reverie

many happy returns to you on this your special day...

Hmm, have reconsidered this stanza some: Today I smelled sweet sadness in a dying rose Sacrificed for love one anniversary You know I think I finally get what you meant by this. I don't always get things on the first, second or even third read. I'm old, brain has to warm up. Yeah, I'm thinking a pause is definitely called for. I was thinking of "one" as a person and not as an occurrence. Normally, I'd suggest breaking it at the line between "love" and "one" since you don't want to use punctuation, but that enjamment plays a little havoc with the rest of the stanza, which could be fixed with punctuation, but that defeats the purpose of not using it in the first place. Oh well, it's not really a big deal. People can parse it out. Anyway on to your question about images. Tangents are good, but you do have to connect the dots for us. And it's not so much that you jump around in this poem as your descriptions are too abstract for me at least to fully grasp your meaning. Stanzas basically are mostly sensory driven Stanza 1: sight used to put together a scene either literal or metaphorical??? Stanza 2: sight and sound blending into feelings/memories? and or wishful thinking? Stanza 3: smell to an emotion Stanza 4: sight used to read other people Stanza 5: emotionally driven feeling although playing on the sense of touch, but it's a stretch. Okay you are covering a lot mental ground here, so you need to keep your readers with you as you hopscotch around. This leads into answering your second question: what do you mean by "thoughts" and "ideas" in the context of poetry Basically, I mean "thoughts" and "ideas" are blunt abstractions that stand in for (or take the place) of the tricky emotions you are trying to describe. It's the old "show don't tell adage," I just hate saying it. Anyway, when I say images speak louder than abstractions, I mean that it is better to try to show the reader what you feel then to tell them the abstract short hand for it. Why? Because abstractions are relative. What's "fun" for me may not be "fun" for you. What's "sad" for me, may not be "sad" for you. Example: I read a book written on the walls of / A dusty room filled with broken memories "Book" kind of bland, but I'm with you. "written on the walls" okay lots images come to mind and none of them probably are what you had in mind. "of a dusty room" alright, a little better the scene is forming, but I'm still kind of digesting how a book would look written on the walls -- you could develop this by saying how they are writing e.g. (all over the walls, hastily scrawled, up and down, finely printed) and that's just how the letter might have looked, not what they might have said. "filled with broken memories" and while I'm still trying to wrap my head the whole book vs. wall thing, it turns out that the room itself is filled with broken memories. Now, at this point "broken memories" is a new idea. Maybe you mean to refer to the written text of the book, but I read it as something else is in the room in additional to the wall-book. And so phrase/sentence ends and Line 2 of the 1st Stanza, and a description of the "toys" and "pictures" is starts in line 3 and four which maybe alluding to the "broken memories" in the room, but frankly I'm still stuck on the trying to visualize the whole wall-book thing. Take heart anyone can get stuck on phrase in poem, no matter how well written the line. Some people just have a bad day interpreting things, other times lines are so garbled that the person has to have an extremely good day in order to discern any meaning out of a single line. It's all relative. Well that was long. It's really hard to do this online. Marking up poems on paper is so much faster. Well for me at least. Hope you got some meaning out of all that. rev...

Hi. Well some of you may know that I've abandoned my MFA (creative writing) aspirations in favor of the ministry. And with me graduating from Uni. this semester, I'll probably won't be a part of any writing workshops well for some time I guess. Still, I was encouraged by my professor to submit a few poems before I called it a day. Lucky me got one more published Cellar Door and another one as a finalist in the NC State Poetry Contest. Still waiting to hear from one local newspaper's contest, but it's nice to know someone other than my friends can stand to read my poetry. rev...

Welcome, Ciri. English major huh? The major you can do anything with or nothing at all. Eh, I can't talk. I'm American Studies, so I'm in the same boat. I'm also a creative writing minor in poetry, so let me know if the feedback I've given you on this poem is too much or not enough. I think "Today" is a good title, although that is quite a lot of images to pack into a single day's mediation. I would say your 2nd stanza starts out the strongest. Watch out for cliches though. You can't get more cliche than a phrases like "filled with broken memories" and "in a dying rose." I would suggest lingering in each image longer and developing them with an eye towards clarity. Developed images speak louder than thoughts. That's not to say you can't have a poem crafted solely around ideas, but even there your language has to be precise. 3rd Stanza, line three: Sacrificed for love one anniversary -- Syntax seems a little off as it relates to the dying rose. Phrasing needs to be tweaked. Or maybe you just need a pause between "love" and "one." Hmm, well you're an English major so you'll probably learn this if you haven't already, but you don't need to capitalize the beginning of each line. It's a nice nod towards tradition, but you'll have more flexibility if you don't follow the old convention. I mean it gives you another tool grammatically. Nice work. Has potential. Keep working on it.

