This is a powerful piece that offers hope to those who have lost someone special in their lives--especially one so young as this child. Various thoughts and feelings go through a person's mind as a loved one grows closer to death: rage, sadness, despair; but in this case, your tears turn into something greater upon reflection, because you know that this child will be with God now. I like your image of the rose and how it is what grows on a thorn, rather than the thorn growing on it because that is so true and it flips everything around in that image and puts a positive spin on something negative, rather than the other way around.
Some suggestions:
--I think the first line should say "sun set" or "sunset" instead of "sun sets" based on how subsequent lines in that stanza are written.
--Second line of the second stanza should have the word "think" instead of "thought" to match the tense of the poem
Good job. My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Go Noticed" .
This is a beautiful prayer. We live in an angry, cynical world where it is easy to have faith in nothing and to trust in no one but ourselves, but with this piece you are consciously choosing to steer away from the easy responses, the common ones, the ones that seem the most natural. Instead, you ask for the fortitude to be able to go against the grain, to have a conviction, to acknowledge your shortcomings and yet still walk forward with your head held high. You are very honest in your desires here, in expressing to God how you wish to respond to these various situations when they appear, and this piece does a good job of taking on a prayerful tone. Good job.
It is so easy for us to look at the world sometimes, or our own lives for that matter, and wonder just what the heck God is doing. Why do certain things happen to us or other people who don't seem to deserve it, and yet people we would deem far worthier of such misfortunes seem to get off scot-free without any problems. It takes a big person, a humble one, to admit that there is more to this life than simply our own limited minds and selves and that there are things at work whose intricacies we couldn't possibly understand, nor were we meant to. Just because we don't understand, doesn't mean we should despair. As this poem concludes, there is still reason to hope--we may not be in the know and not be in total control of everything, but that doesn't mean that things are out of control. We're not God and we're not supposed to be. He is in control even if it doesn't seem like it, and if we stop long enough to realize this, we can take comfort in that knowledge. A good job.
This is a good poem about all of those little things that can lead up to that one moment--that one beautiful, exciting, terrifying, nerve-wracking moment where the you and the person you are with express your feelings for one another in a way that words sometimes cannot do justice to.
The experience is an adrenaline rush and you are very much aware of every last detail: the way the other person smells, the look in their eyes, the way your heartbeat is raging, the way your palms start to sweat a bit, that tickle that races up your spine...this is a good piece. Very well done.
My only correction is that the words "and" and
"feelings" at the end of the second stanza need to be separated to form solitary words. :)
A good poem. I have had this sort of experience on more than one occasion myself, so I know the feeling of complete awe and wonder that God made such a beautiful as part of His way to reach out to me and connect with me. It is indeed part of His show of love for each and every one of us. I am blown away by this sort of thing repeatedly in life, and it is nice to see the same thing occurring in the lives of others.
Some good images are used here, nice descriptions which paint vivid pictures. An interesting message.
Some suggestions:
--"Do not doubt the peaceful lure of the ocean,
for it’s flow is pertaining only to you." It's should be its.
--"Listen to the calming voice which howls through the trees" This seemed odd to me...how can a howling voice calm someone? Is howls really the word you want to use here?
This is done exceptionally well, especially the voice--you can imagine a child relaying the details of who The Sock Monster is, what his M.O. is, how he manages to snatch all of these socks away from folks. And come one, who doesn't love a good secret sock fortress?!?!
The explanation of why the monster would not live in the attic, because of commute/traffic issues is hysterical the way it is worded. Great language. And the parts concerning him only coming for your socks when he is hungry because the smell of the dryer calls to him, and how this is likened to any of us bolting toward the kitchen when we smell a great meal being cooked--very creative.
This is a highly imaginative little story. The speaker just presents everything so matter-of-factly, that we would be hard pressed to disbelieve what s/he is saying to us. This simply MUST be how/why socks disappear, right?! The bit about towels also made me chuckle, because while I never would have thought about a sock monster not having towels, I guess it makes sense.
How easily we fall into traps sometimes. Christians are just as imperfect as anyone else; we make the mistake of chasing after things other than God, too, and always come up empty whenever we do. At the heart of the issue is our human nature and the war that wages within us to remain true to Someone that is real and won't deceive us or let us down like the things of this world will do, depsite their allure and their slyly sweet scent. We take His truth and replace it with something far less secure, far less permanent and fall into the trap again. The Christian life is not easy and this poem shows we need to constantly grow, learn and keep our eyes fixed on Him. Good job.
