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Recent posts
9/23/2018 1:38:20 PM
A 380 Is Too Long

Jack Webster
Posts: 70
the poem is very successful at creating an inner sensation by using the sensory details of the journey to work. well done!

I think the poem would be even stronger if the sections written in second person were rewritten in third person. The poem is well written enough, and successful enough at evoking an inner sensation in the reader, it is unnecessary to refer to "you" to place the reader in the work. they are already experiencing it simply by witnessing it.
9/23/2018 1:08:22 PM

Jack Webster
Posts: 70
lectures are not poems. strong opinion. weak poem.

the work is almost entirely devoid of sensory detail, and is entirely devoid of inner sensation. It is not something the reader can experience; the author is talking at the reader. Those that agree with it will be delighted by it; but poems are not subject to agreement or not agreement, as they are experiences which the reader is asked to process and make their own impressions of.

If we remove the device of end rhyme, the façade of poesie falls compeletely away. There is the simile of the poisoned lollipop, but it is a simile that could even be included in casual conversation or prose.

If the author wishes to transpose the work into poetic form, it would best be done by illustrating scenes that engage the senses that capture the dynamic the poet wishes to express, hopefully refraining from editorializing.

the draft is a great road sign directing the author in the direction it wishes to go, but it has not arrived yet.
9/23/2018 12:34:51 AM
Just feeling a nobody

Therese Bacha
Posts: 1
I am a little sad because i thought when i was still here 2 years ago i made many friends and was very happy writing poems and receiving reviews, and even became friends with many not to name them, when i left due to health problems i thought i would be missed, but nobody even knew if i was alive or dead. I was absent for 2 years due to health problems, i came back nearly a month ago, wanting to feel that i have friends to support me, but unfortunately nobody even cared to notice that i am back after i already posted 3 poems. Nobody noticed that i am here to share again with my friends. Tell them what i went through or even just to feel to let them know i am here. That made me very sad. Terry
9/22/2018 11:35:40 PM
A poem dedicated to Cassidy Megan, a person I adm

Inna Ayrapetova
Posts: 1
Canadianie, take my lavender ribbon:
I will stretch it to you, my dear, from Russian coasts.
My "Hallelujah!" will at once be free-born
As soon as you reply those loud and distant calls.

I write about the Western very rarely
But this is not your case, undoubtedly, dear.
Don't answer like ice-crust, I ask, I beg you!
Open the secret, kind soul! I would like to hear!

Don't be afraid: the ribbon is not poisoned
But there is Holy water and some chrism.
Don't hide in snow floor, and don't hide in noise, and
Come to my land! Give bravery through your prism!

I'd share my health with you to make my great dream
Come true! Canadianie! Please, tell me what to do!
Well, on the whole, I ask: let's be a straight team
So that my land with me is like your land with you!
9/22/2018 5:32:53 PM

Jack Webster
Posts: 70
I think this is a good draft. It definitely outlines the direction the author wishes to go in. The goal of the poem seems to be a reclaiming, an act of self-definition, a declaration of unity and humanity across time.

I think the first line should be examined carefully, as it does not refute the image of the black body as emblematic of slave-hood. Rather than redefine the metonym of the black body, it says "but..." and proceeds to list a litany of abstract, intangible qualities that seem to be an attempt to counterbalance, or excuse the reality of having the body of a slave. I think there is a stronger way to approach the topic.

I think the poem should refute the image of the black body as being emblematic of slave-hood, by grounding each of the abstract qualities listed in this draft with images of the black body. For example "The passion of our hospitality..." is a rich opportunity to delve into the topic of soul food, hands with dark skin stirring steaming pots, or steam from cooking at the skillet leaving a beautiful sheen on fingers. You could even extend the theme of black being beautiful to including the image of a cast iron skillet, how its dark skin creates magnificent food that holds communities together. You could have images of people hand in hand before dinner giving thanks together, etc... You could even go around the table describing each smile and how each person's skin is a little different, some a little more red, some more gold, some lighter, some darker, some new and smooth, others wrinkled and weathered, but all unified by the melanin they've inherited from their ancestors, etc...

There could be an image of a young black woman as valedictorian of her college giving a speech at graduation, and you could extend the metaphor as black as beautiful by emphasizing the black robes of educational achievement and excellence, etc...

