Re: To Err With Doves by MacFrantic	28-Apr-06/1:00 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers. To mindlessly shit with the doves you mean.
Re: FISH by annadoc	28-Apr-06/12:55 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers. You write like an epiletic having a fit.
Re: Deja Vu by sliver	28-Apr-06/12:53 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers. You are vague. Your poem is vague. Your life is one vague boring monotone.
Re: Meditation on the Future by MacFrantic	28-Apr-06/12:51 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers. You can't dash away? Who really dashes, in real life i mean, who dashes? You corny idiot.
Re: Cry by Sunny	28-Apr-06/12:49 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers.
Re: Portrait Paradelle by Enkidu	28-Apr-06/12:49 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers.
Re: Euclidian Insanity by tryplsyted	28-Apr-06/12:48 AM
You have no grasp on human existence. I cannot even venture to guess what childhood atrocities must have been inflicited on you to make you want to write such an empty and uninspired piece of shit as this. You're just one more sorry ass strutting around in this pitiful sanctuary for self-important asses. This drivel lacks all relevancy. Is this what you sit around pondering about? Is this the most intriguing most profound most soulful experience you can write about? What the fuck, are you some kind of horrible mutant? Try 'writing' something pertinent, germane, material, apropos to the soul and its struggle. It's tragic that such a bunch of heartless pukes have turned a once stimulating arena of thought into a incestuious hotbed of superfluous and inferior banter. The fact that some idiots feel it neccessary, let alone plausible, to leave comments on such atrocities is only more proof that you've all completely lost connection with the drama of human existence. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. Get a life. A real one consisting of love and loss, pain and exrutiating ecxtasy, the awareness of our absurd and fleeting existence. You're all stuck in a boring putrid land of make believe. Fucking losers.
Re: a comment on Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint by Ranger	21-Apr-06/12:38 AM
I want to make sure I've got this right; the theme of your poem is unrequited love, which is also the theme in Blueprint. Correct? When I asked how are the lines connected I didn't mean what THEME connects In Between Lovers to Blueprint. I meant that the actual lines used at the end of each stanza have no connection to the previous lines in the same stanza. In other words, you're not leading us to the last line of the stanza. Forget about Blueprint or connecting themes, just concentrate on your ideas and how you're going to make my lines your own by using them within the context of your story. 1) The scene is only visible after you decifer it for us. None of your metaphors have anything to do with each other. you have to stay with one metaphor for at least each stanza, and you have to use a metaphor that is plausible. what do the invisble wings represent? Love? Jealously? Obsession? then say: A pair of invisible wings is my love/jealousy/obsession ..... or My love/jealousy/obession is like a pair of invisible wings. or I wrap my love/jealousy/obsession around you; a pair of invisible wings to bear you up and keep you far from pain. You can't use painkiller as a metaphor for invisible wings and then say they take you to the arms of some foreign sun. Painkillers can't take you to the arms of a foreign sun. Invisible wings can but it's to late! You changed them into painkillers. Painkillers can take you to the arms of nirvana or to the arms of sleep; the arms of relief etc.... If you want the other guy to be a foreign sun then you have to keep the wings. If you wanted you could make her a comet/angel/Icarus or anything else that can make it to the sun. You make a mess of things when you keep changing the metaphors. If you want to introduce a new image you can try using a simile: My invisible wings like death take you away to the arms of a foreign sun. Wings can carry you off to a foreign sun and death can carry you to either heaven or hell which can be represented as a foreign sun. All the metaphors and similes are related to each other. They make one cohesive image for the reader to build on. You also start with a silent written confession but 'she' would rather you love with the lips i.e. with speech or kisses. But it could also be that she wants your emotions to be heard outloud. How can you say but then again? She doesn't like A she insists on B, but then again she prefers b. There's no logic. I don't like waffles I insist on pancakes, but then again I prefer flapjacks. It looks to me like your trying to do to much to soon. And as far as ordinary language and memorable poetry is oncerned Blueprint is completey written in common language. Tonight - I - hate - your - hands - and - their - craft. I - cannot - sleep - as - you - do Pressed - against - the - cool - walls Of - sudden - and - strange - houses.