This is a neat story to read. I love traveling and so whenever I can hear about the travels of another, especially if I have been to the place, I get excited. It sounds like you enjoyed your first trip to NYC.
I went there last summer for the first time, and you are right in your descriptions of the heat--it is stuffy and boy is it muggy. Wow. It sounds as though you were there in Spring as opposed to August like I was, but still, those parts of your story resonated with my memory very well.
And the pizza! Yes, that was something I enjoyed partaking of as well. So greasy, but soooooo good!
Rockefeller Center was one part of the city that I actually did not get to, so it was neat to read your descriptions of the place--ice skating on a hot, summer day actually sounds like a good idea to me, even though the heat was probably ruining the ice somewhat.
I wonder how many people were in your group as you all traveled down the streets? I ask because some of your descriptions did not match my experience at all when I went, but I traveled alone and therefore didn't have to fight for space like you and your group seemed to have done. The people I met were actually quite friendly, and the only folks who truly seemed to be impatient were the cab drivers.
The folks walking the streets do have their own way about them though, I will give you that. I have been to various cities, so I sort of know how that feels now and I'm not intimidated by a new environment like that, so if you just go with the flow (i.e.--walk with a crowd of people across the street even though you maybe aren't supposed to) it all works out. London, New York, San Francisco, Seattle...people on the streets there are all the same: just cross the streets whenever you feel like it.
This was a great read and brought back fond memories of my trip last year. Good job.
It is a difficult thing to lose someone you love and I cannot imagine what it is like for someone to go on who has lost a husband or a wife. It is even more difficult to understand what exactly they must be going through and how they are trying to cope, much less move forward with their lives.
This has an eerie, supernatural vibe to it, but it doesn't really freak out the reader too much if at all. I am not sure if that is good or not, because it would seem that while this event is clearly doing a number on the female in this story, it should perhaps do more to raise the interest of the reader beyond a "this is weird" sort of level.
I do like the internal thoughts of the main character here as she tries to process what is going on with these calls and phone messages. They are a bit hysterical, curious, frenetic and altogether confused. This was done well.
Funny story. Ironic that he could both win and lose on the same day. The part about throwing the match being ridiculous becuase he was going to be able to lose for real all by himself, was pretty good. I used to play tennis, too, so I can relate to the various comments about your body seriously disagreeing with you the day after--especially if you get your butt whooped (unless you actually say "whopped" in your area, I am guessing that "whooped" is actually what you meant to write here) like in this case.
Nice poem. The rhyming almost makes the poem sing-songy, which makes this an even more entertaining read. Very fun. The words are simple, and phrases like "gloomy dark clouds" add to the child-like direction of this poem. The last line is quite good, too--wraps everything up nicely.
This story is engaging because of the descriptions and word choices throughout. The images you depict (moonlight glinting off of white snow, for example) are highly effective and add considerable depth to the experience of reading the story. One can imagine Tom's varied reactions as he espies the child on the hill, imagines the warmth of nearby fires, and gazes at the dancers beneath the waterfall.
The one real problem I have with this story is that it feels incomplete, as you even suggest in your post-script of sorts (which I would really consider eliminating, as it takes away from the effect of your story). It is one thing for a story to have conflicts and resolution, but the conflicts here (alluding to wars between Them and the Fair-Haired ones) as well as the resolution ("And they both continued to cast their New Eyes at the Ninth Snow of the decade, the Snow which would be glorified as one of the most important events of Their lifetime, Everyone’s.") do not have enough weight given to them for the reader to engage in them fully. Why would this Snow be so important? Why is it the Ninth Snow?
Then again, perhaps that is just more my curosity getting the better of me.
I like the idea of having the fountain mirror (no pun intended) some of the things that the people do in this poem, or maybe it doesn't really mirror them, but rather does something to respond to their lives while standing in its own solitude. The image of gushing waters being set against the tears of another is particularly effective. You give the fountain some depth and personality in this poem, and that is commendable. :) Good job.
This is a good beginning. You leave the reader wondering what exactly has happened, and what these folks will do next.
Your narrator's thoughts flow very well and the reader slowly gets a sense of what is going on with some of the people in this group as they speak. Adding the narrator's thoughts concerning their personalities after each of them speaks is a great device for providing the audience with interesting material--I like how you have structured these parts so far.
