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48 Public Reviews Given
83 Total Reviews Given
Public Reviews
1
1
Review of Anger  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hello Wild and Restless Rose!

Your words here are very wise. I feel as you do; we are often too rash with our careless words and our careless actions. We get swept away by insignificant incidents and let anger ruin our day or grudges fester against friends and family. It is also true; people often look away and expect somebody else to clean up a mess or pick up something that someone might trip over, or turn off a drippy faucet. These little things seem such a big burden for some people—it’s incredible for instance, how a married couple could fight over a forgotten sock on the floor or a mug left haplessly by the sink.

There are little incidences that people should not dwell on in anger, but on the other hand, I think that on a larger scare, anger is sometimes necessary for change. Anger against inequality for instanc4e made America a better nation. I think anger has it’s rightful place in life—as long as of course we are not ruled by it. Any emotion is a beautiful part of the world and part of life s long as it does not replace reason on life’s driver’s seat.

As for what makes me angry; well I would say people that gossip really grinds on my patience. Instead of helping someone in a bad situation they gossip, gossip, gossip, gossip, gossip—it absolutely drives me insane the things that come out of people’s mouth about other people’s business. Gossips are like parasites that feed on people’s happiness and people’s troubles.

Well, now, I apologize for making this too long. I do not have any major suggestions on the content of your writing, but I did find a few mechanical errors.

-Check this sentence on the second paragraph:
There is the anger you feel when as a pedestrian on the pedestrian crossing, a car wizzes past.
-“wizzes” should be spelled “whizzes”

-Check this other sentence also on the second paragraph:
Why couldn't that creep stop.
-there should be a question mark instead of a period after the word “stop”

-Check the third paragraph:
Or what about the time, this time as a driver, a car doesn't give you priority of the right and luckily you slowed down first..my mind boggles thinking of what could have been..
-I would start it this way: “Or what about, this time as a driver…” I think it would be cleaerer if you did not use “time” twice.
-I also think you should put a line instead of two periods between the words “first” and “my” so that there would be more of an impact.
-So the paragraph would look something like this: “Or what about, this time as a driver, a car doesn’t give you the priority of right and luckily you slowed down first—my mind boggles thinking of what might have happened!”

-Check the last lines on your 5th paragraph:
So what..you see a little old lady trying to cross the street, someone else will stop, or someone else will help her.
-Try: “So what—you see…”
-Two period between words are just very awkward to read. You make that long line by typing in the first word and then pressing dash twice and thentyping in the second word and pressing space. If you’re in MS Word the two dashes should automatically change to that line. I would do this for the other points where you had two periods as well.

Well, that’s about it. I enjoyed reading this piece and thinking about your wise words. *Smile*

Thank you for sharing your writing,
G E L *Heart*
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2
Review of Mrs. Porter  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR | (3.5)
Hello Puzzled Poet,

This was very interesting. I did not read the subject “Two ghosts in a restless house by the sea,” right away and so I was puzzled by the ending at first. That was a really unique idea you came up with; putting two ghosts together where they don’t know they are both ghosts. You were very mysterious. I love the setting; the silver moon, the quiet night disturbed by the restless sea and the restless house.

I feel like you wrote out a scene of a short story because so many elements were left as a mystery. What happened seems like it happens every night between these two ghosts. Mrs. Porter seems like an interesting character. Not knowing what Mrs. Porter went through makes me think she’s just a crazy old ghost when she talks about the hungry children and the lonely boys. You made the other ghost, the narrator mysterious too.

I was especially captivated by your imagery. I can sense the night clearly and imagine that silver moon against the darkness. Great job! *Smile*

My one major suggestion:
I feel like you could have built up more suspense to Mrs. Porter’s breaking. Her breaking seemed a little subtle. Perhaps you can do this by adding more contrast to Mrs. Porter before and after her breaking. I know that she was calm, she thought she was just dreaming and she was muttering, but she already sounded off to begin with—I just feel like there was no finality, like she was just beginning to break but hasn’t broken yet. Anyway, this is just my honest impression, I hope only to be helpful to you.

I have also commented in bold on your story. These are just mechanical suggestions; just use what is helpful and forget about the rest.

I enjoyed this.
Keep writing,
G E L *Heart*



Mrs. Porter’s Breaking
By: Puzzled Poet

Mrs. Porter

She lives alone on her private archipelago. (I visit her every night.)

Still she sleeps. Quietly, quietly. Hush of wind draws back the curtain, revealing sleeping moon tucked in by shades. Its dreams lay in perfect square slices on the floor, silvery white. All else is dark.

“Why are all the girls so hungry,” she asks. (Place a ? instead of the , after “hungry.”) Breath like ice on a tropical night. (She can’t see me.) (She still knows I’m there.) I am her comfort these days. I float motionlessly toward her and settle just over her bed. Quietly, quietly. (Don’t want to wake her.) “Why are all the girls so hungry?”

