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Gardener (Free verse) by lastobelus I work now with small green things
and brilliant colours.
The smell of the earth
is deeply ingrained in the ridges of my flesh
and the sky touches down the brim of my hat.
On a rainy day I sit with a paper
and go out later to feel Iâm being watered.
I have a bright yellow oilskin
and the rain runs cold off my forehead
and down my nose.
I have a rosebush named Candy
and one named Sue
and a wheelbarrow.
I have a long, long time
to watch the wild things grow.
Up the ladder:
Cane
Down the ladder:
Leaving Song
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.5
Posted: February 5, 2004 2:28 PM PST; Last modified: February 7, 2004 12:37 PM PSTWeighted score: 5.1788044 Overall Rank: 4894 Comments:
well written with good imagery and a touch of humor...I like it.
Verse 2 is very sweet, could be a poem in itself that image.
I got to agree with you. People can write what they want, and people can comment what they want. Maybe an idea is to write what is wrong with the poem, what you don´t like. This is what kind of critic I would want, and I guess other people to. Some people are just cruel for the fun of it. And that´s not wright!
If poetry were only a true expression of the poet's feelings, then the following would not technically be a poem:
THE POET WAITS FOR INSPIRATION - Dowsing-rod, snake, quarter-pound burrito - Names which I've given my own libido. Sand-trap, horse-face, lady-in-furs - Names which I've secretly given hers.
this is very lovely.
thank you kindly. I know it's not the usual thing for pomeranker, but any detailed comments/crits would be tremendously welcome...
Some things can not be improved upon. Leave this alone!
in this case, I have none; ship it.
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I have started reading some Heaney, and I like his quiet. I realized after watching Lost in Translation how tired I've become of hyperbole and peril. I've been writing some plotless prose lately. No peril, no metaphorical thwacks on the side of the head. You know hemingway's famous fishing short story, guy comes back from the war and goes fishing? That kind of thing.
I'm thinking about the S1.L5 comment. It's an interesting observation. How do you feel about "and the sky touches down the brim of my hat" or "and the sky nudges down the brim of my hat"?
I wrote this as a stealth pome -- something I knew would do well busking (I sold a wack of plaques of this pome) -- but that had semi-covert meaning for me. I respectfully invite you to have another look at S.3 and see if you can find some density of meaning there. But if you do, leave the 9! I ain't grubbing for more vote, dangit.