My only criticism, however, relates to the part I just mentioned. After giving the audience a sense of the narrator's voice, thoughts, etc., through describing some of the folks around him/her, you end this section with a mental list of everyone else in the group. If it were me (and this is just my opinion ), I would find ways to keep describing these other folks in the same manner as you have done with the other folks in this section, even if you just have to sprinkle these parts in at other points in the story. You list eight more people here, so I can understand the feeling of wanting to perhaps glaze over the rest of them in this last paragraph, but I just really like how you introduced the other people in a matter of sentences, whereas these other folks are glazed over in a few words. Just an idea. :)
Title of novel: BOSPHORUS-The Legend
Chapter number: Introduction
Punctuation and grammar problems: some perhaps, depending largely on your affinity for commas.
Plot problems: (anything from suggestions to complications from a previous chapter): Just curiosity more than anything as to how this will relate to the chapters to come.
Questions: None as yet.
General comments: This is my first review in this group, so bare with me if you find there are better ways for me to do this. I am not as yet familiar with all this ML Writing tag stuff either, so don't be surprised if I do a lot of it wrong.
I actually have a very difficult time rating/reviewing items of this sort because I don't know yet how they will tie in with the rest of the story, so this assessment will likely be quite surfacy.
I will say I am interested in this because I wonder what on Earth this will have to do with your subsequent chapters, so in that respect, I say good job. You haven't spoon-fed me a beginning necessarily, and you are piquing my interest.
Eons ago even before some of the most distant stars were created titans roamed the universe. You might want to put commas after "ago" and "created" to help with the flow of the sentence, but comma usage seems to be a point of contention among writers so I'll let you decide. Most of them were lonely because it was their fashion to fight and hate one another. Each one of them wanted to be the only thing ever in creation in existence. A transmutation to their style of existence had to evolve and it did. Between two young giants, Europe and Asia, an attachment formed. Suggested reorganization of last two sentences: "A transmutation to their style of existence had to evolve eventually, and it did so in the form of an attachment between two young giants: Europe and Asia."
This irked their elders. “They are not behaving like titans,” they roared. So they bombarded the link between them with giant hailstones and lightning bolts but the two lovers clung to each other until both were fatally wounded. Insert comma after "bolts". Together they fell upon a forlorn watery blue planet at the edge of the heavens. With their tears flowing in torrents, Europe and Asia reached for each other’s hand on with their last breath; as they were just about to make contact, they expired and turned to stone. That small distance between them was filled with their tears, which is Bosphorus. Unfortunately, I cannot picture this part. I don't know where this little gap is supposed to be exactly, so it doesn't resonate all that well for me. Also the structure of this sentence is a bit off, as the end of it doesn't flow as well as it could. Consider changing it to read "The small distance that lay between them, filled with tears, is named Bosphorus."
When he saw what happened, the sun feeling compassion for the first time stretched his arms and warmed the water between Europe and Asia. Insert commas after "sun" and "time". Then he shook the earth and brought forth life in from the dead rocks.
On clear moonlit nights and on most sunny days, if you gaze long enough into the depths of the flowing currents you may be able to catch a churning flicker of light as an indication of the love between Asia and Europe. Insert comma after "currents".
You have a way with words, Eliot...your poems flow languidly and are filled with lush descriptions and tender moments--this piece is no exception. "The golden, muted light of autumn afternoon bids you seek serenity beyond remembrance" is an excellent line. I really dont' know what else to say about this poem--it is one of the best I have ever read, and I really can't put into words why that is. :)
A nice poem...gentle, stirring, filled with love and admiration for the subject of this poem. The reader easily senses how much this person means to the narrator, and the devotion that the narrator shows to this person is considerable.
I particularly liked the wording of your second stanza...to think of the sun rising and seeing this person, and thus find its "own celestial gift" as you put it, works to great effect here.
This is an interesting piece--many have probably been in the narrator's shoes, and can therefore relate to both the anxiety that accompanies this scenario and the whispered prayers of hope and blessing that would seek to guide the journies of the other, who is far away.
The bookend effect of the poem is also intriguing because it hints at what may have transpired between these two, but specifics are left out, which naturally makes the reader's mind race a little in an attempt to figure out exactly what has taken place. Did the narrator confess his/her feelings for another? Did they perhaps both share some feelings, but jump into an intimate sort of relationship quicker than they ought to have? This makes the reader think more about the text, and to that end, the read is more engaging.
A couple of suggestions/questions:
--The word "among" in your first stanza is problematic. It implies (to me) that you are sifting through multiple things or objects or ideas, whereas the sky, big though it is, is just one entity. You might want to replace it with "throughout", or you could even eliminate it entirely and still maintain the flow of your line.
--The middle stanzas are one big, long run-on sentence, which is fine (I am fan of them, personally :D), but there should be commas here and there to break things up a bit, otherwise it just looks like a bunch of words have been thrown together.