Husband dead, family driven away. A rich, old woman—rotting away. Undoubtedly on the brink of madness. (No wonder she knows I’m here.)

“I don’t know, Mrs. Porter,” I breathe, sitting with my back toward her. Hush of skin draws back blanket, revealing sleeping crone tucked in by shades. Her dreams lay shattered on the floor—silvery white. “Maybe something in the water.
” (I think this was a typo, the ” should be next to “water.”)

“Why are all the boys so lonely,” she asks. Icy breath shifts in tempo and register—she’s not asleep anymore. (Again, put a ? instead of a , after “lonely.”) I
remain as I am; I continue to stare down the wall opposite her. Quietly, quietly. (Don’t want to break her.)

“I don’t know, Mrs. Porter,” I repeat.

“Why are all the boys so lonely?”

“Maybe it’s the cold, Mrs. Porter. The common cold.”

I feel the bed shift under me—feel. (Ha.) She’s sitting up now, head and shoulders resting on the wooden headboard. (I know her eyes are open.) I remain as I am. She seems to ponder my answer, then either accepts it or dismisses it. (I can’t tell.)

I feel her eyes on me. She can’t see me. (Still knows I’m there.) I rise, still facing away, and slide to the window. Quietly, quietly. Silver and black moonbeams echo off a restless sea.

I hear her throat catch. She wants to speak, but can’t. Bedsprings creak; she sits up. Flick, flick. The curtain flaps by an excited beat of wind. Bedsprings creak; she settles back to her headboard. Flick, flick.

Quietly, quietly! The tranquil room suddenly seems full of sound, piercing sound, scratching sound. Flick, flick! Shhh, begs the breeze. Another bedspring creaks as the old woman shifts. Tock, tock, tock, screams a grandfather clock, three rooms away. The whole house seems to pulse. Quietly! I implore. Quietly!

She’s right behind me. I cannot hide from her anymore. I pivot around, frightened. (What irony, an old woman scaring a—well.) She looks—into me, not past me. Crystal tears shiver down the rivulets on her face. Her green eyes are paling, fading. (She looks more the part than I do.) (So sad!)

Breaking in her eyes.

Breaking in our eyes.

Shaking, earthquake of sorrow. Quietly, quietly. (Don’t want to break her.)

“Why are all the girls so hungry,” she asks. (? Mark after “hungry.”)

“Why are all the boys so lonely,” she asks. (? Mark after “lonely.”)

“I don’t know, Mrs. Porter, I don’t know.”

I see her throat catch. She gasps but keeps control.

“Why can’t anybody see me,” she asks. (? Mark after “me.”)

Silver and black moonbeams echo off a restless me.

“I don’t know, Mrs. Porter. I don’t know.”
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Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+
J.Ro,

This made me smile. I love your wit and humor. I like the way you write.

Hehe, they do say “there’s someone for everyone.” *Smile* I say go dancing anyway… at least you’ll get a work out. :*Wink*

I enjoyed reading this.

Good luck with all that,
G E L *Heart*
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Review of - Words -  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hello Raja Xarrar,

What a warm, sweet, endearing poem. Reading this made me smile.

I have often attempted to write to someone I care for, of how I feel about them, or looked for a card that would have just the right words. It’s really amazing that as many words as there are, when the heart speaks love, the words just fall short. You showed this very well with this poem.

Just a few suggestions:

I sought amongst the card displays,
To check if I could explore,
Slight something that would convey,
Just what was in my mind's core.

-The second and the third lines shouldn’t have started with a capital letter, since you were not starting a new sentence. It should look something like this:

I sought among the card displays,
to check if I could explore,
slight something that would convey,
just what was in my mind’s core.

-Do this also for your other verses.

-Also for this line:

slight something that would convey,

-I think it might be clearer if you wrote:

a slight something that would convey,
-Check the last verse:
Fill the spaces between my fingers and hold my hand.
Learn speak a language my heart know,
Only then my feelings you may comprehend,
Since, with words I cannot show.
-For the second line, did you mean to write:
Learn to speak a language my heart know
-I think if you added the “to” it might be clearer, and I know this messes up your rhymes, but grammatically it should be “my heart knows”

These are just suggestions, just use whatever is helpful and forget about the rest.

I enjoyed reading this—
Thanks,
G E L *Heart*
5
5
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
L’Aigle Royal,

Interesting poll question; I’m wondering what made you think of this.

I chose: I’m a good writer, but I think I’m a bad writer.

