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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/reviews/norbanus
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2,686 Public Reviews Given
Public Reviews
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1
1
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
While pondering the world of ants and bees,
A pain upon my ankle drives me wild.
A vivid picture of what fire-ants wrought,
shows swelling where my skin has been defiled

A shot of epinephrine saves the day.
I've learned the range of ants is too far flung.
The poison in that bite has ruined my day
and placed my foot upon hell's bottom rung.

I sprayed and prayed I'd cured the ant infest
"No more!" I feebly squawked without regard
for if the treatment used would be the best.’
The fire-ants formed up ranks. 'You wanna bet?

The problem of the bees (a different kind)
But if I flunk that test too, I'll lose my mind.
2
2
Review of My Pal  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
The light comes on and in the spot
our sniffing friends deserve a lot.
A vivid picture, you have wrought.
A smile grows with just the thought.

The hound will put her life right on the line
and fight a howling bear in saving mine.
But if a human friend can make a buck
our lifetime friendship is sadly out of luck
3
3
Review of The third house  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (4.0)
Awaiting what I know is yet to come,
My scrambled thoughts allow me not a word.
I ponder the beginning (at least some)
and wonder what it is that I just heard.

On second read, I see what's white and black.
I check my head. Is it still on my shoulder?
I posit something dumb, creating slack,
as I have done since youth when I was bolder.

The story swings, and that is when I turn,
thinking someone else will bear it better.
Up steps the one of courage for the day.
My wife steps in and I step back to let her.

Without a thought intact, I trudge the snow,
my brain aspin with what I do not know.
4
4
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
Sleep-drugged and dull, I watched this verse expand,
The slow propelling of my mental bug.
Forever grinding as I take the stand,
on feeling words deliver such a slug.

I rise, my muse still suffering an ache
(but knowing poems can relieve my strife).
The final words come close, prepared to take
the last step to ideal eternal life.
5
5
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (4.0)
You have a terrific opener and conclusion. The dialog is where you really shine! In fact, I believe it's your writing forte.

To be honest, and this has nothing to do with your writing talent, the first thing I did when I opened your chapter was wince, in shock. I ask that you do something about the formatting. No line breaks make it nearly impossible to keep one's place. That is particularly important with paragraph breaks around the dialog. Making the story easy to read is an important issue; leaving it the way it is will most assuredly cost you readers.

But, back to the story. Your plotting skills are developing very well. This could be on its way to an interesting series.

All the best,

Norbanus



6
6
Review of Carousel to Hell  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
When desperation does not know its fate
it's dragged behind and taken for a ride
You fold the consequences on the slate
with logic and decision on your side

The changing meter might cost you a prize
the storyline should gain what you deserve.
There is a flow of puzzle to devise
a way to counter all that we observe.

The old nag didn't make it up the hill.
Calliope fell short and that's the thing,
to give your readers something more to thrill
by questioning if fate has made it sing.

Not a single major blunder did I see.
It is, as far as I see, error-free.
7
7
Review of Scorpio  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
Appearing, as if something on the wing
the words steer me as if by vectoring.
Exploring thoughts like nothing more to do.
Could what's to come be foul, or plain taboo?

Somewhere midst jumbled notions led astray
I feel uncharted winds carouse and play
as logic takes a wild and flailing leap.
But, there's no guideline here for me to keep.

I search for unnamed answers turned to fear,
and find them here and when and also there.
The questions pique the interest of the flock
illusive as that other missing sock

You've stirred my wayward wonder of what's next
but left my searching muse completely vexed.
8
8
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
I like your approach to telling this horrid tale. You set the stage clearly and maintained the regional of the how and the why. We not only see the children at work, but we also feel their beaten-down personage and hear the ping on their hammers.

Well done,

Norbanus
9
9
Review of My Poetry  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
A poet's long obsession with the word,
can turn a moment's madness to a flood.
No rhyme nor meter we ever heard,
will fill a gut, or staunch the flow of blood.

The 'starving artist' seems a noble breed
and battles life to build an iron will.
A poet (like the rest of us) must feed,
or his pen (like the rest of him) will still.

But where we have a wordsmith with resolve,
who won't give up their day job on a whim.
If we write verses till the problem's solved,
and learn to live with budgets that are trim.

