Poetry Forum

superlativedeleted - all messages by user

2/10/2019 5:33:01 AM
You are a beautiful song that rings in my heart	I would take out the last line. consider rewriting as a ghazal. The refrain would be: our love floats in the air - or - only you and me in this world's musk - or - you are my evening sky, my muse of the dusk. Read Rumi for inspiration. Good start. Keep going! Please post your second draft. I'd love to read this as a ghazal. edited by superlativedeleted on 2/10/2019
2/10/2019 5:42:21 AM
You are a beautiful song that rings in my heart	please see my feedback for this poem in the Be Gentle forum. Would love to see it rewritten as a ghazal.
2/10/2019 6:46:41 AM
Sons of Eden	Holy Abel could have killed, if he'd had a sword. Holy Abel could have killed, if he'd loved the Lord. Holy Abel never thought to craft a shining blade intended for his Brother's death. Instead, was rams he gave. Only Cain dreamed so dark to win God's love through force. Proving that he loved God best, he killed without remorse. And when God came upon the scene where Abel lay in blood, and saw his eyes as soft as lambs that gazed at crimson suds, He must have known at once was Cain that came with fire and sword to steal the love God freely gave but sin could not afford. And even then, God cradled Cain for the sake of the world to come, and told him that he loved him best until his life was done. edited by superlativedeleted on 2/10/2019 edited by superlativedeleted on 2/10/2019
2/10/2019 7:45:41 AM
Please critique. Excuse format plz	I really like this poem. There are many poems about internal anguish, BUT... yours doesn't attempt to manipulate the reader, and it expresses the anguish with original phrases and images and metaphors. Stapling the mask to one's face is an amazingly fresh description, and extending the image of the suffering to choking on the blood. Together they express a believable and coherent riddle that shows the how layered the pain of wearing the mask is, not just the pain the mask is trying to hide, but the pain of putting on the mask, then the pain of having to live with the fact the mask has both been put on and made the pain unresolvable through concealing it. You could play with experimental line breaks like: Outward- ly I may appear mild- ly angry. Inside an in- ferno rage- s. In my head the voice- s whis- per, and I fight what they tell me, I blare music to drown it out. Alone, I fight as always. I can't trust any- one enough to let them in. I play ... (etc...) normally i wouldn't suggest ending a line mid-word, but it makes an interesting tension, an energy that might reflect the struggle or madness the persona is expressing. Just something to play with, if you like. The goal isn't merely emphasis and word play, but also for the unnatural breaks and unexpected pauses to act like the quick shallow breaths one takes when panicked - if the rhythm of the line breaks works in tricking the reader into enacting the rhythm of panic, the physicality of the reading itself should draw them into the poem. There is a trick some psychologists use to physically induce empathy, to experience the emotional state of their client, and this trick is to mirror the depth and pacing of their clients breathing. If you can use your linebreaks like that, it could be very powerful. best wishes edited by superlativedeleted on 2/10/2019 edited by superlativedeleted on 2/10/2019 edited by superlativedeleted on 2/10/2019
2/10/2019 8:37:17 AM
Seriously... Examine my poems under a microscope..	If you wish to seriously pursue your poetry, I strongly urge you to seek out local poetry workshops/ writer's groups to develop your writing with. If your city or state has a poet laureate try to contact them to see if they give workshops. Always, always, always read more poetry than you write. Read the best poems you can find. The quality of the poems you read will seep into your own writing and will influence your habits and values as a writer. If you spend all your time reading beginner poetry, that is what you will think is good, and that is as far as you will go. Start at the top. Develop good habits first.
