on some deleted poem
2 May 2004, 12:44 AM
careful... a ghazal is a collection of two line poems that are related, but they don't share lines. i guess there really isn't a rule against that... we'll mark up the grey area to poor descriptions of the poem style. slap on the wrist to kaolin
on LOVE-ABOVE LISTE by Everyone
2 May 2004, 12:46 AM
holy crap, so long and boring i had to fast forward to the comment box... cut out about 2/3 of the poem bits, please
on Thoughts Controlled by a Slow Server by <Wankster>
2 May 2004, 12:47 AM
an interesting use of the programming variety
on some deleted poem
2 May 2004, 11:19 AM
the justin cress theme is a little redundant
on some deleted poem
2 May 2004, 11:17 AM
a dificult word to use, i like it
on some deleted poem
2 May 2004, 11:17 AM
may fit better as a pimple, despite its acrosticness (word?)
on some deleted poem
3 May 2004, 9:32 AM
words cannot describe
on California triolets by zodiac
7 May 2004, 12:40 AM
I have only one criticism. Could you have used a different phrase for being very tired? Perhaps dead tired instead of dog tired? I'm being picky, but I was continually hung up on the word "dog." Otherwise the poem is extremely well done, I agree with everyone elses comments... wonderful imagery.
on Tomorrow's Dance by RevHydra
3 Jun 2004, 11:34 PM
reading it several times helps... believe me, i agreed with god'swife at first, but it starts to resemble something
on some deleted poem
30 May 2004, 9:20 PM
double entendre with the title? perhaps... as far as the poem itself, it flows well because you obviously vented, allowing stream of consciousness to control the direction. maybe leaving it for a day and coming back to edit would have made an impact on the poem
while the quality of your poems is staying constant, you need to find new material... go back to all of your poems; how many, when summed up, have the same underlying inspiration? if you're still having trouble leaving this topic, try telling it from one or both of the guy's perspective(s), could be interesting
on some deleted poem
30 May 2004, 9:27 PM
good poem (sorry for the lack of insight), but one question... i haven't been on in awhile; why did a bunch of you change your names, and why is zodiac now posting from an anonymous IPS with his user name deleted?
on some deleted poem
31 May 2004, 7:17 PM
everything i'd say positive or negative has been said, no need to repeat everyone else in different words.
on Spitballing by INTRANSIT
31 May 2004, 7:19 PM
"they, in horror, looked on" breaks the flow of a limerick, and i agree that the last line is weak. take out the commas from the horror line and that part is fixed... the rest is up to you
on The Folded Ways Your Eyes Cave by horus8
31 May 2004, 7:21 PM
villanelles are tough poems to keep fresh from stanza to stanza with all the line repetition... very well done, solid on the form and vivid in content.
on smokestack blues by wilco
31 May 2004, 7:23 PM
i work in the music industry, and as far as a lyric goes this would be extremely difficult to put to music. as a regular free verse poem i'd give this a 9, but as a lyric i have to drop to an 8. very good imagery, by the way
on some deleted poem
31 May 2004, 7:26 PM
is this really a prose-poem, or is it more free verse? doesn't matter either way, i enjoyed it... my only criticism is that a couple lines (nowhereman pointed out one of them) try too hard to be poetic and mysterious... explaining something isn't always a no-no in poetry.
on some deleted poem
31 May 2004, 7:31 PM
i enjoyed the sexual undertones, a nice deviation from the standard poems on this subject found throughout this site. i tend to agree that staying on the same topic gets repetitive, but it's often difficult to find inspiration in things that don't excite you, or things you don't usually think about. try changing it up; write this poem from the other person's perspective, see what happens.
on some deleted poem
1 Jun 2004, 9:54 PM
This poem is not addressed to you.
You may come into it briefly,
But no one will find you here, no one.
You will have changed before the poem will.
Even while you sit there, unmovable,
You have begun to vanish. And it does no matter.
The poem will go on without you.
It has the spurious glamor of certain voids.
It is not sad, really, only empty.
Once perhaps it was sad, no one knows why.
It prefers to remember nothing.
Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago.
Your type of beauty has no place here.
Night is the sky over this poem.
It is too black for stars.
And do not look for any illumination.
You neither can nor should understand what it means.
Listen, it comes with out guitar,
Neither in rags nor any purple fashion.
And there is nothing in it to comfort you.
Close your eyes, yawn. It will be over soon.
You will forge the poem, but not before
It has forgotten you. And it does not matter.
It has been most beautiful in its erasures.
-Justice-
You may come into it briefly,
But no one will find you here, no one.
You will have changed before the poem will.
Even while you sit there, unmovable,
You have begun to vanish. And it does no matter.
The poem will go on without you.
It has the spurious glamor of certain voids.
It is not sad, really, only empty.
Once perhaps it was sad, no one knows why.
It prefers to remember nothing.
Nostalgias were peeled from it long ago.
Your type of beauty has no place here.
Night is the sky over this poem.
It is too black for stars.
And do not look for any illumination.
You neither can nor should understand what it means.
Listen, it comes with out guitar,
Neither in rags nor any purple fashion.
And there is nothing in it to comfort you.
Close your eyes, yawn. It will be over soon.
You will forge the poem, but not before
It has forgotten you. And it does not matter.
It has been most beautiful in its erasures.
-Justice-