on noses send them all to bed
Tired and worn to their rooms as they creep
Tucked in her covers, the young angel said
“I love you mama” then drifted to sleep
Alone in the darkness now just us two
My breath whispers softly, "I’ll always love you"

 

[Safe_Bet]

...I decided to try my prototype meter program on it (see below).

Dude, if you ever get the bugs out of that thing, PLEASE let me know. It would slay one of my biggest poetry demons. (as it stands, I wouldn't recognize an iambic pentameter if it walked up and slapped me on the ass = rhythmically challenged white chick! )

 

[Angeline]

okay I worked this over a bit more. I fracking hate the last line. It is so trite. Blah god awful. I don't know how else to say it. The seeds are dead. Nothing will grow. blah


But it never does:

You asked me to bury
our silver rings beside
the door to father's hayloft,
but I never did,

just as you never carried me across
that threshold. It was only in a dream
dream we met: two kids up in the loft,
hiding behind a wall of bales, your hands
under my cotton skirt,

curious. Still, that morning dream
was solid enough to hang our rings upon
back in the kitten-eyed time
where every thing takes on love,
this song, our song, birthmarks counted,
hinges open.

Your bronze-legged statue curls abstractions
as she gives birth to her own arms. They reach out
between legs, grasp tight. There is no amnion,

no blood. We too, deliver ourselves
from metal and dust, climb leaning ladders,
and press too hard into softness.
We cross fingers and promise to bury new rings
in last season's soil as if it could
all mean something again.

I remember this poem. It's better than you think, definitely gets very strong from the third strophe on, but I agree you can do better on those last few lines. I think you are not making the most of line breaks in a few places, too. I'll post the changes I'd make and see what you think. If you think I'm imposing my own style on you too much just ignore my suggestions, but I know fresh eyes can help a lot.

Once you asked me to bury
our silver rings
beneath the hayloft door.
I never did,

just as you never carried me
across a threshold. It was only
in a dream we met: two kids
up in the loft, hiding behind a wall
of bales, your hands curious
under my cotton skirt.

We wished those rings
into our dream
back in kitten-eyed days
when everything was love:
this song, our song,
birthmarks counted,
hinges open.

Your bronze-legged statue curls abstractions.
She gives birth to her own arms. They reach out
between legs, grasp tight. There is no amnion,

no blood. We too, deliver ourselves
from metal and dust, climb leaning ladders,
press too hard into softness.
We cross fingers and promise
to bury new rings
in last season's soil as if we
can recapture a dreamtime
now lost.

Well I'm not sure how much this helps lol, but at least it'll give you another way to look at it. And notice I added that "Once" to the beginning. I think you need something like that because the theme is time-dependent, you know? The other thing that occurred to me is that you might want to add one more strophe (or a few more lines) to contrast "the now" more with "the then." If I were doing that, I think I'd move the stuff from "no blood....softness" up to the previous (really wonderful) strophe, and put the new bit in before "We cross...."

I can't let go of my old poems either. Did you see "Holy," the poem I edited in the confession thread? I originally wrote that in '98, a looong time ago, and part of me thinks it really stinks. But another part of me loves what I was trying to say enough to keep trying with it. Anyway, your poem is really too good to give up on.

 

[Angeline]

Dude, if you ever get the bugs out of that thing, PLEASE let me know. It would slay one of my biggest poetry demons. (as it stands, I wouldn't recognize an iambic pentameter if it walked up and slapped me on the ass = rhythmically challenged white chick! )

No kidding (!) although I can see myself getting crazy from the changes the program would require me to make.

 

[bogusagain]

We cross fingers and promise to bury new rings
in last season's soil as if it could
grow anew, old dreams.


Just a thought.

 

[MickNasty]

Around the Table: Please pass the criticism.

"Not for the Thin-Skinned" with a twist


Rules:

1. Post a maximum of 1 poem per week for review (of course, your first poem is "free" so we can prime the pump.)

2. Give constructive feedback to at least 2 other poems before posting another one.

.
.
.

Okay. Dang. That is a lot of rules. But it is pretty simple.

Pick a poem you want to be better.
Post it.
Read at least 2 poems and give a bit of constructive criticism on both.
Repeat.

OK - I get the rules and I get the reasons. My quandary is that, when it comes to poetry, I'm an idiot. Almost every poem posted here, I don't get. This isn't false modesty nor excuses for non-participation. I really don't get about 95% of what is posted. My brain kinda fizzles and my eyes jump back to the top about 3 times before I sigh and give up.

Asking someone like me to give meaningful feedback on poetry is like asking a three year old to compare and contrast Newton's Laws with General Relativity.