2/17/2019 10:20:20 PM
Don't hold back ;)	There is really no experience here for the reader to have. The subject is not necessarily poorly chosen, though. Although the subject is left rather undefined. What I would do is write a second draft, and pretend you are a newspaper reporter. Not an ordinary reporter, but a special kind of reporter that speaks in poetry. The author has had an experience, and now she has the opportunity to recreate that experience for the reader, not exactly perhaps, but filtered through the poet's unspoken insight edited by superlativedeleted on 2/17/2019
2/21/2019 8:06:47 AM
looking for honest criticism on short poem	If I were going to edit this, I'd chop a lot: Quite mad I cry for you in the dark. Still, I feel the fears of an unquelled baby longing for its mother. you've chosen good metaphors, so dont slow down the poem explaining them. good metaphors not only speak for themselves, but are able to speak the language of silence, just as a lover's gaze. explaining what the metaphors mean allows the reader the option to be lazy, waiting for it all to be spelled out. Leaving them a riddle of the heart gives them not only something to do, but asks them to give life to the poem because they must actually imagine it, imagine themselves experiencing it to understand it. the only other thing i would suggest is to make a goal of beginning and ending lines with meaningful words, thematically significant words. edited by superlativedeleted on 2/21/2019
2/21/2019 8:41:34 AM
FFXXVI	the poetic themes I'm able to discern in your piece are: waiting for love to return, though suspecting it won't; wanting forgiveness; searching for meaning, wanting things to have purpose so one doesn't feel empty handed i think these themes are good, very human. I think the fact it is addressing someone that isn't the reader takes away a lot of its power. there are exceptions to this, of course, but writing a poem to someone other than the reader runs the risk of making the reader a third wheel. Exceptions to this might be when the writer actually wishes the reader to possess a persona in the poem to form an emotional dynamic with the voice, such as: you took your first steps today. I don't know where life is taking us, but I want you to know I will always be with you. - or something like - you would have loved the flowers. Okay maybe not, but at least it didn't rain. There's nothing more depressing than an ocean of black umbrellas beneath a grey sky. I would rewrite your poem addressing an implied third character that allows the reader to enter the poem. Imagine your sitting on a bench at a bus stop, a la Forest Gump, the reader comes and sits down next to you, and you need forgiveness so badly, you're hoping that if you tell your story to this stranger somehow you'll be freed by their compassion and understanding. Dont describe the character you're talking to at all, just let it be there: I've been waiting for her ever since she left. don't know if she'll ever forgive me, but maybe you might... -or- I don't know what this all means, do you? There's gotta be something about it, something that gives life meaning. Maybe I'm crazy for waiting so long, but how can I just give up? Could you? these aren't great examples cause it's more just a prose soliloquy with poetic line breaks. But that's the general feel. Having a moment with the reader while you figure life out, what it means to wait, what about the waiting gives life purpose.
2/21/2019 9:10:22 AM
Precious Grandma	There is no poem posted
2/21/2019 11:38:12 PM
More Than This WIP	Wow. Well... The strongest part is the originality of the metaphor, and the originality of using these images to communicate lust, jealousy, desire. Another strength is your lack of hesitancy in exploring visceral images to communicate your theme. If you're not already familiar with her, you might enjoy Ai's poetry. Another strength is that you don't only rely on images, but the kinesthetic sense. in fact your images seem to be diving boards to jump into the pool of kinesthetic sensation, which is a great approach. The ambivalence of the temptation, and the jealousy adds some nice layers to it. Though, i think there needs to me more clarity between the jealousy and the lusting for something that cant be had. There is definitely a haunted quality about the poem, as if it were written by the ghost of one of Jeffrey Dahmer's victims. I think it could do with some editing or reorganizing lines maybe, something to tighten it up.
