"I Am The One," by Taylor Paape, states a death wish and presents other suicidal ideation. This dark poem claims a 2006 copyright and, apparently, the author is still with us. I hope te feels better.
For all of its pessimistic darkness this contribution still has considerable artistic merit. The rhyme, rhythm, and sounds of the poem are strong and give the poem an almost inexorable force -- which is scary considering its subject.
I suppose the primary value of a piece like this is to vent, to create an outlet for feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy. Either that or it is a cry for help.
We usually think of a "pissing contest" in figurative terms. Here that term reaches new heights (so to speak) literally.
This is a humorous and playful contribution on the war between the genders. It rhymes well and need I mention that it really flows.
There's an old story about two wise old monks talking in a Southeast Asian country. The first monk says, "Thanks to Buddha that children grow up." The second monk responds, "Yes, and thanks to Him that they don't." Growing up is about choices. We need to know when to do the responsible thing. We need to know when to do what makes us feel good.
This is a nice, short, provocative piece that emphasizes the "feel good" choices.
"We are the Spirit," by Inker, presents a pretty contribution to the "Nature Reveals God" theme. This piece describes a beautiful idyllic beach setting made even more perfect by the presence of family members having a good time. The piece describes ocean sounds, sights, and tactile feelings exquisitely. As a descriptive exercise alone this contribution is worth reading.
The author then draws a spiritual lesson from her communion with nature. We have all seen this before, and it is not always inspired by the sea. Nature's revelation of God, Truth, or, as Inky describes it, "The Spirit," may come upon the receptive participant in the North woods of Minnesota, the Mountains of Colorado, or other beautiful natural sites. It rarely comes upon us on the streets of New York of the lights of Las Vegas, but I suppose it could.
As one who has not experienced spiritual epiphany in communion with nature I suppose I am a little skeptical--but only a little. Inker's testimony has an undeniable ring of truth to it. Either way, this is a powerful contribution.
The writer of "Dance" requests a review to help with his descriptive writing.
The piece alternates between dance scenarios. The first is a dated traditional ballrom dance scene. The second is a modern dance club. The reader has no clue as to the mechanism or reason for the back-and-forth between these two environments. While the old "compare and contrast" themes easily arise, the contrasts jar and the disorientation impacts the description.
As for pure descriptive writing, the author paints a sharp contrast. He contrasts the rooms, the furnishings, the music, the social conventions, even the dishes. Describing words, adjectives and adverbs, describe nouns, verbs, and other descriptors. Firefly uses a lot of descriptors. More is usually not better when talking about use of adjectives and adverbs. For some reason, they get in the way and distract. I would recommend deleting all--yes, all--adjectives and adverbs from this piece. Then, Firefly, you can go through it again and reinsert the descriptors when they are really needed to tell the tale. I think you would be surprised at how few descriptors you need and how the piece is improved without them.
This contribution is the prologue and/or the first chapter of an as yet untitled nove.. There are pockets of fine writing here. The author introduces the central character. She writes in the first person, except for a brief beginning, which is in the third person, omniscient, and seems to be the prologue. The setting is a northern town or city and at least the prologue is set in late fall to early winter. The author introduces herself, her sister, an abusive father, a mysterious 40 year old man who takes her under his wing, and she begins to introduce a boy who appears to be headed for a romantic interest. The author adequately but sparely describes the characters. At this point the central conflict appears to be survival in a threatening environment.
This would all be done quite competently if not for numerous errors of grammar and syntax. The piece needs a careful and thorough edit. Without doing a line by line edit (that's your job), please allow an example or two: you refer to "frequent girls" in a coffee shop who order certain drinks. It is not the girls, but their drink orders which are frequent. Yet you modify the noun "girls" with the adjective "frequent," an error. Most of this is writtenin the past tense, but there are lapses, as when Dave "comments." He should have "commented." There are quite a few more such errors and I think you will recognize them if you try.
These are not big deals, I know, but you should go for a standard of perfection, not just bare understanding. Some authors choose to think carefully, choosing each word and each sentence with detailed deliberation. Others prefer to write fast, get it all down, then edit out the mistakes. I think the second way works better, but you need to make sure you go back, roll up your sleeves, and do the work.
From a content and art standpoint I think you may have something here so I encourage you to give your piece the time and attention it deserves.
"The Notepad," by glasnost0, is unusual. First, it is written in the second person, as advice and direction to the reader. There are no characters, no conflict, no setting, no dialogue, and no action. There is description of a mundane note pad, available in just about any store.
