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.
I get a hang up on stats and what’s right. Blame baseball historians. Apparently, I can’t hear the societal norm above the NOISE IN MY HEAD! WHAT? Oh…you were saying?
This is a very nice collection of thoughts of the Mom who has to do everything, and Dad can't even remember all those things without having them written down.
And why doesn't he take pen to paper? Can't even take dictation.
Can imagine how my wife can get like this. Guys can take for granted how all those things seem to magically get done while they have their feet up on the couch.
As a parent, I can truly appreciate the emotions expressed to the little one you must let go of a little at a time, learning to trust them to grow up right.
Taking this from such a tiny thing in that delivery room to sharing those moments watching them grow really brings meaning to the experiences that will last a lifetime.
Liked the pet name, Lady Bug, too. Well expressed and so heartfelt that it touched me.
This is very nicely written with a deft use of meter to make for a very smooth read, much like the graceful deer.
But first I must say, I got a smile when I saw those ads linked to this page. This one was my favorite:
'Deer
Browse a huge selection now. Find
exactly what you want today.
Ads by Google'
Now back to the poem. The metaphor for the deer creates some nice visuals in the first two stanzas. But in the following stanzas you stray away from it and could not see a relation to the deer anymore.
Either way, the sentiment of the poem is something I am sure many can appreciate. You have a talent for crafting words. I think fleshing out that metaphorical relationship further could add so much more. Or even, break this into separate poems...One about the hunt for love with the deer metaphor...the other about the rewards of marriage.
You do create some mental images mixed with emotions that did make for a humorous moment. Did you intend to spell tires with a 'y'...wasn't sure if there could have been some significance there.
I would use quotes in the second and third lines and add a comma after 'He's back' to give greater dramatic effect.
It was a great honor to be recognized by this outstanding forum!
Being recognized a fellow writer and my peers gave me a special feeling and makes me want to go out and do something for others who need some inspiration.
I hope more preferred authors take advantage of this forum and boost the morale of those struggling to fit in and make themselves known.
Thank you Gabriella for such a great program. This has been truly rewarding!
I sort of get this contemplation in relation to the inability to understand how one's life can be as strange as this inexplainable weather.
You seem to describe three emotions...a bittersweet melancholy, happiness and depression with the types of weather mentioned.
I can see how the phenomena can be akin to the human spirit. If I take it a step further, I assume this is about how one perceives these things weather/emotion? The meteorologist/psychiatrist would probably not have to muse about this. But to the untrained eye, it causes wonder.
I know you call this nonsense, but sometimes the subconscious can make itself known. Hope I didn't overanalyze. But it was a fun challenge.
Stifled emotions aroused by a title prompt can make for some tricky wordsmithing.
The two words 'broken' and 'promise' together can emote and link some powerful metaphorical relationships to drive home the point about this scorn.
I would focus all the lines on defining the purpose of those two words...broken is the friendship from broken promises. Is there a trail of broken promises leading up to this? This relationship journey forcing the two to part ways?
I would remove the line about a broken promise to a child...it confuses the relationship between the narrator and the promise breaker and the extra space could be used for more expression of that broken feeling.
Breakable objects that hold something of value come to mind. Broken vase that holds flowers that were once given. Broken mirror that once held the images of two who shared a smile. Broken porcelain doll that was tossed by the angry child. Broken record because the reviewer wouldn't stop opining about BROKEN!
I'm in a humorous rut today! Ready to put up some serious verbage! I'm quoting Monsters, Inc. now. Clawing my way back to reality and....okay, I'm back.
This isn't due until mid-November, right? I would go back to the drawing board to make a list of things broken and then draw relationships to a broken promise and let the muses do the rest.
If you draw from a personal experience, visualize those memories if you can, and see what pops in your head. You might have some metaphors from that.
Am I any help here? I'm all over the place with my little hiatus from family life. Let me know if any of my rambling needs to be clarified.
If I could make an attempt to describe what this is about the struggle to maintain that vision that requires hope to make a dream come true. This person has cast the shadow that will not allow to be defined, giving just "glimpses (of) what can be."
This is the most telling line for me...
"...look at it straight on and poof! it changes shape or vanishes all together."
This someone who co-exists with the shadow cannot endure the harsh scrutinizing eye and choses to transform that shadow into non-existence, hiding their light, so to speak, under that proverbial bushel.