2/23/2019 5:59:03 PM
Tear it to shreads	I think it is a very difficult poem to enter. The theme seems to be mortality. I think this good. A really solid formula for many poems is to choose two from Life, Love, Death, then describe some sort of yearning or enjoyment that shows the two existing concurrently, either in contrast with each other or as a form of ambivalence or in unison with each other as some sort of revelation or joy of unity. it doesn't have to be larger than life always. finding the extraordinary in the ordinary is another powerful thing. the voice of the persona is very journalistic, which I find appealing as a solid foundation, a good skeleton. the poem references multiple senses, such and sound and kinesthetic. However, I think they would be stronger with more concrete descriptions. For example, in stanza 1 you mention harmonics, but choosing something specific like an organ (perhaps too cliche), or whale song floating through the deep, or church bells, or windchimes, perhaps the ring of a mason's hammer striking an iron chisel as he carves a mausoleum or headstone, etc... flesh out the stanza a bit and give you more details and dimensions to capture mood or imply emotion and personality of the persona. The first line is a little awkward because the title is about dance and the first stanza is about sound. it's not entirely clear if the It that is closing in is the dance, the sound, or Death itself. In the end they might all be the same thing, but i think in the beginning at least the reader needs to know what they are experiencing. There is also a bit of a contradiction between the description of a harmony in the first stanza and the ring in the second stanza. A ring seems to be like a single sound, but a harmony is many sounds. perhaps there are a variety of unexpected sounds related to the theme that form a larger than life harmony, though they are not actually present with each other: the sound of a screeching train, the ring of the mason's mallet, the chime of a clock, windchimes hanging lifeless in the wind, the sound of silence within... you have the opportunity to create an orchestra of sounds if you wish. if you are careful to let them speak with themselves, or describe artfully, they will establish a collective power that each does not have on its own. a skeleton of sounds. i think using a collective of sounds will easily let you transition between the external sounds that represent the larger than life universal mortality, and the inner sounds that represent personal mortality of the persona. If you are speaking about both universal and individual mortality, clarity will necessary so we know when we are focusing in from the big picture. Describing mortality as seductive is a great way to get at the persona's relationship with mortality without being maudlin. I think referring to bones as limbs without any flesh is unnecessary. If you combine the line about seduction with a simplified version of the limbs without flesh stanza, it could come to life a bit: Bones coax, twists and turns, calculated movements, their seduction overpowering, gestures given to many before myself. It is time for our dance. But what is keeping my arm dangling by my side... This may not be in keeping with your style, but I think it demonstrates clarity, perhaps. it focuses on the image of a dancing skeleton, that the dance is an invitation, and condenses the details close together, and immediately juxtaposes the moment of invitation with the moment of hesitation: which illustrates life and death and the ambivalence of feeling death's invitation, but secretly yearning for life, which may be the strongest poetic element of the theme, that yearning for life is so deep an instinct it is beyond the conscious control of the persona. the yearning for life is its own entity, its own power, not just equal to Death, but greater than it, even without lifting a finger. it is stillness (when called to death) conquering stillness. it seems the dance is the stillness of the persona as mortality circles it and tempts. all in all i think you have a strong start. focus on clarity (clear images) and specific sensory details. Well done. Keep going. ;
2/26/2019 7:22:37 AM
BE BRUTAL: ALL COMMENTS WELCOMED	I think the line comparing the holes in the shoes to the size of medals is brilliant because it's a really unique simile that on it's own would not have much meaning, but you've created the context of the persona being a veteran, so it very smartly picks up that element of the theme and tangibly associates it with the situation of homelessness. I like the way you've bookended the poem with the image of a person under the overpass holding a sign. it works well to give a sense that the person holding the sign is the first and last thing the reader sees as they drive by in the poem, and that the body of the poem is unpacking everything contained in that brief moment. Contrasting the brevity of the physical moment with the complexity of everything that moment represents both in the present and historically i think is very good indeed. in fact, I would say expand. a lot more. this is a moment to show the person driving by EVERYTHING and the kitchen sink. Beneath the underpass the persona only gets what is given, but here, in the poem, the person driving by has given their EAR. The reader is no longer simply driving by, they are a passenger as the person beneath the underpass drives them through all the things they can't see from their own car. Go all out. This is a moment to show them things they can't imagine on their own. The details of homelessness you give are perfectly valid. However, I suspect they are details one could imagine on one's own. But, it is the simile of the holes in the shoes to medals that gives it power and life. I think you could give this poem rocket fuel by comparing the life of homelessness with life in the military. Maybe the cars that drive by without stopping are like helicopters flying over a wounded soldier and don't see he's there as he cries out for help. Maybe the speakers knows a vet who got good care in a V.A. clinic but now the only needles he sees are for heroine. You could get really, really intimate with comparing the present situation and tying it directly to the past. We need to see more of the veteran side of the poem. Take what you did with the holes in the shoes and the medals and do. it. to. everything. Really great beginning. Go all the way! Thanks for sharing. Good luck.
