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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!!!

5/22/2015 2:31:16 PM jill spagnola Posts: 12	Wow! I actually get it What a wonderfully concrete combination of image and prose, yet with plenty of room left for one's own imagination..., Jill Those who have never failed have never tried... edited by sunshine williams on 5/22/2015 -- jill
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5/23/2015 4:21:07 PM Bob Atkinson Posts: 294	Thanks Jill and DiDee for your sweet comments. And Didee you bring up a subject near to my heart, that is: "a picture without a poem is like a heart without a soul." Think of it, you paint a beautiful picture, then without narration why would somebody sit and stare at it for more than a few seconds. But, if there was a poetic narrative printed and framed right next to it, wouldn't it be more than the sum of two framed ideas? A marriage of art and poetry, another reason for poetry. If you want examples google: art critic arizona lots of examples there, julia, the letter plus marjorie's works. Regards, Bob Atkinson
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6/16/2015 1:12:18 PM Bob Atkinson Posts: 294	Ships, Trains, and Planes - by Bob Atkinson Years ago weren't many adventures I wouldn't do youth has its own desires free will has super powers over you but wanderlust and bravery weren't good it seemed if you didn't have imagination to travel through your dreams so I went on the road to see adventure, love and identity but ships trains and planes brought me home settled me down some then let me go again on a whirlwind tour of rented cars and strange boudoirs those ships, trains and planes would bring me home ships, trains and planes brought me home carried me back where I belonged set me up and stood me right here on my doorstep again at night yes, ships trains and planes brought me home Parthenon stood upon the hill bazaar was busy, full of thrills green skeleton of Paris was and always is a thing of awe Prague's bridge had much to hold near cobblestone streets of old in Bavaria there was a town Munchen clean, subway a dream clock upon the tower cross the street on cobblestones neat to Jack's sweater shower ships, trains and planes brought me home, carried me back where I belonged set me up and stood me right here on my doorstep again at night yes, ships trains and planes brought me home later, when I no longer roamed the mind passed over times of old gave meaning to things we did when we were hard to hold and now..... Ships, trains and planes left me home they no longer carry me away from where I belong years ago they set me up and stood me right here on my doorstep again at night yes ship, trains and planes left me home
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6/22/2015 9:13:03 AM Bob Atkinson Posts: 294	The Life Complex - by Bob Atkinson seeing becomes believing when we discover one who tries to envelope all life's facets from birth to end of time track instances of soothing to work out something grand outside our institutions built for use of sedate man feel I've not been forceful in accomplishments or fate not knowing nor understanding how much to percolate through open intervention or absorption of great passion see a wall which blocks my vision not my talent and intention perhaps a key unlocks our drive our super being becomes purged of lethargic inaction butt planted on a curb when with imagination could drive out to the coast and carve a harbor deep enough to dock just any boat no, don't see me situated on a hill above this town drawing pictures of construction or roads beyond this realm but, would have been nice if my life had done what I could look back and see divinely stare me right there in the eye
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