Re: a comment on A Walk in the Park by Dovina	4-Feb-06/11:34 PM
I got lost. Did you agree that son of David almost certainly doesn't mean 'in the first generation after David' (as Christ, for example was a Son of David, and not even literally so, since Joseph, his connection to David, wasn't his real father)? Also, that 'King of Jerusalem' probably doesn't mean a literal king of Jerusalem or, at least, it means a displaced heir during one of the exiles? If not, for shame.
Re: a comment on A Walk in the Park by Dovina	3-Feb-06/4:54 PM
Do you feel that "nothing is new" is more, or less, of an exaggeration than "nothing is worthwhile"?
Re: A Walk in the Park by Dovina	3-Feb-06/2:31 PM
Your gift: Poets, if they're genuine, must also keep repeating "I don't know." Each poem marks an effort to answer this statement, but as soon as the final period hits the page, the poet begins to hesitate, starts to realize that this particular answer was pure makeshift, absolutely inadequate to boot. So the poets keep on trying, and sooner or later the consecutive results of their self-dissatisfaction are clipped together with a giant paperclip by literary historians and called their "oeuvre" . . . I sometimes dream of situations that can't possibly come true. I audaciously imagine, for example, that I get a chance to chat with the Ecclesiastes, the author of that moving lament on the vanity of all human endeavors. I would bow very deeply before him, because he is, after all, one of the greatest poets, for me at least. That done, I would grab his hand. "'There's nothing new under the sun': that's what you wrote, Ecclesiastes. But you yourself were born new under the sun. And the poem you created is also new under the sun, since no one wrote it down before you. And all your readers are also new under the sun, since those who lived before you couldn't read your poem. And that cypress that you're sitting under hasn't been growing since the dawn of time. It came into being by way of another cypress similar to yours, but not exactly the same. And Ecclesiastes, I'd also like to ask you what new thing under the sun you're planning to work on now? A further supplement to the thoughts that you've already expressed? Or maybe you're tempted to contradict some of them now? In your earlier work you mentioned joy—so what if it's fleeting? So maybe your new-under-the-sun poem will be about joy? Have you taken notes yet, do you have drafts? I doubt that you'll say, 'I've written everything down, I've got nothing left to add.' There's no poet in the world who can say this, least of all a great poet like yourself." The world—whatever we might think when we're terrified by its vastness and our own impotence or embittered by its indifference to individual suffering, of people, animals, and perhaps even plants, for why are we so sure that plants feel no pain; whatever we might think of its expanses pierced by the rays of stars surrounded by planets we've just begun to discover, planets already dead? still dead? we just don't know; whatever we might think of this measureless theater to which we've got reserved tickets, but tickets whose life span is laughably short, bounded as it is by two arbitrary dates; whatever else we might think of this world—it is astonishing. But "astonishing" is an epithet concealing a logical trap. We're astonished, after all, by things that deviate from some well-known and universally acknowledged norm, from an obviousness we've grown accustomed to. Now the point is, there is no such obvious world. Our astonishment exists per se and isn't based on a comparison with something else. Granted, in daily speech, where we don't stop to consider every word, we all use phrases such as "the ordinary world," "ordinary life," "the ordinary course of events." . . . But in the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world. It looks as though poets will always have their work cut out for them. - From Wislawa Szymborska's Nobel Prize acceptance speech
Re: a comment on Whales in Gastineau Channel by zodiac	3-Feb-06/12:13 PM
Nikon is a brand of camera. I don't know if they're so much in use these days. Thanks for reading.