"There's an energy, strain..." could be related as an image of protesters taking the wheel of democratic process in their hands, black lips speaking truth to power, her black skin more righteous than the black armor of white officers; the image of black as beautiful could be extended to the black roads that are the life-veins of civilization, etc...

There are lots of ways that you can use images of the black body to illustrate love, unity, humanity, love for life, intelligence, creativity, dreams, etc... I think using images of the black body to illustrate these things seizes out of the hands of white supremacy, and reclaims it as the body of a human being. It's something you could dive very deeply into. Leave no stone un-turned, extend, contrast, make the skin come alive, and it will speak for itself.

This isn't to say to ignore that one's country or society may view the black body as emblematic of slave-hood, as it is an injustice that must be confronted. However, i think it is best confronted by refuting it, but that is my own opinion, and the author must write as it wishes.
9/20/2018 11:48:15 PM
know the real you

Gerold Gyabaah
Posts: 2
Knowing the you in you makes you a
better writer.
Someone may ask how do I get
to know the me in me ?

Expression of your own emotions makes your artwork Real.
Just find out what really makes
you feel like writing. Find a reason,
Pen and paper and allow your heart to do
the rest.
I believe in a quote I wrote,
"Poetry is the rain of the brain when
The body is in drought"
Just allow your heart and your brain,
They are the first tools in poetry even
Before pen and paper or your computer.
Be a better listener and good observer.
The Things around you in particular moments
Can be a great source of inspiration.
Try turning all situations around you
into poetry . Keep in your mind, poetry
is your life story and you would be the
best author of your own life story.
For no one knows you better than you do.
Learn a lot of new things because you
can barely realy on the same old you
Remember learning makes you perfect.
Read the work of others but do not be
carried away by their choice of words
And how well they formulate their lines
to see your self as inferior
because you
do not write as they do.
Don't forget you are special in your own way.
See yourself as a special gift
and that there is none like you. Though
there may be better writers than you, yet
there is only one you in your field.
No one else can be like you.
edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/20/2018
edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/21/2018
edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/21/2018
edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/21/2018
edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/21/2018
9/20/2018 10:22:55 PM

Gerold Gyabaah
Posts: 2
We may have the body of slaves
But we have the heart of lions
Our courage doesn't roar
But speaks with a silent voice
Dark bodies
Sure, "blacks" they call us.

Proud of our astonishing beauty
And our unending love and unity
There's an energy, strain,
wave connecting everyone
Triumph of imagination over intelligence
Yes! There's love that binds us
Love and unity,our burning desire

The passion of hospitality
runs through our veins
BLACK IS our culture
And BLACK is beautiful.
edited by Gerold Gyabaah on 9/20/2018
9/19/2018 3:43:26 PM
Sending soup mail

Rainbow Promise
Posts: 56
Hi Jan Allison and Neil you commented on a poem for me “Picture Album Story Of My Mom. I am soliciting your permission to use the comments as an endorsement for a Memoir I wrote since she has just passed. I was looking for your private message page. Could you Message me as Rainbow Promise so that I could give you the details. Thank You. Rainbow
9/18/2018 12:13:06 PM
Quiet Time With God

Charlie Smith
Posts: 1
Quiet Time With God

With solemn intent

Lord, I come to you now

For time earnestly spent

God, I humbly bow

Not a sound must I make

No notions fail to be heard

With soul's refuse at stake

And weary pretense deferred

May my faith give me strength

And my love render hope

Excuse the shadows their length

To assure beauty its scope. Amen...
edited by charlie smith on 9/18/2018
edited by charlie smith on 9/18/2018
9/18/2018 11:07:11 AM
Art of Nature

Dawa Zangpo
Posts: 1
Art of Nature.

Nature! Nature!Nature! What's thy art?
Capture thee our heart,
Delight with your gifts and never lasts;
Trees of different height,  I view
Free height of different hue,
Land, high,low and plain
And our hearts bleeds with happy rain.

Nature!  How is thy art?
Future,it makes luster and onward
Mind finds peace and
Kind words even in sand,
Magic in the song,
Logic of mind to answer without wrong.
Birds,what does your sweet song mean?
Birds, your deep thought is unseen
Deeply buried in your voice
Keep Oh! Singing till the rise,
Next day with days sun
Haste of days till it run.

