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Retired. Never an obligation 3,777 times…minus two or three thousand more (when a zealous-whatever programming made me) before MY lobby saved the rest, thanks to response with consideration and generous reply to put up with me.
 
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Review of Harukaze  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.0)
I'm trying to get a sense of the emotions and imagery within nature in your haiku. There is a lot of visual chemistry at work with pink blossoms about to bloom in swaying breeze before you invoke the wind chimes. It was something I could feel, realize but the connection in the lines didn't seem to fit for this form.

The wind chimes seemed to separate, although, accentuate, the story of what I see as roses about to bloom. It's about arrival, and perhaps, the chimes like bells invoke that.
Nicely written in short form with good showing in 17 syllables.

Brian


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
That pretty well encapsulates what trick or treating at Halloween seems to be about nowadays. It's a tradition to do these things, but your poem reminds me we forget why we do it. Sends me to google why do they say trick or treat, when trick is not really associated anymore. Yet, there is some trickery going on that I hear about. People stilll try to scare people with their outlandish disguises, or outdo others with their decorations.

You have really reminded me what this season has been about.

Good job,

Brian


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Review of Triolet to Frost  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
Nice triolet. Never dabbled In that form...I too was inspired by Frost's poem...


Leaf-shadowed crossroads
brightening
the longer I pause
indecisive
nearing an even tide
sun setting
knowing
I'm prompted to choose
when to push forward
gentle
into that good night

It won't matter
what road I ttavel.

With a nod to Dylan Thomas. Looking my forward to reading more of your poetry.

Brian

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Review of Spring?  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
Now this is a haiku that I would have never imagined, using alliteration for every word. It does not seem to distract or seem forced. I especially enjoyed the second line because of the visual and audio quality of the words describing what I imagine as bright green saplings.

A pleasure to consume,

Brian


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Review of Fighter  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
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This was an uplifting poem that was crafted with such tenderness and care. It must have been a joyous outcome to have that child fight and survive as a micro preemie infant.

The first four lines of this writing were inspired and offered with such visual imagery connected with emotions that invoked the anxiety and concern that you and others must have been going through during that difficult time.

It was so well rhymed with a good flow from its even keel set by meter from the outset. It's uplifting to read something like this, because we all need a win now and again to give life a little balance. It's a shame when that balance shifts too much and there is not enough support to get through.

I wish God had just one more miracle just for you,

Brian

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Review of Dear Me~  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Dear Lovely, Tragic Flower Jen

Had I Known

The down days
There was always
next year and dreams
Put on hold, because
The down days --
Those set backs
That held you back
A young visionary that sought
Stars...there in your eyes
All along.
You did not see them there?

Dear tragic beauty
You tumbled too hard
When life tripped you up.
If I could have smoothed
The chiffon of your flowing
White gown, taken your
Velvet-soft hand, given to mine,
Waltzed you into the evergreen,
Forget melancholy,
Heighten Rhapsody
To a crescendo everlasting,
Echo soft, sweet reminders
To your frail soul...
Seek your dreams,
Seek your goals
Without looking back.
My eyes could not find you
Had I known sweet Jen
Had I known...

It's troubling to know we are helpless beyond words to encourage writers who struggle, doubt and/or lose faith. Perhaps, not committed to the long, slow torture of ascending the ladder to better appreciation of the craft? Perhaps, needing to fill that void in one's life never satiated? I can relate, or am I projecting? This is what I saw/realized when I read your 'Dear Me' letter.

Dear Jen, I struggle(d), too. You were trying to lay out a game plan, trying not to overwhelm yourself. I wish we could have replaced those shoulds with coulds, remove anxiety of failure. You may have judged yourself too harshly. You knew that self-love was a difficult concept to grasp.

I don't know what became of you, but knowing you're not here now makes me look about and wonder...is there another writer out there right now also coping in the same way who could use a guiding hand?

You are no doubt missed,

Brian

{image:1940845


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with The WDC Angel Army  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
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My first wonderment was if this woman bore your child, you have a right as a father to be a part of his life. I cannot assume this is fiction. And yes, we make mistakes when we are young. In this case, the woman made her mind up to be with another and raise the child without this 'first love.'

