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Sustained (Free verse) by Dovina
With capacity to recognize Shortcomings in himself, The shortfall between his life And his art, He drives toward abasement With inflexible morality, Like a river to the sea, Carrying garbage in its wash. Black eddies shock his soul, Tragedies pinch a narrow life, Something soured, embittered, Like late September smog. He groans and shudders and pushes on. The more he submits to the drag Of moral gravitation, Striving to achieve distance, while cleaving to his friends, The more a reactive thrust rises, Sustaining as he seeks to descend. He drives earthward, pulled skyward, A marvel of levitation. Reactive waves, Rebounding, falling, Rebounding.

Up the ladder: The Stickmen of Fools
Down the ladder: We Are Still Friends

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Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
 GraphVotes
10  .. 30
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.. 00
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Arithmetic Mean: 6.6666665
Weighted score: 5.8333335
Overall Rank: 1625
Posted: June 25, 2004 2:22 AM PDT; Last modified: June 25, 2004 2:22 AM PDT
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Comments:
[2] god'swife @ 4.232.201.121 | 25-Jun-04/9:22 AM | Reply
'With' is such a terrific word to start a poem. I think all poems should start with the word 'with'. That would be awesome!

Hey, wordsmith, why don't try showing HOW he recognizes his own shortcomings, instead of taking the easy way out?
[n/a] Dovina @ 24.52.157.176 > god'swife | 25-Jun-04/3:04 PM | Reply
I take your vote and comment here and your co-opting my title for your recent post as retributions, perhaps deserved. You have been with poemranker for a long time and have written some good poems, made a lot of deservedly respected comments, and have generally established yourself here as someone worth listening to. I could say that your Bukowski poem does not follow the generally accepted elements of poetry and therefore give it a 2 or something. But I like what you are saying and would give a ten, as many others have done, whether it tells, shows, or conforms or not. I could say the same for much of your work.

I am new, and you have far less with which to judge me, but apparently it has been enough. I have written “a piece of utter fucking crap” and I am one of the “stupid, spineless, folk.” I didn’t mind that so much and figured it was part of a general rant. That’s why I said, “Thank you for finding my poem a suitable place to vent your frustrations.”

But your diatribe continued: “How much thought did you put into this poem? How much have you studied about the craft of writing poetry? If this poem is any measure I would have to assume the answer to both these questions would be 'none'.” “You are flat out telling me that God has a special Wonderland . . .” “If you want to write a poem about your faith . . . then it would be far more interesting and touching to show me what in your life has convinced you of this.” These comments are far more cutting than the first.

I responded: “I find it a great comedy that people who devote so much energy to the accurate phrase, the descriptive word, can mire under word-clouds of misunderstanding. The audience reading this will surely laugh as I say that you have totally misunderstood or I have totally mis-written. Sorry to have bothered you.”

From there it only got worse. I’m not seeking a feigned look of sisterly understanding. I would rather hear your bashing if that’s what you mean. In that case I will have to decide how to act in a world where a significant fellow voyeur is hostile.
[2] god'swife @ 4.232.108.192 > Dovina | 28-Jun-04/1:01 PM | Reply
I felt a certain hostility from you before I ever felt one towards you. It's extremely difficult, to say the least, to guess at the motives or intentions of a human being by reading some typed out words. Here is a brief history of our relationship so far from my POV, naturally.

I read your poem Riddle of Creation and I didn't like it, most especially because of title. I read your poem Quiet Hills(sorry, I know the titles wrong) and liked it. At that particular time I had just finished Clear Night Rising, which has quit a bit in common with your Hills poem, and which by coincidence, was originally titled 'June Hills' I changed the title as I was submitting it because I didn't like the way it looked. I thought it was cool that your poem had a similar title and a similar theme as my poem. After reading your two poems I was rummaged around the site, as I tend to do before I feel 'in the groove' enough to comment on anything. I ran into McFan's comment on the comments page, and it pissed me off, because it, in my oppinion it was completely inappropriate to the poem, and just one more example of poemranker stupidity. After I posted my reply to McFan's comment, you posted a reply to me which I took/mistook to mean you are pretty level-headed with a goodly amount of self-esteem and I could just be straight-forward with you. You asked me to critiqque your poem so I did. what you don't know is that right after I posted my critique I went to your Hills poem and praised it. 'How much thought....'.'How much have you studied...' were issues I approached again on that poem in comparison to the Riddle poem. These two poems are so completely different when it comes to a show of talent, as to appear to be written by different people. I can see how the critique I left on the Riddles poem offended you. I didn't mean it as such. I posted "...If this poem is any measure I would have to assume the answer to both these questions would be 'none'.” IF this poem is a measure. IF, which it is not. I would have to ASSUME. I count much on assumption. I was just trying to say the poem doesn't stand up to your ability. I never never never claimed that you were one of the spineless folk. I never insulted you personally, I insulted your poem, it deserved it. Go look at it.

