Poetry Forum

LoomingSun - all messages by user

2/26/2021 3:03:32 PM
When I Was Young, Speaking Was Hard	When I was young, I could never hear you speak. Although you spoke sometimes to me; I was only eleven. The world had gone mad, you told me shut up. But would I shut up? No, only you did. You told me that I was going to die, no way. The blue buds of my thoughts cut like weed whackers. Finished. Like my soul, it dies and so will my verbiage. You told me that I was going to see heaven. But that’s not what you really meant. You meant only silence, just like when you occasionally speak but don’t, you stutter. Are you ok? I ask. And you say; no, I am not. I almost died in a car accident from complaining about you, the sound of your cracking voice filled my body like rising waves in an ocean. I was blind, didn’t see where I was going, then I caught car after car. You said I was going to live, make up your mind. You remember me and then you turn away in the hospital where I received bruises. You said to me that I was going to feel pain. And I did, but where are you now? Don’t tell me you have gone, the world curls into a ball and I have slept, oh for so long I did. I wish you couldn’t talk, but for me to talk I would have to have you reply yes, my child I will talk to you. edited by LoomingSun on 2/26/2021
2/26/2021 6:20:11 PM
Have you thought about making chapbooks	I think it works, I am currently composing a chapbook myself, I used to have two that I was producing but I think one would be enough.
3/2/2021 7:04:10 PM
A Canadian Goose Landed in My Throat	This was a beautiful read! I think it works well when it comes to imagery but it was a bit tedious, and almost jarred me when reading the poem due to it being too long. Is this an epic poem by the way? It rhymes (which is nice) It is also repetitive which I don't know why. I think you can cut it down though, make it shorter.
3/2/2021 7:20:23 PM
The Tax-Payer	The burly man had debt to pay. Living in his snowy city there he stood waiting for the tax-payer to pay up. He leaves out a number and address to pay up for tomorrow. I dare not know what he will do next. But in the snow, he waits for his next hunt. He adds that work penned like an epic needs to be addressed to the tax-payer. He continues to scribble languages in his pen, the day looming over to night. A cycle of darkness begins and he sits in his home waiting for his debt. He will pay he says, and when the moon comes avalanching to sunlight. He waits in his flat. The tax-payer is around here somewhere he says. And he wonders this for a time. The man with his crewcut face and crewcut hair scratches his head wondering where he is now. But the day ahead looms again. He continues to wait for his payment, he hopes someone answers. edited by LoomingSun on 3/2/2021 edited by LoomingSun on 3/2/2021 edited by LoomingSun on 3/2/2021
3/2/2021 9:19:27 PM
What is your style?	Rondeau's, Epics, Ballads, Senryu's. And I write Epics. edited by LoomingSun on 3/2/2021
3/7/2021 7:01:58 PM
There is a star with my name on it	Love the imagery, but why is ignite capitalized? edited by LoomingSun on 3/7/2021
3/20/2021 11:42:24 PM
Wanderer	Very mystical, I love fantasy poems, they are usually hard write something original though, most of them are very cliché and involves dragons. Yours didn't so. But I want to say that this poem has a lot of creative energy and I liked the ending. I think you could change "has" to does. As that reads better. Good job.
3/20/2021 11:47:06 PM
I would love some feedback on 'Babyliss in Acid'!	Really good! I like the cadence of the piece and the way you used words like Hippocampus. I don't really see anything wrong with it, who is Orlando, Leon, and Halleluiah?
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