A Bjork tribute??

Oh How I've waited!

- shouldn't - didn't (apostrophe generally goes with the missing letter) - nonetheless is usually one word. Well done, but I'd consider loosing that second stanza, or to at least get more out of it. Nine.

I liked polar-fickle-phases, and liked trying to figure out what it means.

I don't agree to making this a pimple - but kill the last stanza I think. It does have a mantra-like sense to it and it flows fairly well. Prolly a little thinning would increase the impact a bit? I just don't happen to agree with some of it. I believe that true beauty actually is perfection - its just that most definitions for perfection are... imperfect.

nice.

- "reaching toward hopes / of an early spring" is poorly worded. One suggestion: "Black arms birches grasp in gray, late winter skies - for hopes of early spring, they stretch to feel the wind wend by. - "curves" shouldn't have a "the"; probably "hollows" as well. - "the space within" sounds too much like several recent fashionable phrases and should be avoided at all cost. - "through that touch they’ll open up again" needs to be better-worded. - The third stanza should at the very least not be its own stanza; it's weak, and there's an unnecessary "the" before wind. - drop the "in" before "dappled" and punctuate after "sundress". Thanks for that, by the way. - Put a fuller stop after "white" and drop "and", which is unrhythmical. - I don't know what to say about "to distraction"; it just doesn't make sense to me. - The second-to-last stanza is also weak; maybe it does something for everyone else, I'm just not getting anything from it. In fact, I'd drop everything after "tries". The last stanza is just as bad as the one before. - That said, this is one of your more enjoyable recent posts. However, if living in New England means writing endless poems about longing for spring, I'm not sure how cool I am with moving there. I already hate winter enough living in the South.

Oh, I get it, take out all the "ab"'s. But after that, what do we have here? Not much.

You're a guffoon.

This is one of my first co-writes.

nice visuals

I'm a little put off by telling your love that the flowers are sweet. I know what your mean, but something like "desirable" might work better.

So?

Scary

Hey, welcome to our time! A few rules: 1) If you meet your true love here, you cannot take him/her back to your own century without disastrous effects on the space-time continuum or some ironic ending where you discover you're really your own great-great-great-grandfather/ mother. 2) You may gaze awhile upon our wondrous gyromobiles and electozappers, but, again, please do not attempt to take them back with you in order to dominate the earth, which will inevitably result in said space-time disruptions. 3) You must express surprise and unfamiliarity at everything, even objects/actions which had equivalents in your own century, such as forks and relieving yourself. 4) You should have no understanding of modern irony, despite that your time was much more ironic than ours; your long, dry jokes shouldn't make sense to us. 5) When the aforementioned true love is kidnapped/otherwise in danger, you must rescue him/ her using A. a horse and B. your old-fashioned know-how. 6) You must quickly befriend a scientist, who will be the only one who knows exactly when and where the time-portal will appear again. How he knows this is not important. 7) You must after a series of wacky adventures return to your own century. It will be sad, but the best thing for all of us. If you comply with these rules, you should have an enjoyable time here (pun intended) and maybe teach us a thing or two about ourselves. Thank you, and Godspeed, sirrah!

A very sad story. I think skid row mentality stays with you wherever you're living:9

How is it you have a bunch of "old votes" and no old comments? Anyway, I'm not rabid, but do like this. I didn't think snakes came from mamals though. Also, I think all the species had or have skills necessary for survival because they survived, at least for a while - picky, picky. Also the last line throws me. Who didn't believe?

We want authenticity these days. What ever happened to "All the world's a stage, and all of us goofballs actors"? Tell me to shup up, but I still see a lot of acting. And I sort of long for it to go away. Good thought.

Here's to to the good folks who handed us the torch and the good folks like you who remember them. Salute!

There must be some jest among you men about a sundress, but I think it's a great feminine image for the feeling of spring, which has often seemed light and delicate compared to the brute strength of summer.