It's tragic, because we don't realize the truth from these events. When a man is young and uncertain and the woman chooses security over love, he's left out. Yet, so many love ballads like 'Danny's Song' intone "even though we ain't got money/I'm so in love with you honey," implying they are going to make it on love, live a simple life.

So, yes, sad when I read that this tragic mistake cannot be undone. Years pass, there's regret, no chance at being a family like that of the Kenny Loggins song.

Seems you have written several odes...maybe to the same girl...in later years, filled with doubt and regret. Hope you found a way to move on and make peace with it.

Brian

'Twas a pleasure to rest here in your port
See how a writer you once did comport
If only there were more years to envision
Hopes, dreams, a more fruitful composition
But, rest ye in your stars knowing
Here on earth your words are still glowing

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Review of Samantha  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
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Dear departed friend,

You know, the one that got away is my forte. A lifetime can be spent pondering why it was not meant to be, even while we are happily coupled and settled in our life. The 'what if' has a strong pull over those who would like a 'sliding doors' scenario and show us what our life would be like had we chosen another path.

But, what I get from your poem is a sense of emptiness, dissatisfaction. There is a need to be filled with something once known and true. But, we do not account for time and how our seperated journeys took us so far away from the people we used to be; we long to get back, but there is nothing waiting there but the same heartbreak and failed memory.

I was reminded once that I may have been putting someone on a pedestal that they were not fit to ascend. I misremembered or placed too much importance of their role in my life. But, that's what we poets do -- intensify, magnify the small things until we are fully consumed by our fictionalized visions of reality. Or, it's just me. We altruisticly resurrect this fairytale to save us from emptiness and misery. Think real hard and it might not have been all peaches and cream...it certainly wasn't predestined.

Just some of my thoughts on reading you memory, nostalgia-inducing poem.

Brian

'Twas a pleasure to rest here in your port
See how a writer you once did comport
If only there were more years to envision
Hopes, dreams, a more fruitful composition
But, rest ye in your stars knowing
Here on earth your words are still glowing

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Review of Old Buddy  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
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It's unfortunate the things we come to love (like our pets) must go before us. But, now that you have passed on from this world, it reminds that this is teaching us to accept this flaw about our existence...that it will end.

And, an animal like Bandit knows unconditional love. Our pets teach us, even in their last days, how mortal we are. But, also, that we can still love and endear ourselves to those we care about and to the things that matter most to us. A dog that can give unconditional love, even while ailing, teaches us we should never stop shining and giving until our last.

Very heartfelt eulogy for a wonderful pet,

B

'Twas a pleasure to rest here in your port
See how a writer you once did comport
If only there were more years to envision
Hopes, dreams, a more fruitful composition
But, rest ye in your stars knowing
Here on earth your words are still glowing

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Review of "Red Rose"  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.0)
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A beautiful and thoroughly endearing tribute to one's destined love, using a rose to symbolize beauty. I also wondered if the metaphor was less about descriptiveness and more about name. Her freckles being a predominated feature upon her face does not give me images of the flower. Perhaps, she was a tiger lily or some other freckled bloom. Another poem for another day wherever ye reside now.

Brian

'Twas a pleasure to rest here in your port
See how a writer you once did comport
If only there were more years to envision
Hopes, dreams, a more fruitful composition
But, rest ye in your stars knowing
Here on earth your words are still glowing

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Review of Melting Love  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
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Oh, that we could make true love return, when we are old and reminisce of youth, truth and beauty lost to the years. Your poem is full of symbolic, wishful imagery with so much more potential to shine brighter. So, I toyed with this poem...not an easy thing to do when trying to preserve a poet's vision. Forgive me for trying, as I was inspired to illuminate your words for others to see...

Melting Love

Wick too short
Liquid drowned our flame
I sit here tonight
Relight the candle again.

The love we pledged
By this candles light,
Slowly melted away.

Been light years since
We gazed upon our star,
Near, but how very far.
Wonder where it is today.