This whole piece is about the struggle to express oneself with this lingering thin form that doesn't take shape, that needs to become dimensional with color because it is trapping this person with its taunting non-existence.
"So desirable and yet so intangible. . .always just out of reach taunting and teasing with the promise of something so important."
It's a metaphor for hope, the shadow. Something that seems tangible, if only the mind can see that the shadow is an illusion. Because the thing that casts the shadow is what makes the shadow exist, ergo, the creator that can make the dreams come true. Heed not the shadow. Heed the matter that can cast such a notion that the illusive dream cannot become reality.
Man connecting with nature through the hummingbird has a beauty about it that speaks to the truth of our existence.
Their is an appeal with this poem that could use some tweaking to make the message resonate even more with the reader.
The opening didn't hook me right away and 'it makes me' didn't show enough action to inspire the start of a melancholy ode. I felt a similar feeling for the last line's 'will bring' when I need an active expression to sing that need for return.
You could also build on those feelings of this voice who yearns for spring like someone yearning for renewal, revival, return or youth.
The tone of the poem emoted those feelings well. Especially liked the use of 'brook' which seemed an original expression to give the reader more to chew on.
I also had a thought about the stanzas and introduction of the hummingbird -- flop the second and third stanzas and you might have a better read by getting the introduction in their a bit sooner before the reader loses interest trying to figure out what you allude to.
Overall, I enjoyed this work and hope that you'll find my comments useful.
This use of listing in this form is a great way to devise a poem.
My first thought after reading the ending was maybe it should sum up, 'These are the things that make my week,' or 'These are the things that make my days' or 'each of my days.'
Nice way to show how little moments in the relation to those days can be relished. 'Busy coffee' didn't show much and wondered if this is about the consumption, which might be more understandable as the beverage to get that work s week going on Monday.
I am finding several poems this evening on 'black' that have a rhythmic feel to the read. That open came hard and that second stanza sung with syllables with just the right pacing.
It was hard to match such an explosive start, as the following stanzas pale in comparison and yet hold up pretty well if not for that blinding open.
Yes, this was a surprise. Guess I should have seen that coming with the clues from the description. Nice ending.
You definitely set a nice pace with the read of this one. It is strongest in those first four stanzas before it breaks away with the long doctor's quote that doesn't really sound like how I doctor would speak and think paraphrasing would be a better way to go.
The only other thing that concerned me was 'pale tears.' They are ghosts but even with the living, cannot image this hue. It emotes a certain feeling. Dull might express the same thing without color.
Overall, I like your mechanics and delivery and think a stronger finish will make this worthy of 5 STARS.
After the first two stanzas, I was unaware of what to expect and caught off guard when I realized this was from the Bible with Jesus interceding to prevent a stoning.
I liked this perspective and such a great story telling feel. When I came upon this part, I was in awe of this moment before it even hit me what was happening...
"A man squatted near her,
writing in the dust,
just numbers, one through ten."
It put me right in the moment and I know he was calling for a 'Hail Mary' pass in the endzone!
Thanks for this fresh perspective to give new meaning to an old story.
My estimation of what is happening in this poem is the metaphorical windows as eyes, and the rain as tears. Perhaps, implying delusion or fake tears to hide what is really going on.
At first, I did not see where the description of 'red tears' comes into play with the only reference I could relate being 'scar.'
But with the line...."it seems you can keep secrets"....hauting me, it started to come together.
But with..."You have all that you wanted; such beauty, a perfect love"...how could this person not be happy. The tears are telling, but not about what is really happening.
"But what are these patterns that will scar"...perhaps is revealing what is being seen. The signs of abuse.
I could imagine this person being referenced by the narrator as hiding behind a mask...giving the implication that everything is fine...on the surface.
I have trouble with the tears metaphor, because emotion is being displayed. Unless the rain on windows means something else, it seems this person would hide behind shades, make-up, and show little emotion as possible.
It's still an effective piece, but don't know if readers will understand it clearly.
I have read, rated and reviewed every piece of poetry in this folder. I must say, tonight, I was pleasantly suprised and pleased with some of the works I came across...some which merited five stars including...
There was some poignancy to those pieces and a side of you that I seldom see in your writing that was refreshing. It was rewarding to peruse and review these works.
What is also interesting is the use of some form and some of which was written for contests, proving that prompts can help a writer's muse.
Another woeful dirge that makes the reader want to reach out and lend support to this character that is caught in life's tar baby affect of knowing the harder you try to release yourself the more you get stuck.