However, I feel that this isn’t an accurate description of my feelings about my writing abilities; this is just the closest to the truth. Well, how can I describe myself? I know that sometimes I look at something I’ve written and feel satisfied with it, and other times I look at what came out and feel that it was below average scribble-scrabble. I know that I’m a better writer when what I’m writing about has come to me on its own accord. I wish that this would happen more often, but it never seems to when I have to write essays and research papers for school. I don’t think that I’m a terrible writer, but when I read other’s writing I get inspired to be more creative. I aspire to those I feel that express themselves or express thoughts clearer and with power. Though I know I can write, I know that there are others who can write better, and that hasn’t ever bothered me. I’m mostly just excited to learn as much as I can about writing and to push myself to write. I like the process of falling in love with meaningful writing, whether it be from my self or from another.

What a thought provoking poll! *Delight*
Thanks,
G E L *Heart*
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Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
Jncobbs,

This was so vivid. It pained me to read it and to know that what you wrote isn’t just another story. I know that while I sat here reading your words and while I’m writing this to you, all the things you wrote of happened, is happening, will continue to happen.

I know I can’t be the only one who feels sometimes bullets and war and death are distant, perhaps unreliable, but when I read this, you made me feel like I was in it. I felt his fear. I felt his desperation being just another man to shoot, somehow still wanting to cling to hope even through the throbbing and the bleeding. You pulled me out of my comfortable seat and threw me in this soldier’s thoughts. You wrote this well.

Correct this typo: “pured” should be “poured.”
I scream. My arm is burning, like alcohol pured into an open wound. I grab it, making it worse.

My only other suggestion is that you skip line between your paragraphs. I think this would make it neater, easier to read and his thoughts would flow smoother. Of course is up to you, this is just my impression.

Hope to read more from you soon.
Thank you for your writing,
G E L *Heart*

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Review of Love Stone  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
Conner,

I found your writing so compelling and so powerful in your poem “Love Stone.” This is the kind of poem that sticks to my heart. You used such a tragic tale to speak of and to define love so sincerely and profoundly; I was awed.

Everything in this poem flows smoothly and beautifully; everything fits together. Even the form you used, long lines instead of shorter lines that ends with rhymes, contributed to the feeling of the Hermit’s prolonged life without love. Each rhymed word served the content instead of the other way around. You conveyed the tragic tone, the quite mood, the still, cool, moonlit night, so strongly I could feel and picture everything. You did not tell the story, I felt like I was a silent observer in it.

You made love so powerful. The Hermit’s longing for love brought both life and death.

Love is stone that cannot be broken.

I found this line so thought provoking.

Here are just some suggestions with mechanics:

- And as he opened his mouth to let out a triumphet (Did you mean “triumphant” here?) roar, he felt his chest heave, and knew no more.

- Though each failure adds to the evermounting toll, he carves his next love straight from his soul.
- His stone love took him in her arms, and carried him to his quarry, the everquiet graveyard.
(Did you mean to write “ever mounting” and “ever quite” in these lines? I wasn’t sure if you put those words together on purpose or not. Usually these words would be written separately and I do not think that by separating them anything would be taken away from the poem. It’s up to you of course. *Smile*)

This poem was so deep and so meaningful to me.
I will be reading more from you, please keep writing.
Thank you so much,
G E L *Heart*
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Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ | (4.5)
Poppa Blues,

My friend and I were reading this together and we couldn’t help cracking up! *Delight* The affair you were talking about was so scandalous, but you wrote about it so humorously; this was great! Your last line was very suggestive that there would be more. *Wink*

My only suggestion is that you use punctuations.

Great job,
G E L *Heart*
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Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (4.5)
Hi Typingrhyms,

Great poem *Delight* I can definitely relate, especially this verse:

What, is it lunch time already?
There is so much work to do.
There’s a deadline this afternoon
How will I ever make it through.

It happened to me today and I was late for class. Hehe *Wink*

Hehe, you’ve diagnosed our online addiction very well, now can you give us a prescription or a treatment? Well written.

Keep writing,
G E L *Heart*
10
10
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (5.0)
C. R. Leverette,

I read your poem and was so moved that I read the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Your writing is spellbinding and captured the heart of the myth and the grief of Orpheus. The words you used flowed and reading the poem was like listening to music; the kind that makes the heart feel love. I felt the loss, the yearning for deep love with every line. This is so deep and so beautiful:

If these hands can pluck a tune
to woo Death and recover Life,
then sing through me, great Tune!

I especially loved the last lines:

Yes, I will remember you
but cannot forget your fate…

I may not be Orpheus, but I can definitely relate to his loss and I felt with these last lines you have expressed how I felt and how I feel about a person I loved that passed away.

I do not have any suggestions but that you should keep everything as is. *Delight*

I loved this so much, thank you.
Hope to read more from you soon,
G E L *Heart*
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Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (3.5)
Hi Nadene,

“The Snail and the Man with the Make-up” was an interesting short poem. I can appreciate your description of a “robotic, routine, nothing changes day.” “Coming out of the shell” is an expression our culture often uses; I think you did well showing that process with this poem. Just as that northward journey to your doorbell must be monumental to that snail, the man’s effort to change his routine must have been equally so.