Its not that I'm asking for a "by", its that I truly feel ill equipped to understand what's written, let alone suggest how to improve it.

Ok... fine - it was more of a rant than a question - but you get the drift.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

No kidding (!) although I can see myself getting crazy from the changes the program would require me to make.

To your poetry or your workflow ?
Any advice would be much like that from a person - you could choose to ignore it. Unlike another person, the program's feelings wouldn't be hurt.
If you already type in your programs in something like MS Word, you'd just have to save a text version, run the program, and examine the output in your browser.

Dude, if you ever get the bugs out of that thing, PLEASE let me know. It would slay one of my biggest poetry demons. (as it stands, I wouldn't recognize an iambic pentameter if it walked up and slapped me on the ass = rhythmically challenged white chick! )

This weekend I hope to have the internal dictionaly automatically handle '-ing' words
(new syllable, not accented). '-ed' words are trickier - sometimes a new sylable and at others not.
I think the program is ready to use now - of couse more can be done.
The example looks horrible since the html didn't get rendered in the posting - just shows the code.

 

[Angeline]

To your poetry or your workflow ?
Any advice would be much like that from a person - you could choose to ignore it. Unlike another person, the program's feelings wouldn't be hurt.
If you already type in your programs in something like MS Word, you'd just have to save a text version, run the program, and examine the output in your browser.

<snip>

No lol, I meant me. It would make me crazy because I already have an awful time making up my mind with form poems as to whether I want to be correct per the form or use a word (or phrase) I think gives more to the poem. I think the idea of a program to check meter is wonderful, just as I did with a program The Fool wrote to check order and repetitions in sestinas. But I know myself, and I spend (maybe waste) a lot of time deciding these things when I edit. And the program would give me even more options to decide on because it would be way better than me at finding metrical missteps. But that doesn't mean I don't want it.

 

[loganforester]

Well here's my first poem up for dissection. I don't claim to be good at it so I could use whatever help you can give me. It's supposed to be a curtal sonnet for those who aren't sure. I'll be back later to give my contributions to whoever's poem is still active for discussion.

I remember that look upon her face,
Held in my circuitous memory,
Sliding under my car after she fell
From her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
And guilt became my personal hell.

So was it when my life began to fade.
Cancerous carnivores consume my body
As I lay broken in my bedroom cell.
Now let death be the full price I've paid.
Don't tell.

 

[annaswirls]

Hey Logan, great to see you here!

I have to go look up Curtal Sonnet as I cannot remember their details.

Curtal Sonnet
Eleven-line form invented by Gerald Manley Hopkins, which a rhyme scheme of abcabc dbcdc. The first ten lines are usually but not always written in iambic pentameter, with the eleventh line always being a spondee (two stressed syllables in a row, as in "Watch out!" or "Stop that!")

I assume you are not going for iambic pentameter, or am I wrong on that one? Please advise. As far as the rhyme scheme, it looks great! grrr baby up from his nap, I will be back to do more, I promise

I remember that look upon her face,
Held in my circuitous memory,
Sliding under my car after she fell
From her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
And guilt became my personal hell.

So was it when my life began to fade.
Cancerous carnivores consume my body
As I lay broken in my bedroom cell.
Now let death be the full price I've paid.
Don't tell.

 

[greenmountaineer]

Well here's my first poem up for dissection. I don't claim to be good at it so I could use whatever help you can give me. It's supposed to be a curtal sonnet for those who aren't sure. I'll be back later to give my contributions to whoever's poem is still active for discussion.

I remember that look upon her face,
Held in my circuitous memory,
Sliding under my car after she fell
From her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
And guilt became my personal hell.

So was it when my life began to fade.
Cancerous carnivores consume my body
As I lay broken in my bedroom cell.
Now let death be the full price I've paid.
Don't tell.

I would never let form supersede a compelling narrative. You've got one here.

Cancer and consumption work. "Carnivores" is a stretch for me. It would work if ".. guilt became my personal hell" could better suggest flesh-eating nightmarish demons in the carnivores that consume you.

I also might ask "Must you die to expiate your guilt? If it's only meant to be hyperbole, I still think it's too strong. It seems like some lesser hell would connect better with "Don't tell" which brings the poem to a powerful conclusion.

This is impressive, even if you disagree with my comments. Nicely done. I enjoyed reading it.

 

[annaswirls]

okay here goes:

I remember that look upon her face,
Held in my circuitous memory,
Sliding under my car after she fell
From her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
And guilt became my personal hell.

So was it when my life began to fade.
Cancerous carnivores consume my body
As I lay broken in my bedroom cell.
Now let death be the full price I've paid.
Don't tell.