When we pledged our love,
A bright candle glowed
As bright as our star.

Hints of lavender, nay
Sandalwood tease memory,
Desire. How to describe
A love secretly burning for you.

A mere flicker remains,
Slowly dies -- ignites
A spark to blaze, renew,
Illume visions of me with you.

Snub the wick.
A puddle remains.
Save the yearning
For another bright day.


BY: BKC, A TRIBUTE TO KINGS

'Twas a pleasure to rest here in your port
See how a writer you once did comport
If only there were more years to envision
Hopes, dreams, a more fruitful composition
But, rest ye in your stars knowing
Here on earth your words are still glowing

Brian

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Review of leaves  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Remember how you had me read your stuff and I would give you edit points and you never changed a thing, but wrote something else to send to me and the whole cyclical process went on? Was that fun? Since there's no chance of this being edited, let me show you how I can morph your marvelous words,


Stoic trees hover
         Shudder, shed numerous colors
Their leaves slowly slide
                   Down to the ground
Haphazard shuffling

We embrace in silent awe
In our quaint New England town
Radiant glow on temperate fleece
         Belies the truth
Winter is on it's way.

Squirrels kangaroo about court
Paw and gather food to stash
Hid in puffed, gray cheeks
Then, scamper off.

Aroma of aged oak wafting
         Hidden plumes revealed
Endear weary eyes of sights
And smells we hold dear
Until another year,

My dear departed friend, May your words and memories here live on for all to appreciate.

Brian

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Review of I Give Thanks  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Dear Lynda,

Your poem reminds me of my shortcomings since youth. I was also taught to pray to be thankful, my mother a religious woman who cared deeply for the world and others. Her one soft spot, an ignorant man who had it bad growing up. She would try to teach him love and patience, but at the dinner table, every night, some story of how he had been wronged.

As a child, it had an affect in me; he was mean and abusive and I wanted, begged her even, divorce and leave the man. She would not. Made a commitment when they tied the knot. We got the worse, not the better of the marriage vow.

As I have gone through life, I have struggled with that part of him inside of me. It brainwashed me. I was put on a position to win his approval, which I never got. Though, he was the authority figure to blame, I focused on the world around me, forgetting the little prayer I was taught.

It took marrying a good woman with many of years tuteledge to redirect me. I just needed to go back to my roots and appreciate the woman who raised me and the importance of thankfulness as your little poem reminds me here.

It was a privilege to know you and revisit your words, to continue attuning my rediscovered perspective from my little vantage point of the world.

Brian

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Review of Always  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Dear Lynda,

Sometimes, simplicity is best. When we boil down our thoughts and actions to express something beautiful inside of us, it never gets more impactful than 'I love you.' And your poem reminds that our love of the One who created all life and who loves us despite our flaws is waiting with arms wide open.

It is so hard to find encouraging love on earth. It's no wonder some are ready to meet their maker. When you have faith, you have peace. You can feel the tranquility. And yet, while we struggle on earth, we surround ourselves with doubters and haters. It inspires a never ending feeling of hopelessness. We are trying to prove ourselves to mortals who have no right to judge.

Your poem reminds to put faith in a higher power, the one who knows your true, true heart. The one who has angels watch over you when you are low to be sure you are lifted up again. He sends all his love, while the world we live in does not know forgiveness, true empathy, or how to hold a troubled soul that seems so flawed and ugly.

Your words are inspiration to those who are sightless but long to earn an everlasting felicity like that which was forged for you in Heaven. I cannot shed a tear for your loss, but feel pride and happiness in knowing you have ascended where you belong.

Your devotee,

Brian

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Review of Can You See Me?  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
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Dearest Lynda,

Your poem reminds me how it feels to need someone at a moment in time when they are not available and the anxiety it creates to wonder if we have been forgotten.

Too many times I became reliant on the support of others because I was not emotionally prepared for the lulls. I'm reminded of the many past members who were active, posted great stuff, but the focus moved on...to newbies! They became silent and departed, like a dog no longer a pup, chained in the back yard, hoping no one will forget their supper.