The strength of the story is in the author's description of the powers of the notepad. The powers are, of course, in the reactions of those who see someone recording their action or statements on the pad.
This is an ingenious and creative story. In my opinion the idea of the powerful notepad could be strengthened by using it in a plotted story.
This wonderful account of the convention of the poetry hall of fame is a big must for anyone who likes, or has ever liked, the old poets. They're all there and you can get a little slice of their styles in high satirical form. The rhyme flows like fine wine. The wit is razor sharp.
This is the best poem I have read in four months on this site.
This contribution demonstrates your ability to verbalize complex concepts powerfully and graphically. The conflicting aspects of love create a difficult dilemma of competing emotions. You color the tension very well.
On the other hand, there are far too many grammatical and syntax errors. Your nouns and verbs frequently disagree, using singular nouns with plural verbs and vice versa. Your use of the lower case "i" to refer to yourself is an annoying distraction and does not work here as a poetic device.
I believe that you are good with words and that you wrote this quickly as a stream of conscience outpouring. That is fine, but now it needs attention to detail to clean up the mistakes.
"Nigochiaa," a nice little story about boys and girls playing an Indian game, makes the point that children are pretty much the same the world over, whatever the name of the game. The by-play between teammates and rivals, and between the boys and girls, gives this story both its charm and its universality. Nigochiaa, the game, is the chips and the children who play are the salsa.
Though there is some competition in the game, there is no primary conflict for resolution. The characters endure minor irritations brom opponents and from the girls, but not in the sense of a classic conflict element in a story. The dialogue sensitively describes events and moves the story along. The setting, in India, is a recreation area of a compound. The cultural element of this setting, as well as the physical element, could be developed more to enhance the story.
All in all, this was an enjoyable piece that provides some enlightenment as to a culture most of us know little about.
This spaceholder provides access into the motivations and methods of a top webmaster. Its confessions are startlngly frank. We learn that decisions are made not strictly on business for profit motives, but that, at the top, human emotions also come into play.
The presentation here is an unabashed revelation. The author employs no images, metaphors, literary conventions, or symbols. The raw power of candor carries stunning impact.
Read this, quickly, before the spaceholder disappears into the voidness of cyberspace.
Tim Chiu, with his tongue embedded deeply in his cheek, takes to task those of us who subject ourselves to meritless writing in "Getting Ripped on Sterile Gibberish."
Do we really "get ripped" or do we waste our precious time when we "work out" on inadequate and "untested" pieces? Speaking personally, I enjoy this site and work out on it to the point of diminishing returns. But there are times when I share Mr. Chiu's pointed critique of the value of it all.
It is easy to say you can just move on if you don't like it, and that is true. The trouble is with the investment you have to make before you set an item aside.
This is not an lol poem -- more of a sardonic, almost sad smile producer. But it's well-done and should be read by anyone serious enough to read pupblic reviews.
This chapter creates interest, introduces characters, suggests conflict, and poses questions for later resolution. The setting could be stated more clearly and specifically, thoughyou need to find a way to do this consistent with the central character's disorientation.
Horror conventions have it that vampires detest sunlight and crosses. This character exhibits negative reactions to both, so you create an assumption that we may be heading into a vampire story.
The writing is fine, with a consistent point of view, spare but crisp description, nice narrative action, and authentic dialogue. There is plenty of tension and we find ourselves rooting for the central character -- even if he is a vampire.
You have launched a good story with all the ingredients.
"Butterflies Die" screams "angst" through two verses and two choruses of this lyric. It emphasizes and repeats his "suicide eyes," (whatever that means) and his tearing apart fragile butterfy wings. After all of this it seems he was just kidding for the poem tells us that "nothing dies today" and "innocence can fly away."
The poem never lets us in on the secret of why all the anguish in the first place, nor why it disappeared, except that "he digs inside his lonely heart."
On the positive side, there is some richness of language here. If the poet figures out what he wants to say, he certainly has some skills and tools to say it coherently and artistically.
"The Hooting Owl," by Tim Chiu, provides haunting descriptions of the forest and its birdlife inhabitants.
In most "nature poetry" the poet idealizes nature in an almost heavenly way. There are frequent suggestions that renewal and other good things happen to people who "get back to nature." Not so here.