Re: a comment on Nomads by amanda_dcosta	3-Feb-06/12:00 PM
That's harder to say, and, well, we're not very brave, let's face it. I'll go ahead and say, I don't think the quality of your haiku is very good. It's not very dense in information or original language use, which is the main challenge of haiku-writing and the measure of its success. We basically get that there are birds flying and someone wants to see them. In addition, flying and high and sky say essentially the same thing and are a tired rhyme. For an idea of what I'm talking about, here are some decent haiku I found online: EXAMPLE #1 Old black crow perched. A blur of smoke and silver, the moon in his beak. #2 Not your park pigeons, our West-crow: buff, foul-mouthed, he eyes my 'tato wedge. #3 Dog knew she was mad, cocked her head to wind’s sweet song, her lips pursed ready. #4 Out my window, crows harry bald eagles from their troves, tin, bits of string. #5 My quiet love grows. Late night talk about dying - he still wants to live You see? You get whole stories, situations, layers of subtext. That's how haikus work. It's very difficult. Even these are not especially good. Anyway, that's the idea. Hope it helps.
Re: a comment on Nomads by amanda_dcosta	3-Feb-06/11:41 AM
Yes, I do. And no, it's not technically wrong. But I stand by what I said earlier: People who said this wasn't a proper haiku were really trying to say they simply didn't like this haiku very much. If it had been a superb haiku, no amount of syllables would have bothered them.
Re: a comment on Whales in Gastineau Channel by zodiac	3-Feb-06/11:28 AM
re "breaches": I'm afraid that's real whale terminology. As for the rest - it's odd. Of about 30 people who've seen this, each has picked out a different single word to crit. Maybe I need to start over...
Re: a comment on A Walk in the Park by Dovina	3-Feb-06/11:26 AM
Oh, I meant "it" generally. The whole metaphor.
Re: Even the elephants by ecargo	3-Feb-06/9:40 AM
Bourne is an amnesiac super-assassin. You mean windborne. Good poem.
Re: Nomads by amanda_dcosta	3-Feb-06/9:37 AM
There's no strict rules for writing haikus in English, as you'd all know if you ever read Kerouac instead of just pretending. Saying haikus are supposed to be 5-7-5 is just an easy way of saying you don't like this haiku. That said, it's better if you try to write your haiku 5-7-5, amanda, as it's not a very difficult thing to do and if you don't, people are always going to wonder about you.
Re: stormcast (a true story) by FreeFormFixation	3-Feb-06/9:34 AM
Damn those libraries with their endless library knowledge.
Re: A Walk in the Park by Dovina	3-Feb-06/9:31 AM
"skirt fanned out as if it saw you" is good, but personally I think you should try to get over it. Happens to everyone, if we're lucky enough.
Re: Time by sk8rs_rule_all	3-Feb-06/9:19 AM
My suggestion is don't put anything in a poem if you've already heard it before. That pretty much covers all poems about "Time".
Re: The Book of Images by Dovina	31-Jan-06/11:05 AM
Nice arrangement, but you've added very little.
Re: Memoirs of a Greasyslut the rest of the story by Glasseyez	27-Jan-06/5:06 PM
How true! Geishas DO live in India!
Re: a comment on My testament to free speech by Glasseyez	27-Jan-06/2:19 PM
Talk about modern day American, you misspelled testament.
Re: a comment on Unfortunate Lover by elderking	26-Jan-06/11:58 PM
Don't Stand So Close To Me (The Police) Young teacher, the subject Of schoolgirl fantasy She wants him so badly Knows what she wants to be Inside her there's longing This girl's an open page Book marking she's so close now This girl is half his age Don't stand, don't stand so Don't stand so close to me Her friends are so jealous You know how bad girls get Sometimes it's not so easy To be the teacher's pet Temptation, frustration So bad it makes him cry Wet bus stop, she's waiting His car is warm and dry Don't stand, don't stand so Don't stand so close to me Loose talk in the classroom To hurt they try and try Strong words in the staffroom The accusations fly It's no use, he sees her He starts to shake and cough Just like the old man in That book by Nabokov Don't stand, don't stand so Don't stand so close to me...
Re: a comment on Singularity by drnick	26-Jan-06/1:56 PM
No, not really.
Re: Singularity by drnick	26-Jan-06/10:13 AM
Sorry, couldn't get into it.
Re: After Rain by Niphredil	26-Jan-06/10:10 AM
Nice, except the punchline ending.