Lark,it flies and signets
Hark,and see the view of beauties
Swift, flies ,it takes in air
Cliff nor water it has but higher
And higher it flies
And poorest the sweetest songs from skies.

Deer jumps and fox cries
Clear seen its fission in daylight,
My heart cools out of sadness
Joy overflows with delight ness,
Wind doth blows,gust
Hand,a full of happiness, just
Brings and freshen our mind.

Hour for they watches the fall
Bower window full with members, all,
Shower passes their eyesight
Far yet seems the daylight,
Her hairs hang out all night
Something that is hard to apart.

What a sweet sound it makes!
What stops the shower ! I expect
Yet this to happen again
Added with the rain begins.
9/18/2018 8:56:47 AM
Quiet Time With God

charles messina
Posts: 1
My lord, my father, please forgive me. I know throughout my life I have sinned, but believe in you my father, I have. My trust in you and knowing that you have been by my side, I kneel before you...I thank you, lord.

I thank you for your forgiveness to not only me but to everyone. I have bitten the other side of the apple and passed it along to others, forgive me lord.

I know you are watching me while I lay here with my eyes closed and my head upon my pillow, but if you should taketh me to the high heavens with you tomorrow, or tonight, I will be forever grateful for my time here on earth that you have given to me so that I was able to touch so many with the love that you have given to me. I thank you, lord.

This collaboration you have brought upon to us is a beautiful thing, I thank you, lord.

But as you know, this is not the first time, your sons and daughters have been collaborating since the beginning of time and I know you have heard our cries, our prayers, and our trusts in you, my lord.

There has been countless books to read about you, many gathering places, churches, temples, and even in our own homes. All of these places are great places to be as we express our love and trust in you. But I do know as well , my lord.

That we need not be in any of these places to show our faith in you. All we really need is some quiet time with god, you my father. I thank you, lord.
edited by Messina on 9/18/2018
9/18/2018 2:02:14 AM
Trusting The Lord In All Things

Curtis Moorman
Posts: 9
Trusting The Lord In All Things What a thing it is to know God's lovereally blows the mind to think uponhow could God think so much of me?such love beyond words or a songBut in calling us in His sovereign loveGod takes you down many a roadnot all pleasant but so necessaryso our seed planted should be sowedThis is a God that knows it alleven the beginning to the endso He can be trusted fully and trulyassuring you every hitch He can mendThe key secret is to have a close walkwith Jesus moment by moment every daythen your faith increases to say, Lordwith conviction walking in His wayThe Lord knows my way He's plannedevery detail my God sovereignly has donebelieve with a capital B not a doubtHis presence so precious is God's son
9/17/2018 4:10:38 PM
Trusting The Lord In All Things

Gordon McConnell
Posts: 5
Trusting The Lord In All Things

What a thing it is to know God's love
really blows the mind to think upon

how could God think so much of me?

such love beyond words or a song

But in calling us in His sovereign love

God takes you down many a road

not all pleasant but so necessary

so our seed planted should be sowed

This is a God that knows it all

even the beginning to the end

so He can be trusted fully and truly

assuring you every hitch He can mend

The key secret is to have a close walk

with Jesus moment by moment every day

then your faith increases to say, Lord

with conviction walking in His way

The Lord knows my way He's planned

every detail my God sovereignly has done

believe with a capital B not a doubt

His presence so precious is God's son
edited by poetgord on 9/17/2018
edited by poetgord on 9/17/2018
edited by poetgord on 9/17/2018
9/17/2018 10:54:37 AM
Quiet Time With God

Robert L. Hinshaw
Posts: 2

When I behold the rising of a new days' sun,

Or glorious sunset when the day is done,

Or view the majestic moon rising o'er the dell,

I see the Hand of God at work and know that all is well.

It is He who waters the earth with life-sustaining rain,

To nourish all the fruits and fields of golden grain.

He renders the bountiful harvest across the verdant plain;

'Tis surely the Hand of God attending His vast domain!

Who but He could have formed the mighty mountain peaks,

Pristine lakes, flowing rivers and gently rippling creeks!

It is He who adorns the trees in gold and scarlet every Fall;

'Tis surely the Hand of God that wrought this celestial ball!

I see the Hand of God when a mother cuddles her newborn child;

When the babe first peered at mother's face and sweetly smiled.

He has boundless love for all creatures be they great or small;

'Tis surely the gentle Hand of God that governs over all.

