That was a good one, Sox. I have never thought of pens having lives of their own or how they feel toward their masters. Or could it be that they are the masters and we the servants? Whatever the case, I have always had a deep and abiding love affair with pens. But sadly, my heart was broken when I developed a degenerating neurological condition that made it impossible to write. I can still type and do so on one of my many typewriters or my laptop. Pens, I love them still and will always pick up a nice one even though I can't use it.
Your essay about pens is totally unique. I can really dig it.
This is another excellent poem. As I was reading, I felt how smoothly was the flow of your writing. I would suggest using punctuation to better define your train of thought. Some poets feel that the tenor of the poem will overpower the need for diacritical markings. It is my opinion that they are mistaken.
I look forward to seeing more of your work. Keep up the great work.
Welcome to our writing world, K. It is good to have you, and I believe that you are going to add a bit of style and grace to our community.
As for your offering here, I thought that it was excellent. It was a penitent's prayer
of quality and truth. Would that all seeking the face of God expressed themselves so eloquently. A most excellent work.
Don't forget to set up your bio so we can know a little more about you.
This was another excellent piece of work, Kathie. Your poem shows the maddening cycle of addiction, the skin-crawling torture. No one who hasn't been an addict can really know how it feels, but we can imagine that it is a private hell.
I believe your poem revealed this torture. Well done in pulling back the curtain on the misery of many.
This is a very interesting poem you wrote. Since we are to a great extent polar opposites in what we think and like (I read your bio) I could take issue with some of what this poem says. I wouldn't do that, for this is not the place for such.
I did think your poem was well written. Your poem feels as though it was written from the heart. Of course, all poetry should be heart-felt. In any case, I liked it very much and enjoyed the read.
This is quite the excellent poem. The rhythm and rhyme work perfectly for me. It's interesting how you use a fish theme throughout, except for the mouse pate. I only mention that with humor because there is no evidence to suggest that cats favor fish over meat. After all, they are carnivores. Of course carnivores do eat fish.
All in all, I think highly of this piece. It's the cat's pajamas.
I believe I agree with you, Coffee Queen, if indeed I understand you correctly. As a professing Christian, I have often written on similar themes. It is most difficult for those who see themselves as believers to grasp that the only thing that qualifies them as believers is faith. Although they make take to the soapbox to expound that God is the quintessential reality, they could not prove it if they were called to. They must always retreat to faith as their only haven.
To be sure, Tim, this has occurred time and time again. Don't worry, I'm not writing a rhyming review. I have received those and they tend to aggravate me.
I did appreciate the subject matter of this work because it has often echoed through past history, and even now. Your rhythm is consistent and works well. As I notice that this piece has not been reviewed before, let me be the first to say to you, well done.
Well, Anna Marie, I'm not sure whether this is a true story or not or does it really matter? You say that you were born into a chaotic situation but don't describe what that situation was. Just being born to parents who are significantly different in age is not a guarantee of difficulty. I also don't see why you felt like the odd-sock or why the family would reject you. What would have caused you to be the black sheep? It is also very strange that the doctor was telling you that he could kill your mother quietly. After all, we are talking about assisted suicide. There are just a number of things I don't understand about this story. One example would be your age when you made the decision for the doctor to administer a lethal dose of morphine. Your story is full of loose ends. It would be wise for you to go back and connect the dots.
So, here we have it. I don't know what the rest of your writing is like. You may hit the nail on the in other works, but in this one, not so much. This is only my opinion and other reviewers may disagree with me. Don't take all that I have said to the bank. Look at the story again and see if there are places where you can tighten it up. I plan on reading more of your work.
Hi, Norman. I'll have to say that I didn't see that coming. You snuck up on me with that one. I was beginning to feel a little sorry for you with your losses in the grass wars. This piece reminds me of when I used to watch "The Brady Bunch." They always had this beautiful green lawn. You guessed it, it was Astroturf.
This piece works well. I might suggest reading it to yourself aloud to check the rhythm and placement of words. The position of words is crucial and there are so many variables. In the end, you have to make a decision on the words you will use and their placement. Editing is a never-ending job. I don't do enough of it.
Finally, I loved this piece. It brought a smile, and I imagine that's what you wanted it to do.
This is a nice poem, Bob. I like the rhythm of the rhymes which work very well. Most of all, I like the reminiscence of times past when you can think back with a smile and often wish you could go back and do it over again - but with your present understanding and knowledge. How great would that be?
I say that it is an all-around excellent poem, especially for fellows like men who have a love affair with the past.
They call it bait, Alex. Norman was baited and went for it. Now, you would have to wonder how this creature eats unless there are more species on the planet. Maybe that question should be explored. I also don't understand Jack's attitude about where he is. Wouldn't being on Mars fill one with wonder? Jack acts like he just landed in the California desert.