Mr. Chiu makes an observation that the sights, and particularly the sounds, of the forest generate in man an increased appreciation for "the safety and security of civilization."
This poem presents without rhyme or formal structure and that is fine. We know from Mr. Chiu's children's poetry that he has mastered rhyme, meter, and structure. His deliberate departure from those conventions is artful and effective.
His thoughtful premise and effective presentation show that Mr. Chiu has great range.
"The Boy Under the Sun," by Raghav Rao, is a thoughtful discourse on opposites in the universe and the complex interplay between them. The author touches on warm and cold, young and old, haves and have nots.
The story may be over-written for some tastes. The point about the complexity of the universe is stated and re-stated several times. The paragraphs are long and, frankly, a bit turgid. The style is more verbose than we usually see.
Still, the story has a certain charm. Its setting (India?) presents a cultural adventure. There is some creativity and novelty in building a story around a philosophical belief where the characters and the action serve the philosophy instead of the other way around.
If the reader can bear with considerable explicit philosophical discourse and a style that might be a bit overblown, there will be a payoff that makes this piece a worthwhile read.
Doug Rainbow
"The Pain Within," by Jaya, powerfully describes the physical and emotional torment of pain. There are clues concerning the source of this pain. Initially I suspected a dysfunctional love relationship based on the references to deceipt, pretense, and a practiced smile. But I don't think so. These references are to the narrator's own efforts to keep her pain from being recognized by others, as she tells us no one else knows of it. The "ever present ache" is literal. The poem speaks of a disturbing noise, a cacophony, that "none can clear." I see this as a metaphor for the persistent, irritating, intrusiveness of her pain. I think of a bell that won't stop ringing or an alarm that keeps on blasting and, yes, those things are painful. The narrator's only hope is the light at the end of the tunnel. I suppose that is death.
I hope this contribution is not autobiographical.
The poem presents without rhyme, but there is plenty of reason to read it. We have here a poem of high intensity but still always remains in control.
Thank you for affording us an exceptional reading experience.
"Glass Heart," by Cass, touches the phenomenon of how a gift of a sentimental object takes on a personality and emotional overtones.
I don't think it is accidental that the gift in the poem was a glass heart. I can make a case that the narrator's heart was broken. After all, the heart is more fragile than glass. She is now the treasure hunter seeking love and finding it in the imagined re-awakening of the heart.
Further, the giver of the glass heart probably died. The heart lies sleepin in a dark velvet box -- a coffin is a dark velvet lined box.
Without being cloying or emotionally hysterical, Cass very convincingly remembers a deceased lover, aided by his gift, and finds comfort in attributing his being to his gift, thereby keeping alive the love.
I recommend this short piece as an artistic and satisfying contribution.
"Anniversary Party," by Jaye P. Marshall, raises a nice catalogue of issues: aging, health care, the power of love, and suicide. An elderly lady injures herself in a fall shortly before he scheduled Golden Anniversary party. Despondent and in intense pain, she resists the efforts of her care givers and ruminates about insurance and health care. She doubts her own value and contemplates suicide. At the end, she recognizes that she can still make positive contributions to the care of her ailing husband. She shows resolve to participate in her own recovery by asking for despised food cans used as weights in physical therapy.
Ms. Marshall treats all issues gracefully and with sensitivity. Her points are made indirectly but clearly. Ms. Marshall generally paints with a broad brush and only very selectively chooses to detail particular items or events to enhance the story, e.g., the medication placed at the patient's bedside. Generally the reader fills in the details of the hospital settiing, which is fine and perfectly fair. We all know what hospitals are like and the author spares us what we already know.
This contribution earns my highest recommendation, not only for its literary and technical merit, but also because it is an absorbing and satisfying reading experience.
I enjoyed reading this contribution, with its clever rhymes and tongue-in-cheek wit. Margaret the Egret (isn't that a poetic name?} decides to explore the adventures of infidelity. It appears that Egret morality is roughly equivalent to that of humans in this regard. Maybe they are a little more relaxed. Anyway, Margaret moves in a new direction, but continues to meet the needs of her former lover, to the contentment of all concerned. As I said, their morality may be a little more relaxed.
This is a charming and enjoyable short piece, original, and worth reading. I don't know if the moral model would work for most of us, but, hey, these characters are birds.
If you like bird romances I wrote "The Crystal Stork" which is about a romance between a crystal stork and a ceramic turtle.