It reminds me of self-actualization, of time waits for no man. Don't get stuck on that island, don't become dependent on the love of one, love yourself!

Inner strength is true beauty. We all deserve it. We forget we have it. Contain it, maximize it. You are a slave to no one.

Pep talk for people reading this review...very few.

You get it,

Brian


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Review of Just a Poem  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
See what you do to me...

Nowhere in sight, time --
Even now, pausing once, halting,
At least, for us mortals not,
                    for no man.
Time it moves ever onward only.

It's what little time you have that never ceases.
Don't waste, it is, you'll have
                   that is -- not the
End you'll get, of time
And what little friend or foe.


Just saying not.


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.0)
There is a beautifully depicted moment shared in your story poem that shares revelations that caused one to wonder about life and how the order of things is orchestrated by something unknowing, believing in God to understand its reasons.

We can't truly know how animals get their innate instincts...something we're not really born with. This gives reason to pause when spying on these birds in flight/formation and to feel they know your presence gives you a connection. It's like they have allowed you into their secret society to observe. Oh, that we could get close like Jane Goodall with her "Gorillas in the Mist." Fondness for being near God's creations feels like being connected through higher understanding.

To the poem's structure: Wasn't sure about the line breaks. Some parts have need for grammar and punctuation improvement. But, as poetry, it is keenly insightful, sensitive to truth and beautiful, full of awe and appreciation. Big thumbs up for that!

Brian


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
I like what you do with this poem about the pronunciation of Aspergers, by using a poetic device known as alliteration. Ultimately, this reads like making fun of those who mispronounce (intentially) the word, childishly. In fact, this poem might go over the head of those not realizing the abundance of P-words to push the agenda of respect for this condition.
Nice use of questions, pondering like a poet, addressing an audience. And you didn't push it too far, as all of the meandering thoughts cohesively conjoined with the theme. Intoning open of theme by repeating last line for punctuation was priceless!
You deserve a pat on the back,

Brian


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Review of Church  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
I've been revisiting the haiku form recently and wanted to give comment to this piece.

I found this to be humorous, not something I would typically expect for haiku. But, it worked. I cannot imagine a denomination, but reminds me of Catholic. The line to complete 'prayers sent like mail' makes me think of our modern era of internet. Maybe, more could have been done in set up for this zinger.

Still enjoyed,

Brian


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Review of Home  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.0)
I've been revisiting the haiku form recently when I came across this offering. It meets the 5-7-5 syllable count for structure, but I wondered about the theme.

I got a feel for spring, sensed the return of rushing water. Wasn't sure how the hawk factored. I wonder if I miss a connection to nature's movement and that of a hungry bird seeking prey. All well written images in short form.

Still a good, visual piece,
Brian


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Review of A truth  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.0)
A poem with statement that holds true in our current socio-political life. Your poem reminds how vexing it is see 'the course of civilization' and feeling hopeless to do anything about it..."all we can do is watch." That's what it would seem. Activism is a lost ideal that is now resurfacing again. Our current leader (possibly unwittingly) is inspiring it.

Hard to know what fate holds for us, so we keep setting pen to paper, hoping to change the world a little at a time.

I'll bet you could expand on this theme, give examples and bring social issues to light in poem.

B


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Review of Lonely People  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: 13+ | (4.5)
This was a unique take on the Beatles song, taking it forward. I would wonder about the Eleanor Rigbys of the world, but with social media they wouldn't have to feel alone. However, Eleanor here isn't given much hope, because she is witnessing what smart technology is doing to the world around us. We're all alone, not actually interacting.

I guess Father McKenzie is just happy to have people in church even if they aren't making a personal connection to God...depicted in your poem. But, He is the creator of all things, so sorry Al Gore, once again you do not get credit for creating the internet, a place where God can reach people.

It was a pleasure to read,

Brian


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.5)
This poem reminds me of how my parents reacted when I wanted to be my own man, didn't want parental interference in my life anymore. It's sad when sons or daughters go off and don't keep in touch. As a parent now, I worry my kids won't need me, that I won't have assurances that there life will be safeguarded. Hard to let go.