When I regard the stars or a comet as across the sky it speeds,

How can I not stand in awe of His matchless deeds!

Tho' there is so much about the universe I'll never understand;

This I know for sure - 'tis the creation of the Master's hand!

Robert L. Hinshaw
9/17/2018 10:30:57 AM

Florence Ezekiel
Posts: 5
Thanks so much for the correction.... Will check on that
9/17/2018 8:38:05 AM
He Changed Me

Latisha Jones
Posts: 1
God changedme for the better this I truly in my heart know
I rememberhow i was at first and to accept that was a hard blow
I didn’tthink anything was wrong with me that I had finally got it together
I was finallyable to stand on my own and take care of myself
I didn’thave to depend on or ask anyone for their help
I didn’thave to do things I really didn’t want to do just to make a little money to getby
I didn’thave to keep making the wrong decisions just to keep from having to cry
Not everyhurt or pain inflicted on me was from others most of them I inflicted themmyself.
Not likingyourself or not even loving yourself is a hurt that is hard to overcome
But with Godall of this is possible, and I am a living testament of that for everyone
I felt that Idid not need anyone because all people did was hurt you to get what they wanted
Nobodyreally cared about me that is what I believed and felt and that was what peopleflaunted
Can anyonerelate feeling like that every day of your life, but the good thing is itwasn’t true
When Godshowed me that someone wanted to love me unconditionally I was so happy
God showedme how my thinking was wrong all those years
God gave mestrength and made me stronger thru all the tears
My tears werevery cleansing for me crying out all the hurt and pain
Opening meup to be able to receive all this love he had in his plan
He placedspecial people who would not give up on me no matter what I did to push themaway
He gave me blessedpeople who have been there help me get thru and let me know it would be okay
God haschanged my whole outlook on life now where before I wondered why I was evenborn
I felt likeit was just to be used and abused and to be miserable the rest of my days
But I know Ihave a purpose now God had me go thru everything to mold me into the person Iam now and I just had to get out of his way.
To be a helpto someone else who may be going thru what I went thru
or someone who is struggling to deal with whatthey have been thru but can look at me and
hear my story and know without a doubt thatGod is real and if he can change my bitter and
angry and isolated self into a person whowants to be
better andmore positive and give hope and encouragement to others he can change you too.
God is theonly one that can help you change for the better
Godencourages and not discourages those who want to try
He makes itknown that he is there no matter what even more when you need to cry
He wants thebest for you always and when you do he is happy for you
God is notenvies of you and trying to take you down instead of building you up
He is nottrying to manipulate you to be what he wants it is not one sided at all
You don’thave to continue to live that generational curse of how you were raised you canbe different,
you can be abetter you can be who God created you to be. When I look back and see how far Ihave
come withGod and where he brought me from I know I am a miracle. I would not be here ifGod had not had his hand on my life from the start.
9/16/2018 12:14:39 AM
Quiet Time With God

Timothy McGuire
Posts: 1
God a Cricket and Me

No one in this old church but God, a cricket and me,
How lonely his calls seem to be,
No one answers the cricket’s calls,
Only his echoes off the walls.

Just God, a cricket and me.

There is no choir singing,
Or church bells ringing,
No pastor preaching,
Nor teacher teaching.

Just God, a cricket and me.

This cricket seems to be searching for past masses,
As under the old cross he passes,
No brides, no babies, no mourners does he see, No sounds, no prayers or any jubilee.

Just God, a cricket and me.

It is as if he were speaking to the Lord, Without the use of a single word,
I can feel that God hears his call,
As he hears the prayers of us all.

Just God, a cricket and me.

As the cricket’s chirps fill the room,
Gone are my fears and gloom,
For I know God loves him as small as he may be, They way God also loves me.

Just God, a cricket and me
edited by timmymac on 9/16/2018
9/15/2018 1:50:24 PM

Bob Atkinson
Posts: 230
Wow !
9/10/2018 2:21:57 PM

Wendy Nipas
Posts: 17
Thank you Jean Bush. The reason I don't break up my poems in stanzas is because I want every line to be connected to the next. I'm telling a story so I do not want to separate the thoughts. I hope you understand. But thanks for your reply.
9/10/2018 2:17:29 PM

Wendy Nipas
Posts: 17
Thank you so much JJ Towns!
edited by wendyme on 9/10/2018

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