Someone, somewhen may read the words we say
and we might live to write another day.
10
10
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
You opened with enchantment in the air
then let the cat sneak slowly from the bag.
The lovers' fate leaves nothing much to fare;
Their passions soar and confidences drag

Then from the light within the middle lines,
we look inside and find unbridled hope.
There is no place inside to cut and run.
No moment’s pause to stop or shed a tear.

The lovers join forever in a flash
of sweet and sour dust in which they're caught.
It's then we see the sudden wild crash
which now consumes them in the joy it's wrought.

Your observation in the final line,
needs no beguiling magic to define.
11
11
Review of Love's Melody!  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | N/A (Review only item.)
Line one: The perfect metaphor for love
Delightful, how you've shown us where you stand
a word or two to heaven up above,
starts us along a path to something grand

Line two: The music swells to full renown.
We see our way, but let's not jump the gun
we'll wait and see the climax or meltdown

Linee three: The cymbals drown the shouts of cheer.
But love's bewitching tune is all we hear.
12
12
Review by Norbanus
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
For truth, we search both site and soul
for just a flicker hidden 'neath a shrug
And, all this knowledge just ramps up the role,
bestowed on us by lifelong holes we’ve dug.

When clinging to God's truth, we cannot fail,
as all is self-correcting, we have seen.
We see the Good Book's writing on the wall
and shout "The truth's right there. It's always been."

But there, with confidence so very deep
are those who know all things produce their gem,
as space-time germinates so they can reap
the joy of knowing all and topping them.

Perhaps God left the bang for us to find,
a thing to need more tossing in our mind.
13
13
Review by Norbanus
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
You open with a snicker, loud and clear,
to keep me reading on to find the why.
But on we go, with nothing much to cheer.
We see my boring self and start to sigh.

Then, from the shadows of the middle lines,
I look inside and find a point of cheer.
There’s no chance now, for me to cut and run.
My thrashing guilt delivers one last tear.

The crisis comes but no conflicted play,
where doubts build to the ups and downs we know,
Will chilling blood come through and save the day
before it's time to smoothly end the show.

The turn delivered in the final line,
is one that needs no magic to define.
14
14
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
When tossing stones sometimes too fast
We lose the fact our house is glass.
A useless word of something past
when golden silence makes the pass.

Our minds flip 'round, and then we fall.
A path of gossip as before
I glance away toward the wall
preserves a buck, just like before.

In truth, I helped someone last week
Leaped forth to catch a fallen purse
but there the owner, looking weak,
held out his hand and I felt worse.

A little overblown, but here I find,
a need for further tossing in my mind.
15
15
Review of Royalty  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Chapter one prepare us for a tale
that opens up imagination wild.
Foreshadowed is a deed that's doomed to fail.
The booze-fueled, addled brain has been defiled.

The artistry of stepping through those doors
while planting seeds for the expected blow.
As always, grief befalls those rotting boors.
and as things fall apart, the troubles grow.

The segment ends. No conflicts put to rest.
The cop sends her along. What will she get?
Blue blood confirmed, but still, she does her best
Fate whispers in her ear 'You wanta bet?'

The yarn goes on creating something new
then leaves us on the edge—what's next to do?
16
16
Review of Lost Jax  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
The evening’s cold. We stoke the fire
and read aloud the story's soulful sounds.
Jax wanders on. No call for Ire.
He's carried on the trail where love abounds.

The forest warms his sense of right.
While thoughts of peace expand as time/life stills,
Stay on the path for your delight
and watch as nature's song sends forth its thrills.

We reach the end. The purist page
and touch the face of peace when music ends,
I’m left askew upon the stage
the story building still as thought appends.

Delightful story ends. We're never told
just shown the forest path and we are sold.
17
17
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)

It happens in these tales relayed in verse
that one reveals endurance fully wild.
The picture painted could be hardly worse
than turning life into a broken child.

No tenderness to get in terror's way,
he must live through the worst while he's too young.
The verse shows us how harshness ruined the day
and placed his foot upon hell's bottom rung.

Without the least regard, Dad flunked the test
with treatment dealt far worse than to a pet.
As message sender, this verse does it best.
Things could be worse. Oh yeah? 'You wanna bet?'