First, some great phrase choices "circuitous" is a glorious word, almost a combo between circuitry and gratuitous. Another great choice: "cancerous carnivores consume"

Trick is, when you come up with such new and fresh phrases, you can't really put them next to more cliche phrases like "full price I've paid" "personal hell" "deep dark secret" and the only one that stood out as ick the first time I read this was "without a trace"

You can always play with these cliche's by mixing them up a little, making it more of a play on words.

Good news is these are easy fixes. Many ways to say the same thing, if you decide you want to, you can just put together another way.

I like the spondee "Don't tell." They are tricky to write, but this one was perfect for the poem.

You might reconsider your capitalization to follow a regular sentence structure. ie only capitalize the first letter of the line when it is the first letter of a sentence. It helps the lines flow one to another.

I remember that look upon her face,
held in my circuitous memory,
sliding under my car after she fell
from her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
and guilt became my personal hell.


Good luck with the revisions and good for you for really working your craft!

~J

 

[loganforester]

Hey Logan, great to see you here!

I have to go look up Curtal Sonnet as I cannot remember their details.




I assume you are not going for iambic pentameter, or am I wrong on that one? Please advise. As far as the rhyme scheme, it looks great! grrr baby up from his nap, I will be back to do more, I promise

okay here goes:

I remember that look upon her face,
Held in my circuitous memory,
Sliding under my car after she fell
From her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
And guilt became my personal hell.

So was it when my life began to fade.
Cancerous carnivores consume my body
As I lay broken in my bedroom cell.
Now let death be the full price I've paid.
Don't tell.

First, some great phrase choices "circuitous" is a glorious word, almost a combo between circuitry and gratuitous. Another great choice: "cancerous carnivores consume"

Trick is, when you come up with such new and fresh phrases, you can't really put them next to more cliche phrases like "full price I've paid" "personal hell" "deep dark secret" and the only one that stood out as ick the first time I read this was "without a trace"

You can always play with these cliche's by mixing them up a little, making it more of a play on words.

Good news is these are easy fixes. Many ways to say the same thing, if you decide you want to, you can just put together another way.

I like the spondee "Don't tell." They are tricky to write, but this one was perfect for the poem.

You might reconsider your capitalization to follow a regular sentence structure. ie only capitalize the first letter of the line when it is the first letter of a sentence. It helps the lines flow one to another.

I remember that look upon her face,
held in my circuitous memory,
sliding under my car after she fell
from her bike, her life gone without a trace.
This deep dark secret was my enemy
and guilt became my personal hell.


Good luck with the revisions and good for you for really working your craft!

~J

well thanks for your quick response anna.

As far as the meter is concerned, I doubt it's full iambic pentameter although it is a 10 sylable rhyme scheme. My meter reader doesn't work very well so I couldn't consistently tell an Iamb from a Trochee if it was plain as day.

Yeah, I'll agree some of my phrases are a little cliche and can certainly be fixed, the examples you gave are very good ones. Part of my issue is trying to jam a poem into a form, not something I have much experience with.

I'll certainly change the capitalization structure and work on some of those suggested phrases to change. Thanks again.

 

[loganforester]

I would never let form supersede a compelling narrative. You've got one here.

Cancer and consumption work. "Carnivores" is a stretch for me. It would work if ".. guilt became my personal hell" could better suggest flesh-eating nightmarish demons in the carnivores that consume you.

I also might ask "Must you die to expiate your guilt? If it's only meant to be hyperbole, I still think it's too strong. It seems like some lesser hell would connect better with "Don't tell" which brings the poem to a powerful conclusion.

This is impressive, even if you disagree with my comments. Nicely done. I enjoyed reading it.

I certainly was battling the form constraints all the way through the poem. I'm new to form poems so I don't have the feel for where I can bend the rules and still maintain the spirit of the form.

I don't think he has to die to expiate his guilt, but I believe the character is so far down his grief spiral that he believes that. I can see that the level of "hell" that he experiences may not be consistent through the different terms uses and overdone hyperbole in places. I'll try to iron it out with a bit more consistency.

Thanks for your feedback and glad you enjoyed it.

 

[annaswirls]

babe I know all about the issues of jamming a poem into a form. My form poems totally suck. I am finished with that for a while. I hope to return to Survivor someday but I could not take any more

well thanks for your quick response anna.

As far as the meter is concerned, I doubt it's full iambic pentameter although it is a 10 sylable rhyme scheme. My meter reader doesn't work very well so I couldn't consistently tell an Iamb from a Trochee if it was plain as day.

Yeah, I'll agree some of my phrases are a little cliche and can certainly be fixed, the examples you gave are very good ones. Part of my issue is trying to jam a poem into a form, not something I have much experience with.