Naw, melanin has something to do with skin pigment. Melatonin is naturally occurring chemical that your body produces to help regulate your sleep cycle. You can buy it over the counter in the U.S. It works great for people that work night shifts or are on submarines. That and it also gives you very intense dreams. However exposer to sunlight probably does trigger its production somehow. Anyway, only problem is the last thing a person with a history of depression needs is an intensified will to sleep. Pretty much, its feels harder to get out of bed when you're on it; sleep feels like a drug. Still, I gave it to my insomniac friend (he's got all kinds of sleep issues from the first gulf war) and he loved it. Said it was the only thing that really gave him a good night sleep, even better than prescription drugs the army gave him.

Howdy. Been a long time stranger. rev...

to each his own...

Internal rhyme is more forgiving. At least I think it is. You can get away with more assonance and consonances like rhymes inside the line than you can with straight end rhyme. neat enough.

More allegory than epic I think. Though you could turn it into one. Although it would be extremely difficult to do so without borrowing heavily from what has come before. Like "Paradise Lost" or "The Divine Comedy." Pretty good. I haven't read Nietzsche, but I can still appreciate it. Wasn't he the one who said God is dead? Anyway, my only criticism without having read the works it was based upon would have to be go easy on the exclamation marks. Someone said poet's only really should use one in their entire life. Come to think of it, it reads more like a list poem to me. Like "Leaves of Grass" or "Howl." rev...

You second stanza is pure gold, but the first could use some minor tweaking. Marcia doesn't sleep so good, not since those pale kids from out of town started (no need to capitalize the phrase as is). Kicking over dustbins (ditto, "kicking" connects line 2 to 3. If you want emphasis more, try italics, quotes, or all caps. Still you would need to justify the emphasis some how). and stealing vinegary kisses round back of the chippy - there is a strange sense of comfort taken when one can feel and smell the seasons starting to change as the pohutakawas in the lane turn parrot-red and you know that going back to the other side of the world is unavoidable, so you take a little longer to look around as you hear the static buzzing around the hot streets. instead, you kick off your jandals and (hmm, maybe should capitalize "Jandals" since you are referring to a specific brand of sandals, maybe...) avoid the newspapers, buddy. when you start running several lives, it's easy to forget what you're in any of them for. (Could do several thing here. Substitute a colon/common for the period or rephrase: "it's easy to forget why you're in any of them" or "it's easy to forget you're in any of them") Marcia plays connect four to help her fall asleep and she doesn't even think of where the world is waking up or that perhaps, maybe, there's a reason why the sun comes up her

Dark the cloud and cold the night, Frail the bones... I like this part, is creative.

Beautifully gentle, but you do seem to have a blind spot for the possessive apostrophe don't you? Soft wonders of the majestic night forever dreaming of the moon's sweet light vibrant colors kept hidden beneath shades dancing delicate agility as they flit among the star-fed flowers painted black eyes ever watching the sky so often their beauty misunderstood these gentle nocturne seekers of the light questing to obtain what they are denied sentenced always to live in the shadow cast always out of the sun's burning light but living instead beneath the moon's glow innocently these nightly visitors bring nightmares upon their soft silent wings.

Not at all bad, could us some proofreading though particularly in the first stanza. Also, could probably nix the last stanza or modify it some. Darkness grows as they shadow on the wall grows (if you do mean "they," then need some sort of pause after it like a common, but I think you mean "the"). stillness hovering in the air while sleep's fingers reach to ensnare and the dreams call to pull you under rev...

Did this begin as a song for you? I mean did you sing it as you wrote it? Honestly I have to put it into a kind of 80s or a bluesy country type thing to hear it as poem. This is not an insult, but as presented it reads more like prose to me than as poem unless I try to superimpose a song on it. Suggestion: If you begin it as a song, try saying it slowly to yourself (don't sing it, we can't hear the same tune as you), and then break your lines where it feels natural or where you would pause in your spoken phrase. Don't worry about meter or rhythm or making all the line lengths line up to a similar length -- those do not matter as much as the natural flow or pacing of one line leading into another. take care, rev...

Mighty fine, indeed. Only suggestion: Old pages crumpled on the floor (either put a colon, common, or dash here OR change "flashes" to "flashed" either way one mark of punctuation won't really take away from its lack in the rest of the poem. It's like the well placed flaw giving perspective/humanity to a figure in a painting). flashes of the news spilled out everywhere