Re: a comment on Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint by Ranger	20-Apr-06/10:12 AM
Invisible wings are perfectly fine. If this is a metaphor you strongly believe represents an inportant point then leave it in. Because of all the other things going on before and after you introduce the wings, the air is taken out of your sails. You're sputtering along. "I haven't included any filler in this, every line is relevant". Aye, there's the rub. That is the poet's great dilemma. Each expression, each phrase discribes something you felt. You just can't use them all at once. You have to choose, but if you focus on message first and style second, you will improve dramtically. You have to be ruthless about getting down to the bare bones. Once you establish a good foundation then you can test which embellishments make the poem beautiful. As for a title you should use --Madly in love with my bestfriend-- as a working title. If, while you're editing, you use a title that states what the poem is about, you will always be able to look to the top of the page and re-focus on what your poem is really suppose to be about. As I said, I'm happy to give some guideness intil this works, but I am pressed for time these days, so I won't always be able to get back to you right away.
Re: a comment on Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint by Ranger	20-Apr-06/10:11 AM
In my opinion this follows the 'obsession theme' very strongly. Don't worry about following or not following the poem that inspired you; this is your poem. Concentrate on what you want me to understand about this situation. Also I think at this point if you really want to understand the process of poerty writing you need to step away form the glossa format. There are no rules that say you can't write a free verse poem which begins with lines from another's poem that inspires you, or that you can't finish each stanza with one of those inspirational lines. That would elimate some of the stress from editing. If you are willing to give up the glossa idea for now and if you can commit yourself to working on this and nothing else intil it's good, I am willing to concentrate on helping you along the way for as long as it takes. I should not secretly confess like this. 'This' is a pronoun which is used when the writer has already established what the pronoun 'this' is replacing. How am I suppose to know your saying you shouldn't confess in writing? The verb 'writing', or any of its synonyms, is no where to be found. Why can't you say: I should not secretly confess in writing/on paper/with a letter/with my pen etc...? You can't use a pronoun when nowhere can be found the noun which the pronoun is substituting. Love with the lips, you always insisted. This line is completely understandable. Anyone reading it would come up with both the image of talking and/or of kissing/making love. That line needs no further work. But then again you prefer emotions to be audible. Again this line says nothing about the true meaning your trying to represent. there is nothing about her dislike of the strong and silent type. I could only come up with the images of her either wanting to make you wail from heartbreak or her sexually teasing you intil you screamed. And even then I was uncertain about my interpretation. Say what you mean. Conveying the information you want to communicate(in this case, that she doesn't like the silent type) is the first step you need to focus on.
Re: a comment on Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint by Ranger	19-Apr-06/11:30 PM
I have come up with some incredibly well put together sentences that I had to just throw away because they obscured the point I was trying to express. And guess what, they're often my favorite lines at the beginning. I try and try and try to find a place for them but they just don't fit. Anyway the point is- this poem says a lot about nothing. I know that you are trying to express something inspired, and without inspiration buddy, you might as well pack up and leave,so that means you are driven, but you need to use some of the frankness of ordinary speech. you do just that with "then you tell me I'm the only one who protects you through every storm and you reduce me just a little more". That's just fucking beautiful. It's not only what you say here, but how you say it, which gives this image the reality it needs to be understood. Any human being could imagine themselves thinking that thought. And for some you will have put into words feelings they had but could not express. That's poetry my friend. It's not a bunch of fancypants on a catwalk. It's engaging the audience and holding them all the way to the end of your poem. And that last line, that crucial line, must either hit them right in the gut or make them see cleary for a moment the loveliness and wonder of the world. not in one of these stanzas can I make the connection between what's written before hand and what's written in the last line. Is there suppose to be a relationship there? The heart is in the right place but this poem is hokie overall and that's a real shame because there are so many exquisite lines contained within it. Keep plugging away.