My own experience as a young man were their concerns I might be 'laying in a ditch somewhere,' which to me was an expression for I couldn't take care of myself. I was pretty certain their protests were unwarranted and intrusive. I rejected their concerns carelessly, didn't appreciate the offers of concern. Your poem reminds me of all this.

Brian


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Dear Joy,

"See beauty; create beauty" I'm going to use that mantra.

I really looked forward to reading this and it did not disappoint. It gave me some time to assess my approach to writing poetry. Your article inspired thoughts about the poetic process and how to encourage poets who get stuck like this.

While I was reading, I was scanning. I was hoping for a reference to John Keats and his notions about Negative Capability. You likely know, it was a process that gave him pause to wonder about the world around him. His odes on things like Grecian urns were full of surprise for one inanimate object. We can be inspired by anything: art, what you know, anything outside or inside your window can suffice.

True poet's don't lie. They wonder about things -- write about their wonderment, maybe naively, adoring. We can be certain about some things, but write to try to fill in the blanks for the rest.

Poet's like me can be confused by life, the order of things, things unrevealed and how we can get at the truth -- reveal it for others to see. Some things we are not meant to know. Being spurned by life can create passion in our words. We poets rise to the challenge, passionately pleading our case for life in an otherwise oft lonely, ordinary world. But, then we look at something uniquely. We employ the poetic devices, and...voila! You have it -- poetry.

As a reviewer, I like to see unfinished work with potential. I see writers grasping but not quite taking hold. I marvel how others see the world. Through their eyes, I imagine and suggest an end to their scheme of things -- all the while, not tramping over their vision. I comment to aid their sight.

So, what you present here is great fodder for a lonely, self-obsessed poet like myself. I aim to get a greater feel for the world we share.

You offered some great and inspiring examples for poets -- speak in a language that all can understand. While negative capability seems a simple concept to me, scholars interpretation of philosophical differences between Keats and Samuel Colerage make it appear complex:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Negative_capabilit...

Thanks for inspiring me to revisit poetic concepts and approach. I try not to limit my view, for fear of appearing ignorant, which I am...the whole point! Now, I've been illuminated -- unfortunately, briefly, because we all forget and have to retune. I say two steps forward, one step back. Though, I delude myself about what I'm walking toward.

Brian
*StarBl*



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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with Circumpolar Black Light Reviewer  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)

Dear Jane,

I saw another reviewer give you feedback on this poem (which I had read once before) and noticed the same confusion over the use of 'Min-a-mins.' I decided to learn what they are and it revealed a whole new poem to me with some great flavor!

I try not to get discouraged when someone decides to be confused by my words, rather than explore a little further. Google is a great tool to unlocking meaning in words. It was fun reading and learning about this Australian plant.

When I read your poem, it was visually appealing, imagining that baby bird beneath the Min-a-mins for shelter. I now think, you could do more to explore this setting, assuming Australian. That's if you are still working with this poem.

It's short and sweet in nature, but if you gave some hints in your poem about the type of bird? Sometimes, birds shelter or habitate in specific locales. Just looking for more from that ending. The bird was described nestled neath the Min-a-mins, but couldn't visualize the bird to realize the ending.

What I liked were those first four lines. I imagine rocking a babe to sleep in my arms and sweetly whispering a story about a baby bird the child can appreciate, relate. It's just the beginning of the bird's saga. Even if just to spread wing and take its first flight. When my kids had me make up stories, it was a challenge at the start. The more I did it, the easier it became. Takes a little encouragement inspiration to get the task done, sometimes.

It's dreamy and nicely told. I love the idea of crafting this as a children's poem to be illustrated and read to children, because the plant alone creates a unique setting. The storytelling aspect is what can make this a strong write.

I wish I could give encouragement to more writers like you. This community needs more writing with potential like this.

Brian
CIRCUMPOLAR *StarBl*

Reviewers: It's work, but it's rewarding to Google something you don't understand:

Min-a-min

https://www.somemagneticislandplants.com.au/index....


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