I'll certainly change the capitalization structure and work on some of those suggested phrases to change. Thanks again.

 

[EroticOrogeny]

well thanks for your quick response anna.

As far as the meter is concerned, I doubt it's full iambic pentameter although it is a 10 sylable rhyme scheme. My meter reader doesn't work very well so I couldn't consistently tell an Iamb from a Trochee if it was plain as day.

Yeah, I'll agree some of my phrases are a little cliche and can certainly be fixed, the examples you gave are very good ones. Part of my issue is trying to jam a poem into a form, not something I have much experience with.

I'll certainly change the capitalization structure and work on some of those suggested phrases to change. Thanks again.

I agree form can be problematic, especially meter.
Even syllable count - you have 2 lines with 11 (6 and 8) and one with 9 (10).
I count and sometimes miss one (now I have a program which tries to do meter, but will certainly count syllables, at least according to standard breakdown). Do you say your poem out loud, or at least try to see how it sounds?
I like the alliteration of 'cancerous carnivores consume' (I'm known to be fond of alliteration), if you went with "cancer's" you'd fix the syllable count, but it still doesn't seem to start out iambic (the preceding line is perfect iambic pentameter).
And I like circuitous, bad things can keep on going around in our minds. None of mine are as bad as that, thankfully.
Overall, I like the poem.

 

[loganforester]

babe I know all about the issues of jamming a poem into a form. My form poems totally suck. I am finished with that for a while. I hope to return to Survivor someday but I could not take any more

Yeah I hear you anna. I'm on a two month survivor poem break as well. The forms were wearing me down. This is actually the last one I wrote.

 

[loganforester]

I agree form can be problematic, especially meter.
Even syllable count - you have 2 lines with 11 (6 and 8) and one with 9 (10).
I count and sometimes miss one (now I have a program which tries to do meter, but will certainly count syllables, at least according to standard breakdown). Do you say your poem out loud, or at least try to see how it sounds?
I like the alliteration of 'cancerous carnivores consume' (I'm known to be fond of alliteration), if you went with "cancer's" you'd fix the syllable count, but it still doesn't seem to start out iambic (the preceding line is perfect iambic pentameter).
And I like circuitous, bad things can keep on going around in our minds. None of mine are as bad as that, thankfully.
Overall, I like the poem.

I took some intentional breaks from the 10 syllables in order to preserve my poem as much as I could. I know it's not 100% on form that way, but it helps make the poem better.

Yeah I do recite my poetry out loud trying to assess the meter but I just don't hear the meter as well as most I suppose. It's the stress unstress part that baffles me.

Thanks for your review, I appreciate all the feedback I can get.

 

[annaswirls]

OK - I get the rules and I get the reasons. My quandary is that, when it comes to poetry, I'm an idiot. Almost every poem posted here, I don't get. This isn't false modesty nor excuses for non-participation. I really don't get about 95% of what is posted. My brain kinda fizzles and my eyes jump back to the top about 3 times before I sigh and give up.

Maybe you need to go back to the top 5 times. Sometimes I do. This is not easy for anyone. Sometimes I come back days later and try again. Did I say it is not easy for anyone? If it looks easy, it is because some people are good at making things look easy.

If things do not make sense to me, I write that. Just say it, that is okay, it counts



Asking someone like me to give meaningful feedback on poetry is like asking a three year old to compare and contrast Newton's Laws with General Relativity.

No, it isn't. You are writing poetry. You are participating. You are in it. You are not some newborn.


Its not that I'm asking for a "by", its that I truly feel ill equipped to understand what's written, let alone suggest how to improve it.

So you really do not understand the poetry at all? It would be very helpful, actually, if you pick one, go through line by line and tell us where you start to not understand. Many of the poems here are very straightforward, and you seem like a smart enough to be able to get them.

Ok... fine - it was more of a rant than a question - but you get the drift.

Truth is, this is how most of us feel or have felt.

You learn how to write, mostly, by reading. By figuring out what other people do, how they do it. By trying to concentrate on the craft.

You cannot get better by just writing and asking for help. You have to sit on the other side of the table.

An no, this is not just me ranting about non-reciprocation, it really isn't. I can understand how a new writer might feel ill equip to give suggestions, but they are wrong.

At any rate, I hope you will change your mind and join in on the interaction. You will be surprised what you will learn, and what you will teach.

~J

 

[annaswirls]

Yeah I hear you anna. I'm on a two month survivor poem break as well. The forms were wearing me down. This is actually the last one I wrote.

Well if you climb out of your hole, please put a hand down for me.... I could use it