Re: a comment on Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint by Ranger	19-Apr-06/11:30 PM
I should not secretly confess like this Love with the lips, you always insisted But then again, you prefer emotions to be audible This is very diffucult to understand on first read. The lack of a period at the end of the first line you wrote along with the comma between -...lips, and you always insisted- confuses what your trying to communicate. There should be a period at the end of line 1(when I refer to line numbers I'm not counting the first quantrain). the first piece of information, that you shouldn't confess, ends there. What she says is related but it is a seperate image. Then you reconsider how 'she' might like your confession, but alas, you don't confess, in fact you become silent and then the next 3 words tell us you have wings and then they're wrapped around 'her'. I am not saying you can't display many images in a small quantity of words. What i am saying is that here, without periods, pauses or sustained images the reader is sopreoccupied with trying to follow your train of thought that they can't relate to the poem. A reader can only be moved by art that strikes a cord in them. If they haven't experienced what you're discribing, then your discription should make them feel that they can imagine what it must. Ultimately you're trying to convey human existence, not some fabulous display of words and images, all poets are born with the ability to do that. The craft of writing is the ability to take an insight or emotion and express it, not only with style, but above all, the writer must do it with all sincerity. Say only the things that help your point get across. Everything else must go.
Re: a comment on Inbetween Lovers/Blueprint by Ranger	19-Apr-06/11:27 PM
There are some good strong lines and images. 'ever the silent', 'drunk with god', 'bring me the dream wife I've glimpsed in print', 'I admit my favourite shade is jealous', 'and you reduce me just a little more'. I understand this has a certain structure that must be abided by and I know structure has much to do with choices, but the only way I can possibly critique this is simply as a poem, so bear with me if I make suggestions which go against the structure. My assumption, due to your ability to create images and sounds, is that you sincerely want to improve. Anne Sexton once said about her teacher at Boston university, the poet Robert Lowell, that "He works with a cold chisel with no more mercy than a dentist. He gets out the decay. He didn't teach me what to put into a poem but what to leave out." I have always been good at getting precisely to the point. I'm no Robert Lowel that's for certain, but many people have used me as an editor for every kind of writing from business letters to love letters. I don't know how much good I will do you, but- I know I can't do you harm.
Re: a comment on Behind the storm clouds, the moon consoles the sun.(edited) by ALChemy	1-Apr-06/12:21 PM
#1 No it's not an actual play. It's just a humorous bit of writing I did to let off steam and practice being funny. It's undisguised sarcasm, or so I thought. #2 Probably not. #3 Because it's fun. Please, just tell me which poems. #4 When I said that poem's a piece of crap i was refering to my poe"She Thinks She's Fat" and I already know why I think it's a piece of crap. My IQ ten years ago was 180. I'm sure it's come way down since then. Why do you keep paperwork that proves your IQ? I wasn't using the word moron to say you're stupid, just thick-headed. I gave a specific explanation on a public website. The comments are there for everyone to read. My manner is sometimes provincial but my character is not. I can't be a redneck because I am 'a person of color' as it were. I never ever point out mis-spellings in comments, because i usually don't see them. If I can understand what your saying I don't care. I only point it out in poems because it makes a difference in how seriously the poem can be taken. in the comments it doesn't matter if you write your or you're in less it confuses things and it typically doesn't.
Re: Your Eyes Are Like Stearling Saphires in the month of June by tisa7	30-Mar-06/7:12 PM
The title is beautiful but I think you meant Sterling not Stearling. Also this is not free verse. Free verse doesn't have a rhyme pattern this poem does- AABB. Don't give yourself anonymous 10's or ask your friends to, it's not worth losing your dignity. Are you serious about learnig to write poetry or are you just experimenting?
Re: Behind the storm clouds, the moon consoles the sun.(edited) by ALChemy	30-Mar-06/6:57 PM
red·neck n. Offensive Slang 1. Used as a disparaging term for a member of the white rural laboring class. 2. A white person regarded as having a provincial, conservative, often bigoted attitude.
