To keep the review thread clean...

[PatCarrington]

Tears on a Red Oak is another solid effort by PatCarrington. A lush homage to trees and by proxy, the circle of all things living. This is not his best effort, and one that could to with some pruning. But even then it still kicks ass. And on the other hand, maybe it should be allowed to grow just as wild as the trees it's about?

[color=228822]You grew together, burning in the sun,
using the pleasant shade, sparkling
with royalty and wearing the leaves
of his rounded crown to sit and court
a sky-eyed princess to marry.[/color]

#L

liar,

thanks for the mention. your point on pruning is well-founded.

patrick

 

[BooMerengue]

BooMerengue goes iambic. The Fall is a villanelle, or something similar - I can never tell those thingamabobs apart. Whatever it is called, it is one of those terribly restraining forms in which you (read 'I') simply can not write good poetry. But she does. Here is a strong, poignant story told with a tangibly rich language, flirting with (but never actually becoming) hyperboles. It has, through the chills of what's told, a very warm and distinct style that has become Boo's signum in my eyes.

[color=228822]One cannot know what depths a soul may seek.
The days unwinding leaves its tortured mark
As night looks on, yet does not dare to speak.

This wearied traveller, though his heart is weak
Will stumble blindly, groping in the dark.
One cannot know what depths a soul may seek.[/color]


Thank you for the mention, Liar! I DID work hard on this and the feedback and comments showed. But can someone show me where the meter is off? I can't find it, and I have plans for this; it has to be perfect!

Thanks everyone for your kind words- they make me want to go try another!

 

[Angeline]

BooMerengue goes iambic. The Fall is a villanelle, or something similar - I can never tell those thingamabobs apart. Whatever it is called, it is one of those terribly restraining forms in which you (read 'I') simply can not write good poetry. But she does. Here is a strong, poignant story told with a tangibly rich language, flirting with (but never actually becoming) hyperboles. It has, through the chills of what's told, a very warm and distinct style that has become Boo's signum in my eyes.

[color=228822]One cannot know what depths a soul may seek.
The days unwinding leaves its tortured mark
As night looks on, yet does not dare to speak.

This wearied traveller, though his heart is weak
Will stumble blindly, groping in the dark.
One cannot know what depths a soul may seek.[/color]


Thank you for the mention, Liar! I DID work hard on this and the feedback and comments showed. But can someone show me where the meter is off? I can't find it, and I have plans for this; it has to be perfect!

Thanks everyone for your kind words- they make me want to go try another!

There are some good sites on line to help you make sure you get iambic stresses right. I'll find you a few tonight. I'd do it for you myself, but I kinda suck at traditional poetic rhythms--I can get the syllabification right, but not always the stresses. Then again, I don't entirely care, lol. I refuse to sacrifice language I love for the form. If you're submitting the poem to a form poetry journal though, it should be correct.


A.

 

[BooMerengue]

Thanks, Hot Lips! lol

I went thru the whole thing and did the light/dark thing to each syllable... it all matched.

I'll appreciate all the help I can get.

 

[WickedEve]

Hi. I'm covering Fridays for now. One of my kids was sent home early because she threw up. Or according to Katy, "Mommy, I went BLAHH! in the classroom." So, now I have to take her to the doc. I will try very hard to do the reviews later today, maybe even tonight. Sorry they will be so late. If anyone wants to jump in and recommend a poem, feel free.

 

[Angeline]

Hi. I'm covering Fridays for now. One of my kids was sent home early because she threw up. Or according to Katy, "Mommy, I went BLAHH! in the classroom." So, now I have to take her to the doc. I will try very hard to do the reviews later today, maybe even tonight. Sorry they will be so late. If anyone wants to jump in and recommend a poem, feel free.

I'll do them for you, but only because I'm incredibly relieved that I didn't have to deal with anyone throwing up today.

 

[Liar]

Thanks, Hot Lips! lol

I went thru the whole thing and did the light/dark thing to each syllable... it all matched.

I'll appreciate all the help I can get.

I read it again, and I found no real flaws.

Only two things that can be read as such: 'Traveller' is 3 syllables to some and 2 to some. Also, to stress the third syllable on 'sharpening' sounds a little odd. Can be my accent though.

#L

 

[WickedEve]

I'll do them for you, but only because I'm incredibly relieved that I didn't have to deal with anyone throwing up today.

Thank you. I just now got home. I ended up having to take both kids to the doctor.

 

[Angeline]

Ange forgot (I wonder why) one of the very best poems of the day.

So here Memory Like Skin it is.

es to you, sweet Angeline.

es back atcha, sister.

 

[Tathagata]

es back atcha, sister.

That aroused me

 

[Angeline]

That aroused me

It's because you were already thinking about it, lol.

Mona Lingual

 

[Tathagata]

It's because you were already thinking about it, lol.

Mona Lingual

LOL
ummmmmmm
yeah so??

Mona Rail

 

[Angeline]

LOL
ummmmmmm
yeah so??

Mona Rail

just stating the obvious.

Mona Type

 

[PatCarrington]

I counted 26 new poems today. These are the ones that I liked best.

Grandma’s Vines by PatCarrington is just good in every way, up to and including a perfect ending. Pat writes poetry that is lush with image and metaphor. It’s very sensuous stuff, his writing, and a gift to the reader who is so easily afforded the sight, taste, feel of his words.

