Edna Sweetlove
on AIDS in a van by -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.
14 May 2006, 2:53 AM
About as funny as 9/11. But less original.
Not excatly what you'd call either original or clever.
Random thoughts from a creative mind. But not much good.
Unfunny. Unclever. And it's not a limerick. Dreadful in short.
Parrots have their feelings too!
Illiterate and badly written garbage.
Edna Sweetlove
on Beard my Homemade Negro Jesus (Improved! With AIDS!) by Everyone
14 May 2006, 2:55 AM
Too long and drawn out. I got bored by the 4th or 5th stanza. A couple of decent jokes in it though.
Edna Sweetlove
on The Ballad of Fraser Allonby Q.C., Barrister-At-Law by wFraser Allonby Q.C.w
14 May 2006, 2:56 AM
OK I suppose. The final word of the last line of the penultimate stanza would be funnier if it were "bitches".
I think God listens to this kind of gushing, but I can't imagine Him doing anything about it. Too sentimental, too little desire for real change.
I assume this is intended to be illiterate childish rubbish in which case it succeeds. So 10/10 for beng worthless and puerile; 0/10 for anything else.
Looking decent on first view; the football's about to start though so I won't stay long. Will return later to read it more thoroughly and maybe pick up some inspiration. Lord knows I need it at the moment.
amanda_dcosta
on Cupid Missed Two Junkies (slightly clearer, rambling draft) by Ranger
12 May 2006, 12:13 PM
Ranger, I need to read this more clearly during the day.
It's 00:40 hrs now and I'm quite tired. Sorry for no vote now. I did read it, and it looks interesting, but am unable to be specific right now.
Nice - fewer uses of 'the' would have been nice, it makes it seem a little disjointed at the moment. Also...I'd love a bit more in the way of description of the porpoises; I'm on the verge of actually seeing this snapshot, but it's just agonisingly out of my grasp...
Easily 8, probably 9 with an edit.
ALChemy
on Cupid Missed Two Junkies (slightly clearer, rambling draft) by Ranger
13 May 2006, 6:17 AM
Sounds like you're trying to show the love affair that addicts have with drugs. My problem is that you can't really tell who's doing the talking and who they are talking to. I guess maybe some solid points of reference to anchor the poem would help the reader to follow you. Right now it seems to be almost entirely metaphor.
Not your best. It's like a post card for the blind, like beauty that's just skin deep. It seems to give me nothing more than a pretty picture which I guess based on your title is what you were intending. I just know you are usually much deeper than that and those are the ones I prefer. But that's really just a matter of my own taste in poetry so take it with a grain of salt.
A very interesting piece, quite to my liking.
Dovina, I really admire the way you have your poems ready, one after the other, and am sorry to say that I haven't given much of them their due credit. Wish I had more time. Am awfully busy. Shifting next week.
I read this a couple of days ago and reminded my self to come back to it. I like it.
huh... maybe it is fitting that the structure is set up like it is: fairly lucid, then almost frenetic and disjointed, until a rather slow "crash" to a more lucid state.
ever listen to skinny puppy? go read some of their lyrics... there's a trip for ya:
http://www.lyricsdir.com/skinny-puppy-ly
Ever heard that Kinks song, 'Plastic Man'? This put me in mind of it.
Great poem.
Dovina
on Cupid Missed Two Junkies (slightly clearer, rambling draft) by Ranger
12 May 2006, 12:00 PM
You've stumped me with this one. The first thre lines are nice, then I'm lost. Will come back later.
Token vote, as you say, to start the comment counter.
I too find love can be like drowning.
On a side note, here's the most famous drowning poem I know:
Not Waving But Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
-Stevie Smith