Reading a poem on a calamitous event which is playing itself out right now is a new experience .
This is a poem reflecting what we, in other countires, are live seeing on TV; but your poem brings the reality to us in an even more visual way because of your very descriptive wording.
The first line of the poem is dramatic.
I loved the imagery and metaphor of:
"New York, New York
The brilliant jewel of a new river"
I think the following has tremendous impact:
"A new collective, elemental memory
Of water, wind, and flame"
This intention of the poem seems to be to take the fear and grief away from the person/s being left behind.
The person who is about to leave this world is not afraid, and takes death in his/her stride,
I like the reassuring and tender message that the one about to depart gives to the still living, and his/her hope that the one left in this world should no shed a tear. This re-inforces the idea that death is something the narrator finds natural, nothing to be alarmed about.
"Eternal SLUMBER" infers that death will be peaceful.
The idea of travelling through life on unspoiled snow is a good metaphor. One cannot cover any of one's tracks, so it is a little scary.
However, it's true that whatever one does in life, wherever one goes (literally and figuratively), does have an effect on your live's path. It makes an impression and, just as your footprint would in snow.
What I' mnot happy about is the fact that one has to run through the snow "Lest the cold of the snow bite". We need to slow down in life, not forever be running in a frenetic way. My I ask why you included the idea of never stopping?
I'd also like to know whether the first verse, which is my favourite, is yours. The concept is very good.
The poem is interesting, mut for me asks more questions than it answers.
I like the subject matter of this poem, as so many women give their bodies for the first time to a man who cares nothing for them. To thereafter find that you have simply been the butt of a joke is distressing, to say the least.
There are many phrases in your poem which I particularly like:
"Some days ago I bestowed a great gem"
"You showed the world and cried to them to jest"
"Innocent was I when I gave my best
Your shadow trumped my light like an eclipse"
"Master of many facades when you claim
Life after life you touch never the same"
You have described perfectly what I experienced. (May I refer you to my short story "BAD RELATIONSHIP"?)
My favourite metaphor in your poem is " .. it bleeds through",
Other excellent and meaningful phrases are to be found throughout this short poem, however, which make it such a powerful and beautiful piece of writing.
"Learning only to cope, only to survive" was relevant to me in my early youth and early adult life, and luckily was immensely relieved after I met my very loving and caring husband. But at the age of 54 (believe it or not!) the hurt resurfaced more strongly than ever.
It was not only the trust issue with my mother; there were plenty of issues with her. She was a good person but, as she had been an orphan from the age of 6, she never learned how to parent/mother and my brother and I suffered the effects.
You obviously have been well educated, and you are unmistakably talented. Your command of English is excellent.
Your self-confidence is evident: you have no need to use your good looks to attract attention. You are a thinker, and know that there is much more to yourself than beauty. You're right - meaningful conversations and exchanging of ideas, cares, vulnerabilites and interests are the stuff of good interpersonal relationships.
How come you never let your attractiveness 'go to your head'? Do you think your parents had anything to do with it?
I wish you success and fulfilment in your writing.
I do not go with the idea of true love being 'romantic' or 'sexual'. Those words describe temporary sensationsor, as you say, "high" notes.
True love is described most beautifully and aptly in the last two verses of your poem.
May I mentions that IF i had written the poem I would have included an element of conflict with the person truly loved, as this is inevitable. But the presiding feeling is one of harmoney, as you say.
I think that you could start this piece with the second paragraph and leave out the first. (Perhaps write on the topic of being shaped by many people separately, in another piece.)
Starting with "I had an argument with my mother, about half an hour ago" would immediately arouse curiosity in the reader. If you agree with this idea, leave out the reference to the people you loved and those you despised, e.t.c. in the second paragraph. (Again, use this when you write on the topic of being shaped by many people.)
Now for my positive feelings about "The Garden": The garden was most beautifully described. You drew me right me into the garden, and into your mind and I was as entranced as you were. Your appreciation of the garden and your mother are convincing and touching. It's a lovely piece of writing.
Another enjoyable story. I was as tense as the narrator, but really looking forward to the "twist at the end" - which completely satisfied me.
Yes, I know that prospective pilots have to meet certain requirements before being accepted for training, and that their personalities are also assessed for suitablity.
Those psycho tests must be very clever to conclude that Q, as unpleasant a character as he was, was perfectly suited for the role.
This story is compelling, written in wonderful language and style, and working its way cleverly to the most surprising word in the last sentence: "paws".
The poetic-like description of dawn dissolving the darkness caught my attention. It is an excellent metaphor.
But I wasn't looking for poetry; I was reading a good story by a writer who has greatly impressed me.
To me this is a very original way of expressing how important a mother is.
It is unusual to think of a mother as being the architect of professional as well as sanitation workers, policemen e.t.c.