A lifetime is too short, or so it's said
to fly away from some things which you dread
18
18
Review of Royalty  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)

Chapter one prepare us for a tale
that opens up imagination wild.
Foreshadowed is a deed that's doomed to fail.
The booze-fueled, addled brain has been defiled.

The artistry of stepping through those doors
while planting seeds for the expected blow.
As always, grief befalls those rotting bores
and as things fall apart, the troubles grow.

The segment ends. No conflicts put to rest.
The cop sends her along. What will she get?
Blue blood confirmed, but still, she does her best
Fate whispers in her ear 'You wanta bet?'

The yarn goes on creating something new
then leaves us on the edge—what's next to do?
19
19
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
Consumed by times gone by, that’s quite a thought.
This verse reveals a current notion wild.
A vivid picture of what youth's time brought
gross, gory and defined, but not defiled

With tenderness not getting in the way,
and unaware, at all, he was too young.
The horrors of those days could ruin one’s day
And plant one's foot upon hell's bottom rung.

Without the least regard, he flunks the test.
'What for are yellowed letters, but regret.
'It's time to clear the stage and chuck the rest.’
What is fate’s final word? 'You wanna bet?

The yellowed letter flaunts another kind
of haunting, which will never leave the mind
20
20
Review of Snowbird  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
The metaphors like 'snowfields and clipped wings'
demand that I sit back and take my time.
The moments pass. I ponder many things.
Then read the verse again, within the hour.

Goodbye…No time to squander on loves lost.
Although such words can prove confusing when
a poet's long-sequestered zeal is tossed
but salvaged by a bright, well-guided pen.

The three lines fill the bill-- no words withheld,
she knows he does not feels the same way, too.
We sat and waited, as the silence swelled,
then shrank beneath the tone of her adieu.

She never said good-bye—she sat alone
His answer like a droning dial-tone.

21
21
Review of lovely intentions  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
Two days aboard the site, this writer's goal,
to grab us by the soul and give a tug
has shown a new perspective to the role,
of shining light into the holes we’ve dug.

But buried ‘mongst the tidbits where they fall,
are truths we know, we’ve often seen before.
They shine there, just like beacons on the wall,
as artifacts that we are searching for.

Is that the goal, or am I in too deep?
I leap forth and I grasp that moment’s gem,
left there by you, as something I can reap
to know the joy in finding one of them.

Perhaps the words that floated from your mind,
contain another someone else can find
22
22
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
Thank you. For a very well turned caution's tale and for giving another look at Flander's Field from the vantage point of a hundred years and with the knowledge that there really was no peace, only a temporary pause to start up again twenty years late.

Nicely done,

Norbanus



23
23
Review of Where Did I Go?  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
'Twould take at least a thousand words of prose,
to send us down this short but furrowed path.
Each stanza clears the view of smoke for those,
who hold in check the doubter usual wrath.

Examples flourish of the ways to write
for meaning and to draw from what's gone past,
without engaging in the flashback fight,
or cluttering with stuff that just won’t last.

In truth, this story/poem takes us deep,
and leaps forth here to fill the story’s need.
Each step upon the gauntlet lets the reap
a clue of where the final scene will lead.

Thank you for this sample you've defined.
It shows me how to look and what to find.
24
24
Review of The Bracelet  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: 13+ | (4.0)
YOu've done an excellent job of putting this powerful story into words. The phrasing suggests to me that the original text may have been written in a language other than English. However, the story still comes through very well.

The well done, story needs a bit of edit for the language of the expected audience but otherwise, it's a super story.
25
25
Review of Ripples  
Review by Norbanus
Rated: E | (5.0)
The metaphors like ''ripples on the sea"
prompt us to sit, and sip a whiskey sour.
Attention drifts to feeling "What of me",
then read the verse again, within the hour.

At peace…No time to squander on lost nerve.
Although such words can prove confusing when
a poet's long-sequestered muse can't serve
but rises with a bright, well-guided pen.

And now, we see spilt milk—the words withheld
until we know he feels the same way, too.
The reader sits and waits. The silence swelled,
then shrank beneath the weight of the adieu.


we never said good-bye—we sat alone.
The reverb like a droning dial-tone.
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