3/2/2019 6:44:55 PM
The Stylite	yes, yes, yes. really very good. The journalistic quality of presenting the scene without manipulating the reader or speaking at the reader with opinions or judgements is very good. You create a scene for the reader to experience, one the reader is free to enter. You understand that poetry is a form of storytelling. the scene has the spice of something unusual, an invitation to discover something new. the subject is appealing, and we witness what he loves, the intensity of his yearning, and the tragic reality of mortality. good, good, good. Life, Love/ Yerning-passion, and Death are the Holy Trinity of all poems. Shakespeare's hero/ines and villains were all so compelling because there was no doubt that they loved life passionately, but each knew exactly what they were willing to die for. Your end rhymes are softened nicely by using them in the middle of phrases or using slant rhyme. Something to consider is whether or not the image and situation is clear without the preface. The preface has a stage in "casual" settings such as at readings or blogging, but were the poem to appear in print without the preface, the reader is left to its own literary honor to look up what a stylite is exactly. The casual reader won't; the devoted reader would. There are enough clues in the poem, I think to piece together a general idea, but I would share it would those who don't understand what a stylite is to get a better feel for if there us enough there. I think either way the emotional impact will stand on it's own, unless the reader is truly confused about the subject. I think the word circumspect is being misused here. Maybe you intended circumscribe? Line 5 maybe experiment with the following change: On one leg he stands, arms held high... legged just has the weird issue of the d sound at the end. On one leg sounds cleaner, though on isn't a very impactful first word for the line. Clenched closed is a bit of a knot to unravel. It's redundant. It seems you were attracted by the consonance of the "cl" cluster, and possibly the assonance between deaf and clench. The word play between clenches and the next line about holding his mind with his teeth is very good. it implies the image of him clenching his teeth without literally saying so, and unifies that image with the description of the abstract action of taking hold of his mind. Deconstructing an image by separating its verb and related noun is definitely an advanced technique. (another fun one is deconstructing sensation by separating an adjective and a kinesthetic verb, like cool and melting.) If you decide to choose one, chose clenches. Now... Held bound... is an even bigger knot. It tiptoes towards redundancy, but I think it is attempting to illustrate an ambivalence about his spiritual pursuit, that it lifts him up and sustains him, but he also bound by it because without it he wouldn't survive the feat. He's set on a course he can't turn back from. I think this ambivalence is best explored by adding stanzas to show the pursuit from different angles, to show the complexity. If at the end, you still like Held bound better, at least hyphenate it, using the kenning convention. Going a bit deeper, there is a subtle issue regarding him being deaf to the world but still needing to steel himself against temptation. I bet someone up on such a lofty pedastle sees and hears quite a bit, sees and hears EVERYTHING he's chosen to renounce for his faith. The vast banquet of temptation is spread before him, all of his opportunities to satisfy himself with a worldly life literally passing him by as he moves closer and closer to salvation/death. I think describing him as being deaf to the world is cheating you out of opportunities as the author to explore the deepest levels of the human experience of solitary confinement on a sacred pillar. the poetic question arises, is it saintly to be deaf to the world, or to be burdened with all the temptations and remain resolute. sort of like is it courage to never be afraid or to be afraid and persevere. I'm reminded of Mother Teresa's letters that were discovered in which she doubted the existence of God and salvation. Yet she did her work. What must it be like to live on a pillar and see your soulmate walk by everyday, and everyday to have to make the choice to be devote or to go live a mortal life of love? To see children run by and to know he'll never be a father. Or to see a dear friend be robbed and to only be able to call for help and pray. Or to see the church catch fire and to know you cannot help. There is a whole world in this poem waiting for you to explore. Open it. Open it. Open it. Let it spread its own wings. (You state it is a lyric poem. it's my understanding that lyric poems are written in first person, so I'm not entirely sure in what way you're using this description.) edited by superlativedeleted on 3/2/2019 edited by superlativedeleted on 3/2/2019
3/7/2019 2:46:15 PM
Dreams by Bob Atkinson	cool. sounds like critiquing is irrelevant. carry on.
3/9/2019 9:04:34 PM
Venting about personal bs. Critiques welcome.	Blades grate chunks of cabbage scattered on the counter like pallid moss. Choose a duck, its flesh dry and red, and seasoned, its broken neck rigid in the stainless noose. It looks so good in the window, even better in broth, on my spoon, tender and ready to chew.