Like life, this seemingly simple story of lost love is really very complex. A country western singer and his lady struggle forsuccess in his field. The lady makes no complaint and shares the hardships -- even embraces them -- with her man. As he achieves, new tensions infect their relationship and she leaves. Even in his success, the singer still laments her loss. But at the end she does not return and he does not opt to go seek her out. He steps into the dark, presumably to further advance his career.
One construction of this piece is that the satisfaction is in the journey, not in the destination. That is supportable. The singer and his lady both seemed fully engaged in upward mobility and were willing to share its projected rewards. Having achieved the singer's goals, the glue that cemented their relationship cracked and they drifted apart.
Another construction is that this is about choices. The couple mutually chose to go for the rewards of success and their shared struggle held them together. In achievement the singer made some choices which may or may not have further advanced his career, but the lady was excluded. Enough strain and enough exclusion motivated her to make another choice. And leave him, she did. So each made choices leading to a break-up which, if not inevitable, was predictable. After much soul-searching and heartache, he makes yet another choice at the end of the story. He steps into the darkness by himself.
The story is direct and artful. None of this analysis is found in the literal words of the story. Whatever the reader takes from this story is his or her own reaction to a stated set of facts, with some literary hints orivuded in the country songs integrated into the story. This is art, craftsmanship, and storytelling at a high level. It is worth reading and most of us could take a lesson from it.
This poet is a skilled wordsmith. He doesn't use traditional rhyme, but he uses plenty of internal rhyme, alliteration, and assonance, with the result that it sounds great. He has a nice, rich vocabulary and there are numerous vivid images.
My problem with the piece is that I have no idea what it means. Don't get me wrong. I am virtually certain that there is deep meaning, and perhaps more than one, packed into all of this good sounding rich language. I just don't get it. I could be wrong, but I believe some of the allusions are to the Book of Revelation, a book I have read but didn't fully comprehend either.
This is a good question-raising and attention-getting piece. The hospital descriptions are authentic. The dialogue is realistic. The author draws in the reader well.
I do have a style suggestion. Let me illustrate. Try this paragraph
Although it reminded her vividly of chlorine, there was an added, nameless scent that made it sickening. A steady, annoying "beep-beep-beep" intruded upon her ears from somewhere around her. There was an echoing of voices around her; their soft murmurs crept in as she slowly regained consciousness. A bright light was beginning to erase the darkness her eyelids had created, adding to the ache in her head.
Like this:
The odor reminded her vividly of chlorine, but an added nameless scent made it sickening. A steady, annoying "beep-beep-beep" intruded. Voices echoed around her, softly murmuring, creeping in as she slowly regained consciousness. A bright light began to erase the darkness of closed eyelids and added to her head ache.
If you will write with an effort to eliminate unnecessary words and narrate more actively it might improve your presentation.
This piece is very good, but it could be even better.
The author says this is about jealousy and betrayal. In fact the last two lines of the fifth stanza are:
He tricked, fooled and betrayed me,
corrupted me with jealousy.
It is the response to this jealousy that perplexes. The narrator turns and stares at what she has done and her conscience asks, "Why." Whatever the narrator has done "haunts me now." It puts her "on the brink." She predicts a new life "full of pain, sorrow and strife." Finally the narrator recognizes "the time has come at last,/to leave this place I am outcast." All of this suggests that she took some heavy act of revenge --
possibly murder -- and her only recourse is to leave, whether by physical flight or, again possibly, suicide.
While I have presented what evidence is supplied, there may be other interpretations of the narrator's reaction. There is a sense of liberation as she is "born anew into the night." She "feels sweet release" as she "makes her peace." These feelings may be consistent with terminating the dysfunctional relationship short of murder.
At one time in my life I would have been frustrated at the absence of a clear meaning, whether stated directly or by appropriately transparent symbols. At this stage of life I no longer require certainty and I find alternative constructions equally satisfying.
Other reviewers have touched on editing points, and I second their thoughts.
Thank you for an interesting and emotion-filled contribution that left me with an unproven case on whether the narrator did away with her cruel lover.
This contribution, masterfully narrated, delivers an emotional payoff without any gratuitious sentimentality or push-button tricks. It is a riveting story -- one of those stories where the reader forgets where he is and just participates in the story.
I thought this must be autobiographical because it was told with the authenticity of a personal log or diary. And the details were such that "you had to be there." Surprise! The author is too young to have been there. This piece is either painstakingly researched or the facts are very convincingly made up.
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