The last line on the third verse:
“But that man is wearing make-up.”
This line was a little vague to me. On the one hand, it fits because it does have that effect “Wow something drastically changed the man in the course of his normally mundane work day!” On the other hand, I took it as being too random, it came out of the left feed and I don’t know what “Make-up” is supposed to be or what is it supposed to be saying. Was the man literally wearing make up? Was this figurative, a symbol for something else?

Also, check the last line of the first verse. Change “cosy” to “cozy.” {e:wink

This was good writing; hope to read more from you!
Thanks,
G E L {e:heart}


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Review of Rock I  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR | (4.0)
Hello!

This was a great poem. Allowing the rock to speak gave me a unique perspective to a certain culture or human nature in general. I liked the way you started out with the rock being used harmlessly and then with every verse the rock became more and more important to those people. You did well making this poem unique: I loved how every verse was in the form of a riddle with “A black basaltic rock I am” as every answer.

At the same time I could not help feeling that there was some sort of inconsistency with this poem. The first verse talked about the rock being a paperweight and that gave me the impression that when the rock said “you” it was referring to people in today’s world. It made me think of busy people going to and from work and there’s the rock as a paperweight on their desk. The second verse then took me from sleek offices to farming; the third from farming to jewelry and then the last two verses made jump back to the past when people were killed by stoning and when people bowed down to statues.

I really feel like your poem would have had more of an impact and more of a statement about people if each part was a little less random. Or else, maybe you could transition better or order the verses differently so that it not only flows when it’s being read, but the pictures that it is putting in the mind of those who are reading it will flow from one to another as well. IOr perhaps I just need a b etter sense of what you were referring to in this poem.

I’m just telling you my impressions here, this is just what I think, so just use what you can and never-mind whatever is not helpful to you. Thank you for this poem, I enjoyed it and it was thought provoking.

Be reading more from you,
G E L *Heart*
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Review of Joshua  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.5)
Hello Richard Briley,

This poem truly touched my heart. I don’t have my own children yet, but I a baby sit a lot regularly and I do cherish each and every moment that child sits on my lap and asks me to read again for the tenth time the same book, and on and on, there are so many unforgettable moments, and they bring so much joy in my life.

You wrote this very well; that joy and affection for your little grandson resonate through and through with every line.

I especially loved the last few lines:

I know one day he will be his own man,

With his own wife and kids, You know, the whole band,

One million kisses and hugs before then,

Until that day arrives we will read from beginning to the end.

This was truly beautiful.
Thank you for this, hope to read more from you soon!
G E L *Heart*

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Review of My Psalm  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Hello Ruwth,

This was a beautifully written Psalm. Your grateful heart and your love for God shines through with every line.

You give us everything . . . and we are grateful . . . and even our gratitude . . .

Comes from above . . .

Comes from your love.

I especially loved these last lines. My experience has proven the truth in these line.

I’m looking forward to reading more from you.

Thanks,
G E L *Heart*
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Review of Deer Meat  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
HAHAHAHA!!! *Bigsmile*

This was so much fun! I laughed my way through it starting with the sight of that black garbage bag when you opened the freezer.

You wrote it so humorously without loosing sincerity for those you care about.

I think you should indent your paragraphs.

Looking forward to reading more of your writing!

LOVED IT!!!
G E L *Heart*
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Review of Cupcake Stories  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (4.0)
Yeah, I had strange, strange, strange dreams and nightmare that stuck around more than dreams usually do, but really, your dream is SO weird and profound all at the same time. Mind boggling, but I’m so glad you wrote it down. Hhhmmm… wouldn’t that be a scary world to have color coded “types.” Sounds eerily utopian!

You wrote this well and conveyed a very powerful message about race. 

Looking forward to reading more of your writing!

Thanks!
G E L *Heart*
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Review of I THINK OF YOU  Open in new Window.
Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR | (4.5)
Hi

This is bitter-sweet beautiful. I can definite relate to the thoughts and the emotions you convey through this poem. I especially liked the second verse. I have experienced that feeling of surprise; when I’m preoccupied with one thing or another, then the thought of a person that ones was such a big part of my life casually wonders in. Then the memories flood in and I wonder, could we have had such a special bond and if we did how is it that our worlds have changed and grown apart so much now?

I appreciated this. Thanks. :D
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Review by G E L Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E | (3.5)
I think this poem flows. I like that it’s to the point because often, when we are face to face with that person we trust or love, wee are very directly saying to them “please be there for me.” We always hope that their response will be a “YES” because if we are asking that of them, we’re usually saying “I’ll be there for you.” Hhhmmm… I guess we’ll never know till they need to be there. Thanks for this, write on! :D
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