Digits gnarled and knotted
like mature Italian grapevines,
her purple veins are the juice
of time and precision
flowing from her spouts
and their knobbed knuckles,
skin shaded by Tuscan plums
and wrinkled with its figs.


Ange

thank you kindly, ange

 

[Angeline]

Good morning, everyone! It's a fine day to read poetry, and I have some good ones to tell you about!

...........

Lunchtime at Angeline's is like nowhere else... Listen to the 12 O'Clock Muse

And then Ange takes us to Lodz on a journey of validation that takes us back in time;
With these words
"There is no offering but this
to validate your existence."
they will exist forever, Ange. How beautifully heartbreaking this is- making a history lesson so
personal.

Go read, vote and comment!

Thank you Boo. Lodz is, of course, real. One of the hardest parts of having that ancestry is never knowing whether any of your ancestors actually survived or not--unlikely, but possible. Sometimes I walk down the street and look at people and wonder if they are the descendents of my great-grandparents. I've tried to find out through various resources, but my grandfather's name was changed when he came to America and their actual Polish name was a common one for that area of the country, so I never could find out. I've had that poem for a while and never knew when or where to post it, but today seemed like the right day to go for it.

And if you wanted lunch with me on the day 12 O'Clock Muse was written, you'd have to sit in my car and split my Diet Coke cause that's where the poem came to me.


Ange

 

[Guest]

Frosted Moon by Tristesse is packed with imagery "I have watched her dance beside me
as I ride through the trees" I love this!

Thank you for your review, Boo, you're very kind.

 

[Liar]

And then Liar gives us some HOT erotica in Half Moon Spell
my favorite...
"between a raven black sky
and a crimson black sea." Those lines seem to be another magical poem starting, imho.

Thank's, o Boo.

between a raven black sky
and a crimson black sea
veils made of moonlight
catch the breeze of etenity
to push blue crystal cups
the frailest of vessels on

they carry careful across
plunging abyss depths
most precious passengers
the scattered and battered
shards of hope, broken hearts
whose leaking implications
shines like lantern becaons

so they can follow eachother
through the nescient night
on this faithless balance act
between above and below
to forge and fuse new bonds
and boundaries, come sunrise

 

[BooMerengue]

Thank's, o Boo.

between a raven black sky
and a crimson black sea
veils made of moonlight
catch the breeze of eternity
to push blue crystal cups
the frailest of vessels on

they carry careful across
plunging abyss depths
most precious passengers
the scattered and battered
shards of hope, broken hearts
whose leaking implications
shines like lantern beacons

so they can follow each other
through the nescient night
on this faithless balance act
between above and below
to forge and fuse new bonds
and boundaries, come sunrise

Oh, Liar!! That's lovely!

Will you post that? Can I put it in my fav's? Can I just steal it?

*swoon

*melt

*eyelids flutter

*crumple

*sprawl

*sigh

*thump

*fade to black

 

[BooMerengue]

Thank you for your review, Boo, you're very kind.

I'm not kind, Tris. Thats a good poem!

(I can BE kind, but then I'd have to bill you!)

 

[BooMerengue]

I read it again, and I found no real flaws.

Only two things that can be read as such: 'Traveller' is 3 syllables to some and 2 to some. Also, to stress the third syllable on 'sharpening' sounds a little odd. Can be my accent though.

#L

Thanks, Liar- you're right. Traveler is 2 syllables to me; sharpening is 3. I see your point.

Think I could spell traveler 'travler'? nahhhh....

or trav'ler? huh?

 

[Liar]

Thanks, Liar- you're right. Traveler is 2 syllables to me; sharpening is 3. I see your point.

Think I could spell traveler 'travler'? nahhhh....

or trav'ler? huh?

Naah indeed. To me, traveller can be read as either 2 or 3, so that works just fine.

The problem with 'sharpening' isn't the count, but the stressing of the syllables. 'Sharpening', to empasise the last syllable, sounds unnatural. What I want to say is 'sharpening'

#L


ps. Thanks for the...um...flutter.

 

[tungtied2u]

New Poem Reviews Sunday 9/26

Good morning all.....I think I'm counting 16 new poems today!

That's a pretty manageable number, but I'm going to work in a little while, and want to do them justice.....

so if y'all can wait.....I'll be back later this evening with my reviews.

In the meantime.....read them all yourselves, comment and vote...and if you see one that's special, or really moves you....go ahead and SAY SOMETHING- feed your fellow poets!

Be back later.......be beautiful!!!

 

[annaswirls]

Thank you ttu for your comments and for your time in doing the reviews. It is a big committment, and we appreciate your efforts.

I am not quite sure what you looking for in a tutor, or what you need tuted, if it is being insane, maybe I can help you out.

 

[Tathagata]

Thank you, Anna, for the mention and kind words

 

[PatCarrington]

~
PatCarrington © has proven to be an impressive poet here at lit, and today's offering might just be my favorite. I have been on this bridge, clinking my wedding ring against it's metal railing. I never felt this experience being shared before. Hopefully it touches you as well. It would be hard to imagine how it wouldn't.

Brooklyn Bridge Goodbyes

quote:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
dark
slippings and spillings of the heart,
delaying our intercourse
with apology, postponing
my adultery with stories
she cannot tell, secrets poured
from cathedrals like confessions,
from newsstands where lovers
left her dry, looked and teased
and turned away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thank you, anna.