3/10/2019 10:41:55 PM
Caprice 1/venting 2; critiques welcome	The stars are not so far. You may pluck them like berries, and pop them in your mouth and they will twinkle on your tongue, or you can put them in your pockets like candies, or carry them home in a handkerchief. Remember to roll up your slacks as you stand in the river of wind, your bare feet clutching the grass as you reach. Night makes you taller than the street lamps as you stroll farther and farther from bed, your head about to bump the moon. The Earth does not feel your weight as it spins through the darkness unable to reach the end, just spinning and spinning through darkness, meteors flying past it like warning shots as meteorites penetrate its airy flesh. And it spins as fast as it can trying to stay out of the way but unable to escape, blue and beautiful, a jewel the rocks will never celebrate as they collide in space in "hoorays" of dust and silent booms. Blue jewels are not gems in space they are freaks, forever squirreling around the sun, as the galaxy goes on, twinkles on, spiraling down the cosmic drain of a big black hole --- edited by superlativedeleted on 3/10/2019 edited by superlativedeleted on 3/10/2019
3/11/2019 9:44:07 AM
Critique, an Invitation	Let your words come like leeches sucking bad blood from the body of my work. Swell with pride excising disturbing humors. Ill, I have come, and arm-bare, begging to be saved. Open a vein, young apothecary. There is plenty of humor to spare. I do not mind the mending knife, the fire of its kiss only brightens my chances of living. I do not mind the gluttony of innocent words as they draw away the poison. Fever throbs in my ears. Cure me. edited by superlativedeleted on 3/11/2019
3/15/2019 1:09:21 PM
in search of unrestricted feedback	I think it might help to deconstruct the poem and look at the parts. So the main image is the lovers in bed, wrapped together in a blanket. The extended metaphor you've chosen is a chrysalis/coccoon. The poetic theme you're focusing on is transformation, specifically the transformative power of intimacy, in this case expressed in a physical mode. There are the ambient details such as lighting and silence The only real contrast in the poem is contrasting the implied din of physical passion with the silence afterwards. You've chosen a physical object for the metaphor of the chrysalis. It's comparing a tangible detail to another tangible detail to touch on the theme of transformation. Another option is to NOT compare the blankets to a chrysalis directly, but describe it similarly in a circumscribed way, and use the metaphor of the chrysalis for something INTANGIBLE like the afterglow: within the shelter of the white blanket, their love grew in the chrysalis of their passion. So it would be using the tangible detail of the blanket to keep the poem grounded (letting the blanket just be the blanket), using the tangible metaphor of the chrysalis to ground the abstract detail of passion, and using the words shelter and grow to create a thematic context tie blanket, chrysalis, and passion all together into one structure. I would spend time meditating on what a chrysalis is, or rather what it gives, how does it feel to be inside one. one is that experience like. Words like shelter, grow, and even safety come to mind easily, but I'm sure there are others. It might also feel restrictive, claustrophobic, or it could be peaceful, relaxing knowing that nothing more be done other than be patient. The chrysalis can be just as complex and ambivalent as the human experience, or it can be romantic and sweet too. Whatever you decide to do with the chrysalis, explore ALL of its emotional dimensions, all the things it could be, as this will give you options ready at your fingertips for whatever asks to be written. The part that I struggle with simply using the blanket to chrysalis metaphor in a tangible to tangible relationship is a real chrysalis only has one thing in it. Using the tangible to tangible metaphor sets up the expectation that the blanket will only have one tangible thing in it, but in this case there are two. A chrysalis does not make two things one. A chrysalis transforms one thing, or allows one thing to grow Using the the intangible to tangible mode allows you to designate their passion as the chrysalis, and offers the convenience of not trying to fit more than one thing in it. In the blanket there are two things. In the passion there is one. By allowing each to be what it is, the contrast will emphasize the unity rather than belie it. The sex is a physical metaphor for the intangible unity, it allows the expression of a unity that is not physically possible (though I suppose a child is the literal actualization of the physical unity). I would remove the lines from Light to wind about the pupa. It was so literal it jarred me out of the scene and i was no longer certain if the passion was a metaphor for a real pupa or if the pupa was intended to be the metaphor. I would take out the description of the lamp light. I would take out Shh. I would take out "ill it would be ill". I would open the poem with a stronger line. Maybe: Lovers lay in the quiet or Loud passion satisfied or Loud passion satisfied, lovers lay in the quiet something like that. 