After writing my comment on your Hills poem I hit submit and the site had a brain fart, so I went back to the comments page to see if it had posted, that's when I saw your reply to my critique of your Riddles poem. After reading that and your hurt reply on my Clear Night poem or what ever the fuck it was, I just wrote you off.

(I'm posting the rest of this comment seperately because it won't allow me to post the whole thing as one great big gush of hot air)
[2] god'swife @ 4.232.108.192 > Dovina | 28-Jun-04/1:02 PM | Reply
Last year my son was placed on the district allstar soccer team. His coach was such a tough son-of-a-bitch most of the parents and kids complained, some even dropped from the team. This coach hurt my son's feelings, he even made my son cry, but he taught my son more, about playing soccer and being responsible and always doing the absolute best you can and not settling for less, than any other person on the face of this earth. My son loves him now, and is more responsible, more thoughtful, and better at everything he does. When ai staarted on this site it was cut-throat. there was not only the usual insults but also a group of honest poets who would rip you a new asshole in a second if you posted crap. I love and miss those people. I need to grow, I take my writing very seriously. I take all poetry very seriously. If you post crap I'll say so. I'm not a hostile person, I would define myself on this site as fed-up and unrelenting. I love praising people and I do when it's appropriate. I wish that comment on your Hills poem hadn't been lost, you probalby would have a better picture of me now, who knows.
[n/a] Dovina @ 24.52.157.176 > god'swife | 28-Jun-04/1:28 PM | Reply
I’m happy to hear that we can cut the crap and get on with poetry. Yes, I’d like to hear what you think of Quiet, Kind Hills, and anything I post. Your comments can be very useful.
[n/a] zodiac @ 65.161.41.48 > god'swife | 28-Jun-04/5:10 PM | Reply
Who were the 'honest poets'?
[2] god'swife @ 4.233.113.177 > zodiac | 28-Jun-04/6:24 PM | Reply
Carl Sandbag, Gregory Torso, Anne Sextongue, Ted Huge, Rod Mckuen, William Shatner and -=Dark_Angel=-.
[8] MR Blobby @ 213.48.74.138 | 25-Jun-04/10:22 AM | Reply
blob blobby blob
[8] Shuushin @ 147.154.235.53 | 26-Jun-04/8:40 AM | Reply
"Semptember smog" is a very nice combo.

the ending is good, but I'm left wondering, despite the pleasant impression, what this is about.
[n/a] zodiac @ 65.161.41.48 > Shuushin | 26-Jun-04/11:31 AM | Reply
This one ex-girlfriend of mine - who, as far as I know, has still never left the state of North Carolina - had no proper conception of tasteful clothes-wearing. She had instead one or two absurd notions which she called 'fashion' (such as not combining a shirt and pants which weren't exactly the same color) which she clung to with a kind of zealot's blockheaded fervor.

I think it's fair to say that you are the Melissa of poetry.
[8] Shuushin @ 147.154.235.53 > zodiac | 26-Jun-04/11:45 AM | Reply
Do you also have a degree in "clothes-wearing" from an accredited "clothes-wearing" educational institution?

Perhaps you instead have many years of "clothes-wearing" (under your belt) or have observed many "clothes-wearing" people who have shown through critical acclaim or other virtue that they are prime examples of fine "clothes-wearing"; this enabling you to judge Melissa's art or science.

Either way, a cleverly fashioned, if not wholely sensible comment - how are you doing with that whole "writing poetry" thing? Done much of that lately?
[n/a] zodiac @ 65.161.41.48 > Shuushin | 26-Jun-04/12:14 PM | Reply
Of course not.

But I do find the thought of forcibly removing myself from poemranker (in 10 days!) tremendously arousing. Just check out this 'off-the-cuff' rhyme:

I'm going to a town
Where everything's brown
And they cut off your hands if you're gay,

But the thought that I might
Get away from this site
Has caused me to uncontrollably spray
All over my 'greenscreen' display.

PS-You might try writing 'wholly' instead of 'wholely', as the first has the advantage of being correct, while yours does not.
[8] Shuushin @ 207.5.211.177 > zodiac | 26-Jun-04/1:29 PM | Reply
Have a good trip. You should consider packing some blank paper along with your dictionary.
[n/a] zodiac @ 65.161.41.48 > Shuushin | 26-Jun-04/11:33 AM | Reply
You are, however, right that this poem is the highest order of nonsense.
[n/a] Dovina @ 64.173.77.254 > zodiac | 26-Jun-04/1:16 PM | Reply
An old poet I once knew saw a connection between a well dressed woman and a writer. Nonsense!
[10] Dan garcia-Black @ 66.159.232.105 | 28-Jun-04/9:18 AM | Reply
Never, never, never end a poem with a word that ends in -ing. It weakens the impact. What were you thinking? Oh, gerunds, too, are words you should not be using. -10- I found the poem to my liking.
[n/a] Dovina @ 24.52.157.176 > Dan garcia-Black | 28-Jun-04/11:51 AM | Reply
Alright, with is not the word to start with, and ending is bad for the ending, perhaps then I'll find gerunial liking. But then I'm always telling. How's my spelling?
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