windyone
replying on Life and Love by windyone
31 May 2005, 7:58 AM
How sad....that everything needs to be analyzed...life is to be enjoyed
Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may be inadvisable to draw it out... Perfect understanding will sometimes almost extinguish pleasure.
A. E. Housman
Sorry, I don't buy symphony of dogs. The last line is a little too straightforward for me. Maybe a little backstory might be good like D says.
Amen.
Maybe- My nails are green too. And a little brown. My garden is for everyone to enjoy.
Ok , too wordy maybe but I'm with Zodiac on the ending being a let down . You show us well with the deatiled nails and then tell us what you thought. You know better than that. Weed it, damnit.
use the search key for: What you know - It might help,it might not.
Most suicide writers say "I'm gonna kill myself". So, this being written in 2nd person, I think makes it better than the normal suicide schlock we're accustomed to. Maybe stanza two can be expounded on to help bring more of the subjects person into the picture. Most of the poem is blood being cleaned up. I'd like to see more hurt/cause. I think circuit could be used.
Trying to imagine Miggy as a voluptuous blonde with blue&black lipstick and lots of tattoos just caused me to "expend myself".
"Virtue"
- Cynthia Huntington
All the houses are white;
all the yards have yellow flowers
attended by bees.
If you must be born female
try coming as an insect -
they have the edge. Bees
spoil their little brothers just
so long and then they're through.
The queen has a hundred lovers,
her daughters, none. A nation of sisters
lives forever: wasps and ants.
Here in New England
you'll come across old family plots
- farmers with two or three wives
set down in a row; prayers and faint praise
for the good woman, wife, mother:
modest and weary, homely as a shoe.
How she stirred and kneaded,
baked, sewed, scrubbed, and bore down.
I let the ants come in my kitchen
and carry off bread crumbs.
Girl soldiers, all discipline and grit.
Flies buzz the heads of stupefied cows,
up to their knees in yarrow,
hissing: "wake up, wake up!"
Their teats swell, heavy with milk,
long after their done
being anyone's mother.
In the corner of the garage
a spider devours her mate,
wraps up what she can't finish
and hangs it to dry. Mosquitos
murmur for blood in the high grasses.
A car door slams down the street.
Milk and honey, butter and jam,
what virtue in living as a slave?
In the kitchen I unpack groceries:
sweet peas, cider, wild honey, pears
burst from the flowering branch.
(copied without permission from Poetry Daily, www.poems.com)
Misguided doesn't mean "not guided", it means "guided in the wrong way". So I didn't say you were "not guided"; you did. And maybe I meant a "a thoroughly misguided pen, guided wrongly by you".
If it doesn't make any more sense that way it's because I was really trying not to insult you or your writing. I was speaking hypothetically; and notice I said "someone", not "I".
I have to admit, it was a bit of a letdown getting to the end only to find the meaning was "she employs devices to look different". Well, I mean, duh. For one, everyone employs devices all the time to look different from how they'd look nude. For another thing, I imagine if she wanted to look different without employing devices, she'd have to (a) practice holding some really distinctive facial expression or posture all the time (which is a device when you get down to it) or (b) accept that she just looks different enough as she is, unless she's an identical twin or something (which we both know is kind of crap.) And would I be totally wrong if I guessed you really meant "she employs devices to look ugly or different from me"?
An advice: Don't write poems in which you're a dead soldier. You're about the tenth poemranker user to do that this month.
I like it. I'm just still working out how to make it poetry.
Oh. I don't know what to tell you, then.
A couple line-beginning capitalization typos, but who gives a crap? Liked it a bunch. 9
A poem is never finished, only abandoned.
Paul Valery
Sorry about the criticism of your poem. I Was
in a lousy mood and after reading it again, it
does have merit though it would work better if
you said more with less.)
<< to try to even the score
Even the score
And yet I never try
To even the score >>
Perhaps this is breathtaking when screamed into the microphone by a voluptuous blonde with black&blue lipstick and lots of tattoos, but as reading material it's a pover experience. And having to climb over '(chorus)' three times doesn't add to the spree
No mocking, really.
No sarcasm? Not even a tiny bit of mock?
I meant no sarcasm. Quite the opposite.