This person is right to turn the focus on oneself for the blame in this predicament. Feeling nothing but void and falling deeper into the abyss shows no hope with these 'chains of self-doubt' as the entangled burden.
Those last two lines of questioning their past mistakes and lack of direction signal a sad end.
I have read all of your works contained in this folder of poetry and found quite a few intriguing works. Quite a variety, including the various forms, showing you are open to try different genres or styles of expression.
'Crimson Teardrops' was one of the best and found several poems of related themes that gave some unity to the works within.
As unusual as it might seem, I connected with 'No Rest For The Weary (my baby killdeer)' which triggered some flashbacks of childhood memories for me.
I enjoyed reading and reviewing these works very much.
There is a lot of imagery at work here to express the inner workings of a mind that does not wish other trespassing inhabits.
I had a funny thought after reading this, 'a long way of saying leave me alone.{/}' And it's almost like a Halloween haunted mansion when you add up all the images from 'dungeon,' 'ride,' 'skeletons,'cell of torture,' 'enter at your own risk,' etc.
Another case of depression that resides in the soul of one who requires solitude. There is a consistent rhyme to this dirge. Could not find any grammatical or other errors.
I am consumed with the expression by many poems about depression. I find it hard to express the feelings poignantly myself, because it is such a personal thing. This is a great undertaking.
As with depression, expression becomes limited and in a sense this poem portrays that feeling of wanting to hide within and not emote, sort of life self-destruction...because this person is ushering people away.
But the irony is, we want attention. And it would seem despite the refusal for help the plea is still made at the end. It's like we want someone to fuss over us, to ease the sadness, and when none is forthcoming, the plea is made.
So you have captured what depression is about. I found a line that read awkwardly for me...
I want left here alone.
Seems like something was left out. But overall, this expresses the feelings depression brings.
Sweet and simple love poem that flows and has a somewhat mirror like effect with the repeated phrase...
There is a love
above all others{/}
My first impression was this could be some sort of poetry form, but it doesn't seem to do more than repeat those lines as the voice urges its subject to come closer and closer to whisper the secret name of their love.
First your first love poem, you have created a little gem. This reminded me of the song by Rickie Lee Jones called 'Chuckie's In Love,' that doesn't reveal who this new love is until the end.
Very nice construct and sweetly emoted with an allure to hook the other to come closer until they are seduced, quite possibly, into love as well.
What a powerfully emotive piece and such a sad story that makes me long to hug that young child, if the comfort would even help.
Such strength, courage and determination shown there and to parallel it to the Tiananmen Square creates such a visual and emotional moment.
One thing made me wonder is how they got past the child blocking their path? But you put that feeling of being run down by that tank and that was probably the most emotional moment.
This is a heartbreaking story and one I know my neighbors dealt with at Christmas two years ago.
For that child to be standing out there waiting afterwards and for all time just filled me with that sense of abandonment.
A brave and intelligent piece of poetry that I am sure will touch many.
Getting yet another deeper perspective of the affected poet and what drives the dirge heard in these works.
This person is not born into the silver spoon in your mouth set and has been runover by the pretty people in their Mercedez and BMWs without casting a glance. It's almost like this person needs to be accepted by these people with the obsession of the rejection.
It is true, that society seems to treat the lesser advantaged like trash to be snubbed and left at the curb for removal.
These people are so flawed, it's sad they have all the advantages when the real people of the world are the cogs, wheels and other mechanisms that make everything click. They are just the shiny adornments to the outside of this functioning automobile, and they are the ones who are along for the ride. And the first to hit the wall in a crash and have those pretty little faces dented.
How do like that one. Yeah, I hate those people too. I want their money!
As I read this, I got that feel of life after death and perhaps a state of purgatory. Considering the other works by you that I have read, I had a notion this person's past transgressions got them a one way ticket to Hell.
As we near the end of this piece, there is a calm and each about it that makes one think of a scene similar to heaven. And this seems to be working at my mind because I know you want to send this person to the incinerator. And I can imagine Satan being deceptive to have that last laugh.
[i}Only a few more steps to take
And your journey will be over
Just step into the light before you
Welcome to your after-life.{/i}
I envisioned this person in awe, bags packed, fresh off the bus, taking in the scene and then the lights go down. So what happened? I still think it was Hell. Perhaps, suggesting it won't be so bad.
But another thought looms, perhaps this is an allegory for something else.
Either way, another provocative read.
Brian
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