'Loud' is a weighty syllable, a diphthong and a voiced consonant to close the syllable (a weight of 3 morae). 'Passion' begins with a plosive consonant (as in explosive), and the sa- in satisfied carries the 'a' sound, giving it staying power, and the sh sound in passion and the s sounds in satisfied do hungry things with the teeth. If you wish to keep the description of lighting, begin simply with: Lovers lay in the lamplight. which has good alliteration with the 'l' sounds. It's unnecessary to say the lamplight is soft, because we feel the softness with the 'l' sounds. We know is is not the harsh corpse-like light of a streetlamp. So you could do: Loud passion satisfied lovers lay in the lamplight Immediately there is contrast, the weight and force of the first line transforms into something softer in the second line. (contrasting the sound this way is thematic. It will be rare people will notice it, perhaps, but it is expressing the theme through use of sound.) The 'l' in loud is no longer overshadowed by the force of physical passion, but takes centerstage in the quiet glow, and then you are on your way into the rest of the poem. Let things speak for themselves, and use the craft to showcase the best of what they have to say. Don't explain; say it plain, but plain can still be beautiful. (always read your work aloud as you write, unless you're in a workshop hahaha.) edited by superlativedeleted on 3/15/2019
3/15/2019 2:30:32 PM
critique please	I must confess to feeling like a cat peering at the shadows of fish. I want to clap my paw through the surface, and curious, pull each out of the trembling waves of light. There are a lot of doors in your poem, but you don't open them. That's okay. If you want to explore going deeper with the poem, here are some ideas. Tears, streaming down a face, get used in poems ALOT. What the author is expressing is important enough that it deserves unique expression. I would remove this line for the moment, and only add it back in at the very end if you feel all other attempts at expression have failed to be more effective than it. The line I connected the most with was "this circus called love". I would be interesting to take the environment of the circus and tell the same emotional story entirely in the environment of the circus. The themes in your poem are grief, trust, betrayal, hiding rage, putting on a happy face, self-deprication, feeling like a fool, not having a voice/ not being heard, unfulfilled passion. A circus offers so many characters to express these with. Also the contrast of the audience being there to enjoy the show, overlooking the suffering that is right in front of their faces because they want to believe everything is okay, believe the painted faces, believe the fake smiles. They don't want to look, or are too far away to see, into the eyes of the elephant that is powerful enough to bring down the whole tent but is who is chained with grief and despair. They cheer and applaud and give a reverant awe to the lion tamer that provokes and mocks the roar of those taken from the freedom if the grass and kept in cages. There are the trapeze artists whose lives depend on the one who will catch them and keep them safe. Maybe using the circus as a metaphor would distract too much? May it gives more room? Sometimes if we give ourselves enough cover we can be brutally honest about things. Having a single extended metaphor would also help focus the energy of the poem. Metaphors can be used in fundamentally in two different ways: to clarify, and to obscure. Sometimes obscuring what is literally going on can make room for a deeper insight into the dynamic of what's going on, so sometimes obscurity and clarity go hand in hand, other times obscurity stands alone. It's not entirely clear what's going on in the poem. The intangible side is very present, but the only tangible aspect of the poem are surrealist details. Even if it were something as simple as a woman putting on her makeup at the beginning of the day having a inner thoughts, there would be a tangible component, though it might run the risk of tiptoing into prose: She leaned into the mirror cleaning her mascara. Thick red lipstick, she painted her lips practicing and repracticing the smile that hid the pain. Careful, she cleaned the red from her teeth, so no one could see her rage. She blotted everything bleeding into the tissue, a stain thrown into the bin with his key. The poem just needs to be grounded someway. It doesn't need to drown with metaphors, just enough to know there's something there beneath the surface. How much beneath the surface you want to go is up to you. edited by superlativedeleted on 3/15/2019
3/23/2019 10:17:08 PM
Critique, an Invitation	Hey Miranda. Thank you for your feedback. I should have made clearer the title is "Critique, an Invitation". The image is an extended metaphor for the critique process. Thank you for pointing out clarity is an issue. Also, thank you for reading several times. I often do this with any poem I read.
pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12