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For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!
5/8/2010 7:20:12 PM

Matt Caliri
Posts: 4
I was pulling strings of beads--

They were dancing!
I lumbered to a lull,
The lighted eyes raying me--I shot upwards!
A rebounding blue casket flash,

I slide onto wet wood as Wendell
Dropped salt spit from his brow,
Patting me tender,
Wendell lived aone,

With the many fresh faces rolling along the lawns,
Pattering and clopping against the silent realm of the wood,
Piercing my silvering sounds,
The pier from below provided shuttering glimpses of the Great Blue and White.

There was always a party with Wendell...
Woven in nature's disgonal rings, as they appear against the sun,
There is some irate lust for hman-human companionship,
Mad scientists run a-muck about the land,

All on differeing timetables, differeing desires,
Rarely allowin the opportunity to walk around their own body,
To view themselves as semi-self-constructed circuitry
With a thirst for air me.
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5/9/2010 7:42:30 AM

I love the line, "A rebounding blue casket flash." Next, I think you need to look at where you are putting your periods.... Patting me tender. Wendell lived alone. and again, piercing my silvering sounds. and There was always a party with Wendell. and human-human companionship. Mad scientists run a muck about the land. In the last stanza, there is a typo, allowin should be changed to allowing. and the last line, I am not sure I understand what you were getting at, unless maybe, with a thirst for air, then add a line, a thirst for me. Just my thoughts. thank you again for your welcom comments. Catie
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