I wonder at how different the history of the world would have been if people like Winston Churchhill and Theodore Roosevelt had had different mothers, or if they had not been born!
Your poem also highlights the many roles of a mother.
What I like about this poem you are being openly truthful to yourself and to the writer.
You write in free verse, a form suitable to the very core of truth. Rhyming would have been too contrived for this description of a not completely unusual relationship.
It's amazing how a person can cling to a relationship the he/she knows is far from ideal. But I understand that certain needs need to be met.
The story you tell is clarified by some good lines:
i knew you were no good for me
when you hurt me
it's worth it.
i know the scars will take years to fade
but it's the price of what you bring
This poem is an interesting reflection of the fact that the telling of lies, in one way or another, is so widespread. I was captivated by the theme.
I don't agree with "I'm sorry I must disagree" I believe that the truth does change people, in that one often goes through a maturing process when faced with truths. Have I understood correctly?
Why do you say:
"I live in your world so
Lie to me"?
Is it because you are so fed-up with being fed lies that you simply succumb to the fac that the world is full of lies, or are you being facetious? It would be interesting to know, as it could be interpreted in both ways.
I enjoyed your poem. It rhymes and flows well. In a strange kind of way, although I don't understand the endi, I like the contradiction to the rest of the poem.
I think that this is very good - first poem or not.
What I like the rhythm. The rhyming is not not "forced" - the rhyming words sound natural, and not put there just because they ryhme. (I find that at lot of people use unsuitable words to make their poem rhyme.)
My favourite lines are:
I sit and listen to the sounds
That darkness has to show
and
All these things that can't be seen
Are magic when they're heard
I hope that this encourages you to write more poems. I think you have talent.
I gather that the poem is about the loss of innocence and the deep regret that follows, but knowing a little bit about you, I think you might have hidden more than that.
The imagery is strong, as usual.
To me the poem is good, with some brilliant lines. I especially like:
"The darkest clouds let forth their pain
And as they wept the garden withered"
I feel sad for Jenna. Much effort and expense had been put towards a wedding she did not even enjoy. But she had to commit to marrying Jim. I feel sad for Jim, too, because Jenna would probably be happier to marry Kevin.
Apart from the torn emotions, the story brings to mind a mesage I heard from a religious leader:
So much money and effort is spent for one day - the day of a wedding. How many people continue to put such effort into their marriage? If they continue daily to work on their marriages and meet the challenges that inevitably arise, with the same vigour and energy, the marriage is likely to be a happy one.
Of course, in the case of Jenna and Jim, the marriagemight never be completely happy.
Tim, I gather you've lived half of your lifespan and consolidated your philosophy/ies.
Someone made an interesting point to me recently:
So many people spend endless energy (and a lot of money) to have everything just perfect for their wedding day.
And that is just ONE day - for DISPLAY!
What about the rest of their marriage? In too many cases the couple cease to work as hard as they did fortheir wedding day, and forget or don't care to continue pouring effort into their married relationship. That is what counts most; that is what would probably ensure a successful marriage, a strong friendship and undestanding between the couple, and the ability to ride the difficulties that await them.
As a child, for fun, I used to go into a stranger's garden and steal l lemons, runnning away as quickly as possible. As I read your poem I identified with the little girl, until the second-last verse where only one strawberry was stolen. (I would have taken a skirtful, had I known where to find them!) That made me wonder whether the thief was really a little girl.
Admittedly I am a Newbie, and very amateur, but I was not entirely comfortable with the term "The little girl". You probably chose this wording deliberately - to be a bit misleading, or because you felt the description suited the bird.
I would have preferred someting like "That little youngster's just a thief".
Whatever the case, the last verse left me smiling with tenderness. Your poem was sweet and gentle.
My interpretation is that a pretty, innocent young girl changed her behaviour to suit what was wanted of her by certain men, thus losing her innocence. She started to use make-up (thus becoming more man-made), her sense of who she was and where she was going, until she finally became one of the "demons" comprising loose girls without pride or meaningful purpose.
You are saddened that she changed in this way, because you liked her original purity, and admired her specifically for that.
The first verse is excellent. I love "... city of rusted chains". The words "rusted", "grey", "lonely", "washed away" set the tone of the poem and together evoke a forlorn picture and atmosphere.
So too does the rest of the poem.
I am not sure whether this poem is meant to be an analogy. I take it at face value.
This is a convincing description of a one-night-stand.
It is strange, and one doesn't always know the motives, but girls often tempt men into having sex with them.
The contrasts in your poem are effective:
ice/hot
approaches slowly/Spoken quick
I like:
"Room 318
Cheap wallpaper,
Bland bedding,
Goes unnoticed."
The verse evokes a depraved hotel room.
The last two verses are absolutely typical of what happens the day after the night before.
The whole poem creates an extremely realistic picture.
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