There are many things to explore in this story, and every advantage should be taken of them. The story would, of course, be quite a bit longer, but I think that is a small price to pay for fleshing it out fully. It's good work, but you need to take it to the next level.
Good morning. LC. It is very rare that I focus on negatives in a piece of work, but I will have to say that this piece seems all over the place. I also noticed (in my opinion) that you were plucking words out of the air because they happened to rhyme. I really don't want to mention the F word. It seemed to be wholly superfluous.
I know what you are attempting to say, but there is anger in those words. To a certain degree, I fully understand the frustration. Why add a despairing poem to an already despairing situation, despair upon despair.
These are my opinions. I'm sorry if they may upset you. please understand that have no intention of nullifying your feelings, but I do believe that you could insert more hope into the situation
Alright, Busman, it's late down here in Louisiana but you have been chosen. I recently did a review of Big Jack's story so I chose one that wouldn't break me up so badly. Let me begin by saying that I review and rate content, not technical style. You can have all that mumbo-jumbo about how poems should be written.
'Misinformation' is simple and right to the point. You are describing a fact of the world we live in. From politicians to car salesmen, it's all the same. Our country is in big trouble, and it does concern me as to what the people are going to do about it. There is one thing that seems inevitable, as, at other times in history, people reached a breaking point. We too will reach that point.
You described the current situation succinctly. Who knows what will happen next.
Hello, Brittany. We'll speak of this writing block thin in a moment, but first the poem.
I consider this work very clean, concise, and easy to follow. There is no trying to guess what the poet is attempting to convey. In my opinion, this is what poetry should do, convey a clear message. As a reader, I don't want to have an Enigma Machine (what the Germans used to communicate with their U-Boats in W.W. II.) to decode the message. You did a wonderful job of keeping it short and simple. Well done.
Now, as for this writing slump, don't let it take control. All writers go through periods when there is no wind to fill the sails. Such a lull feels like it will never end, and then you feel a slight breeze on your face. One excellent way to get the juices flowing is to begin reviewing the work of others. Some people feel that if they have no ideas they can't help anyone else. That is not true. The very act of reviewing stirs your own imagination and fires the act of writing. You may think your talent has gone dormant. It may look that way, but when the season is right your art will burst forth.
Now, Beholden, here you are like the man who rode off in all directions. Where in the heck did you get the idea of having to own a detective in order to lose one? Couldn't the detective simply be lost? Maybe he zigged when he should have zagged. If you were the detective you would be lost indeed. Oh! Maybe the detective was lost because he didn't know Jesus as his savior. That would be a twist that no one expected.
This was a very humous post. I enjoyed it, for it has so many possibilities.
It is difficult to quantify so much loss on any scale. How does one deal with it all? I see what you have done, like the many writers that have gone before you, you reached for the gift that God has given you, the wonderful healing balm of words
Once again, you have taken the reader to a world few would choose to visit but would be at a loss if they did not.
A most excellent poem, Constance. In fact, I would call it beautiful. The scene is as though I were admiring a canvas from an artist that I will come to admire. I can imagine myself there with you in that garden of stones. Everything there seems to carry on with the constancy of life. And yet, though other things may continue, you remind us of what is important.
Great job, Uchee. I think you did a good job of conveying the frantic tension of the situation. So, Mrs. O'Leary's cow gets the rap. No one will ever really know what started the fire, but there are always theories.
Once again, you did a fine job of bringing the conflagration to a compact story. Who knows, your story might be more truth than fiction. Well done
Thanks a lot, Busman, for breaking my heart this early in the morning. What a great tribute to Big Jack. My wife and I have always had a cat; the cats actually had us and allowed us to share their house. After our last companion passed away we said we would never put ourselves through that loss again. Wouldn't you know it, we then inherited our daughter's dog. Dogs and cats, we're just animal lovers, with a special affinity for cats.
If anyone reads this poem and doesn't cry, they're missing something inside. Yours was a wonderful poem to a very special cat.
Well, My, I have gone through several of your rhymes. I wonder if life is as trite as your words seem to describe. The three works I read were very short. Of course, there is nothing wrong with short; better short than laboriously long. This present piece sounds as if one is making the final swirl down the drain. Is this truly all you had to say at that particular moment? If so, well done. Is your work a genuine recitation to your mind? I think I will stroll through your catacombs a bit more. Keep up the intriguing work.
It does indeed often feel as though we are reaching into the dark without what we will pull back from that abyss. However, that does not keep us from groping. I will say that our poems should have a very clear meaning, but readers often miss that meaning though it is clear to us.
I enjoyed this piece. If we attempt to write poetry, we always will wonder how it will evolve.
I liked this poem, not least because I love German Shepherds. I have a half shepherd. I will not say that I own him, because I'm not sure who owns who. He is my best friend, aside from my wife.
A very touching piece. Well done.
My Compliments,
Crow
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