Okay well going off your feedback level, you're looking more for whether or not things are getting in the way of your narration of the story/events. Right? Well let's have a look. Well first off, I'd say condense to single spacing for your couplets though this may be just a web posting error or you're double spacing as people sometimes do in workshops to indicate that this is a draft. Anyway no big deal. Also, you do not have to capitalize every line. You can, and traditionally that's the way it was done long ago, but modern convention allow us poets more flexibility. Still it's a matter of personal preference. Through the mountains did he walk, and upon the wind, did the spirits talk. They spoke of a plea for saviour, (I would say go with "a savior" or "salvation" for syntax/grammar reasons. However you can capitalize "Saviour or Savior," but that would mean you're now speaking about a specific figure such as Jesus or what have you, and you may not want this). A cry so loud and pure. It was this mountain god's eye, Who saw where they lie (Do you mean past tense of present tense here? Could be either, but the"was" in your previous line steers it more towards past tense which would be "lay" instead of "lie," at least I think it would). It was this god's extended grace, That brought relief to their face. Though no longer in pain, The spirits spoke of the coming rain. They spoke of deception and lies They spoke of backs full of knives. Though these men saved, One of many storms they shall brave. (Construction is confusing syntax wise. Takes a bit of figuring to get what you mean. Less is more, when in doubt, write like you speak). As to seek redemption from the pain That their leaders have lain. (Construction is a bit convoluted, but think it should be "laid" since I believe you are referring to the leaders preforming an action on the noun "pain" and not themselves (physically) lying down). -- I'm a little shaky on grammar myself, so could be wrong.

He's got, defective blood. I'd throw a common or something here so it sounds more like "radioactive." from the original. Spins a web, of black lies Hmm, critics don't really lie. That's not to say that they're never wrong, but they do say what they believe for their own reasons (flawed like any other product of humanity). Could try: "to sermonize," but probably not strong enough for your meaning. "terrify/horrify" might work too. Actually, "to cut short" or something like that might work very well, but then you'll have to change up your rhymes to match. Or maybe "scandalize" would work best. Since, I'm detecting more of an anti-tabloid or paparazzi feel to this. Funny.

Neat enough. It floats dreamlike as you intended. Floating toward something unknown swimming with the fish in a cloudless sky (for Rhythmic reasons) Mechanical wings Icarus of the 21st century where the sun keeps on smiling (Interesting personification of sun, am not sure why you choose it? is it only to avoid using "shining?") Glass towers will one day shatter but I rise above in this dream reality (would make more "dream of reality" emphatic by more detailed or longer phrase)

Nice take on the garden myth. Short lines might be limiting you though. I do that sometime. Longer lines might help. Maybe. Good title.

*First section still needs much work, second it much cleaner I think.* Subaru Baja I. It was perhaps the ugliest car I had ever seen, if you could call it car. Not many could. The dealership practically paid my brother to take it off the lot, and damned if he didn't make the best of that bright yellow, four-wheeled abomination. Where I saw an impractically short bed pretending to be backseat, my brother saw only the potential of it—a vehicle in translation, not exactly a car or truck, a hybrid just like us. I just shook my head at the spectacle; well at least he’d never lose it in a parking lot. II. Is it wrong to laugh at a murder trial? To heave under your breath struggling to contain the bubbles of irony that apparently only you can perceive. The lawyers kept asking the same question: How would you describe the vehicle you saw on the evening of February the 15th? The brow of the witness would furrow while his eyes went somewhere else, perhaps he would bite into his lip a little, nodding as he rubbed his chin, and after that measured pause he would reply like the ones who had testified before him, "I'd say it was bright yellow and somewhere between half-a-car and half-truck." I’d turn away from my family trying to remain contained. It seemed everyone in the world had seen your truck that night. Everyone, but the patrol-men fighting over whose jurisdiction your broken body fell under.

If you are wall flower type. Ask questions. If you're not so wall-flowery, let the conversation shift to where it will and let the new people talk.

try fish oil, it's a natural anti-depressant. That and steer clear of melatonin. Works for me. rev...

happy, happy

This is a recasting of a poem I wrote a six years ago called Emerald. 2/26/2008 My Black Irish Girl I met her watching memories on the big screen in the day room: Working class trash via Roseanne Barr. I could recall a few myself, so I sat down to join her, while I folded my laundry. She engaged me the usual social banter shown to new arrivals in the military: So where you coming from? Really, how was it? Think they’ll take me, ‘cause it sucks here? No really, it does. You got a car? Get one. I guess I’ll show you around till then: Movie, bar, or club? Typically, if you could stand each after this, you might as well be friends or something more, since one of you will be moving on soon enough. Later people would say we had a lot in common: both short, same hair: straight black and closely cropped, glasses, and always serious except for when we laughed. We used each other for a Summer. Me to get my bearings on yet another Army Post, and she to cover up that she liked girls; at least that’s what her ex that still loved her told me as well as the friends that I turned against her. Not because she was gay, but because before she had given me hope and that is the cruelest thing you can give someone, when you know that there is none. A year later, I would ran into her while sending off my officer packet to a medical review board in Colorado. I didn’t recognize her with her long hair and piercings, and she laughed at that, taking the packet from me, and then while flipping through it, congratulating me on my accomplishments she said she was heading that way herself, to Colorado because it still sucks here and she had finally gotten out.

many albeit belated, happy returns to you on this your special day.