Re: a comment on Behind the storm clouds, the moon consoles the sun.(edited) by ALChemy	30-Mar-06/6:53 PM
#1 It's obviously not something I'm disguising as a play, I'm not disguising anything. You moron. #2 Which of my poems resemble this pretentious, pompous drivel? #3 I was checking your page to look at your other poems, not because I was interested in your user info. #4 There is nothing you could do to bother me. I am not asking for specific or useful remarks. I am asking WHICH of my poems you are discribing. You moron. #5 In my critique of your style I gave you specific and useful reasons why your poems are corny at best, and I have probably even left some positive comments when there was something positive to say about your poems, as I have always done to any poem I've commented on. So, no I don't know how other people feel when I criticize them without giving any specific and useful remarks because I have never done that. On the other hand, I do know how to consider any specific or useful criticisms of my style or technique as valid observations. You incredible, incredible moron. p.s. You don't have to be from the South to be a redneck.
Re: a comment on Behind the storm clouds, the moon consoles the sun.(edited) by ALChemy	29-Mar-06/11:25 AM
Which poems look like hellacious dumps? I wouldn't write a screenplay if my life dependent on it. Now a stage play well that's an entirely different matter. Ah! The Thee-a-tur! In fact I'm working on a play in three acts about a sniveling redneck who fancies himself a 19th century literary genius. In the First Act our antihero receives some local success on the community access channel, but only because the students at the local university have made it a tradition to gather at a dive bar and watch the hilarity that is "Poetic Alchemy" tun-tuhta-duh with your talented and irrepressible host Billy -The Alchemist- McDugal!!! In the Second Act poor Billy's 1986 Buick Skylark breaks down just as his latest triumph is about to air. He hurries into the nearest bar afraid he'll miss Camille Saint-Saëns' Dance Macabre, which he choose after much diliberation, as the overture for his program. At first Billy is thrilled to find the telly already tuned in. No one at the bar recognizes Billy without his black satin cape with the red velvet lining and his floppy hat, so they berate the program, as is customary, and take turns immitating the oaf while reading really bad poetry. The student who wrote the worst poem or most like the poems bellowed out by Billy,(which is actually redundant come to think of it)wins a free pitcher of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Billy is crushed. Act Three: Billy returns to his apartment building, which looks pitifully like a public storage warehouse. It actually was a public storage warehouse, but it was confiscated and converted into low rent apartments after a police raid which uncovered the largest meth lab in the entire state. Billy finds a message on his answering machine from a crank caller threating to murder him if he butchers the English language any further. Unfortunately, or fortunately,( I'll leave that up to the audience)he doesn't take the threat seriously and erases the message. The following week, on his way home from an appearance at the Happy Meadows retirement home, he is kidnapped. They find him hung by his cape over the side of a bridge. There is a suicide poem pinned to the front of his puffy shirt written in Billy's antiquated style. "Oh poor daft looney, he must have finally realized how talentless he was and jumped, how ironically poetic", the chorus exclaims. The actors shake their heads but no one sheds a single tear. Not even the police care enough to investigate further. The End.
Re: a comment on Behind the storm clouds, the moon consoles the sun.(edited) by ALChemy	28-Mar-06/9:09 PM
Which of my poems is pretentious? You are easily bored. Lemme guess, you work at some tourist trap where you dress up as Lord Byron and "write poetry" for anyone with 5 bucks, $7.50 if they want a polaroid with you.
Re: a comment on To Michelle by ALChemy	28-Mar-06/8:53 PM
Where in this poem are those words located? My point is not that people should stop writing about love, my point is that new poetry should be written in a style that reflects the present. Alchemy is who he is now. The feelings he writes about are felt in this era not in another. To contrive some sort of sappy flourish in style comes off as completely insincere, false, stuffy and pompous. There are quite a few lines that on there own wouldn't create an alien atmosphere. But one after another after another is heavy handed. The reader reads to connect with the author. A thoughtful writer will mirror the times he lives in not abandon it.