--The last stanza is a bit odd. I am not sure why you put one word on each line, thus making a four-line stanza compared to the other three-liners of yours. That's more of a curiosity to me than anything, I guess.
You have just written the prayer that most Christian parents probably have said for their children for ages. God has made a connection with you, and you now wish to make this extend to your son, and thus keep the love chain going. It is clear in every word you use in this poem that you love him from the depths of your heart, and that you hope that he will come to know God the way you do--even moreso, perhaps. Praying for him to be led by God and to be able to touch others because of the ways He has touched your son is an amazing thing to write about and hope for.
I like the simple structure of this poem, and the attitude of thanks you have towards God for saving your life. You don't use a whole lot of flowery, unnecessary words to get your point across, and that is good because I think to do so would detract from the point of the poem.
A few suggestions:
--When referring to God, you need to decide whether you want to capitalize all of your references to Him or not..."You" and "you" appear and for the sake of consistency, it needs to be one or the other. :)
--You should also decide whether or not to capitalize words at the beginning of every line or not. You left the beginning of the second line of your first couplet lowercase, while all the rest were uppercase, although they all are part of the same sentence. I would suggest lowercase for the lines that don't being with "I" or a reference to God.
--"For you washed me clean white as a dove." I would put a comma between clean and white as there is a break in the rhythm there.
--"You are my light shining bright/That leads the way to all that is right." The first part of this couplet feels awkward; I would consider having "light" and "bright" switch places to improve the flow of this couplet.
It is devastating to be let down by one's parents when talking about love and affection; they are the ones who are suposed to give us our first and greatest taste of this magical emotion, and to be robbed of that is tragic. The pain and bitterness in these words, in these cries is incredibly tangible--even for people who have been more fortunate in this arena. To be so jaded as to know that they would not care, that they would not listen, that they would not support you in anything...the reader has no trouble empathizing with you in this because the pain isn't remote in any way--it is very clear.
I'll bet this is the sort of thing that put a lot of folks over the edge. :) The way you end this with him heading for the psychiatrist's office is very funny and very well-delivered. I also liked the narrator's aside about the cat nearly getting flattened, but then passing it off as unimportant...you can hear him realizing halfway through his tangent that he doesn't really need to be telling you this, even though it is funny.
A story that is short, sweet and right to the punchline. Good job.
I think that a potential hallmark of a great relationship/friendship is when you can write a poem for or about them. This friend of yours must be special, indeed. :)
I especially enjoyed two parts of this poem, and those are parts where you gave us something deeper than just the words you were writing. What I mean is that the reader is given a deeper insight into the nature of your relationship with this person, when s/he reads the couplet, "For the one I'll always laugh with/ (Though I know you've seen me cry)" for instance. It hasn't always just been about happy things and good times with this friend of yours, s/he has been there to see you through the hard ones as well.
The other couplet, "For my friend so full of intellect/ 'Let me copy when you're through!'" is also engaging because we are allowed to feel like we just overheard even the tiniest portion of a conversation, or a joke even.
Both of these give the reader a greater sense of being able to see and feel more of your relationship in action with this person.
Wow...vampires who are allergic to certain blood types...that is brilliant for a comic piece. That's something I've never even stopped to consider. Imagine if vampires really did have to contend with this difficulty, not to mention anything else that comes with it (i.e.--determining what victims are of appropriate blood type, etc.).
You are right, Len does seem like a completely loony bastard. Why on earth would he go up to all of those people and ask if they know who the muffin man is as he considers whether or not to plunge his fangs into their necks? And his reactions to victims that he doesn't approve of are priceless. I know if I were about to have the life sucked out of me, "eep" would not be my first choice for a right answer in my attempt to get the vampire to look for his meal elsewhere.
I was going to make a couple of suggestions about your story structure and word usage (lack of variety at a few points), but your last line saves me from having to do that. It becomes more clear why he is telling the story this way, and so it becomes acceptable. You should correcting these two problems, though:
--"Bobby Bouchet" is actually "Bobby Boucher"
--"Also the age Dr. Quinn...." should be "Also the age of Dr. Quinn...."
Just a couple of little things, really. This was great for some belly laughs.
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The part about throwing the match being ridiculous becuase he was going to be able to lose for real all by himself, was pretty good. I used to play tennis, too, so I can relate to the various comments about your body seriously disagreeing with you the day after--especially if you get your butt whooped (unless you actually say "whopped" in your area, I am guessing that "whooped" is actually what you meant to write here) like in this case.