It is a nice poem that will become nicer if you try to give it some form / pattern / scheme. For starters, you might like to decrease the variation between line lengths.
****************
Like doing the things that scares me the most.
>> scare
***
Your love was like the blazing fire that burned a whole in my heart,
>>> hole
***
I'm not afraid to do the things that scares people the most.
It is a nice poem. You have effectively tried to sum up the feelings a writer has when he is trying to gain recognition but is met with cold, undeserved criticism from ignorant self-appointed critics.
This is an article about Nigeria's government and politics concerning its various tribes. The language is good and merit's just two comments:
nigeria's president and bombing
>> Nigerian
he will fail woefully even in the Niger delta region, in the forth coming elections.
>>forthcoming
It would have been better if the article started with a brief introductory statement about the country and its tribes and the political system. When talking about the next elections, it would be appropriate to mention when they are due.
This is a perfect and beautiful ghazal. I congratulate you for writing so well your very first ghazal. Results for this round will be announced shortly.
This seems to be a wonderful small group performing quietly. I was the recipient of a 1,20,000 GP donation for my three contests, courtesy EarlyHours-A Vigilante Ranger.
I will strive to maintain the quality of these contests. Your GP will spur me to work hard toward that goal.
This is a beautiful poem. I specially like the ending:
My own two step with death awaits me
If ever you are watching me
You certainly can know that you still live in my life
A wonderful man and a son to a proud father
Enjoy the heavens
You deserve it
Remember something for me son
You're my hero now
This is a beautiful poem. I have never come across such simile about the moon--
The moon waits in daylight,
a silver ghost begging for darkness
A lunar mirror of borrowed brilliance,
and temporary light
Always waiting for her moment
to shine without another's strength
Always only half alive, half herself
and half of something else.
It is a good poem. There is plenty of imagery and symbolism. There are no mistakes that I could discern.
The opening is strong--
My memories are the visions of the Dead:
the bomb mushrooming on the horizon;
the whistling bullet that sears the flesh;
the dark flower that blooms in reverse.
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