Hey! It looks like you're new here. You might want to check out the introduction.


Arch-form rhyme scheme?
Careful with that first stanza, though. ‘Stolen’ and ‘role and’ won’t be any obvious rhyme to most readers, and the effect will be to defray the feel of your complex rhyme pattern.
Careful with that first stanza, though. ‘Stolen’ and ‘role and’ won’t be any obvious rhyme to most readers, and the effect will be to defray the feel of your complex rhyme pattern.

This entry takes a risk by acting as a commentary on another passage--now there are two domains of meaning which must be considered, and that is a lot of complexity!
Can the poet, like a steely closing pitcher in baseball, bring the game to a satisfying conclusion?
Most interesting for me is that the contributed part takes us into a world of verbs--dazzling, casting, uttering, tickling--and asks us to look at the life of a flower as something active.
Can the poet, like a steely closing pitcher in baseball, bring the game to a satisfying conclusion?
Most interesting for me is that the contributed part takes us into a world of verbs--dazzling, casting, uttering, tickling--and asks us to look at the life of a flower as something active.

This is a dark lyric, and might help set the atmosphere for a wider setting (such as a game or a scene in a movie where there is more information). As a poem, the next step would be to clarify the referent of 'it' in the third line.

I just don't understand the issue with Applejack and Rainbow Dash sharing ice cream in the closet.
Was it an intervention for an overweight friend? Was it a pizza party for Sweetie Belle, where adults were discouraged from causing too much disruption? Was the ice cream of a special vintage, to be saved for the occasion of Rarity's first born child?
Perhaps during a muggy night in the city one might be agonized by the memory of a damned cold treat--but AJ and RD can hardly be blamed for that, whatever the circumstance might have been.
This is a kind of cautionary tale against traveling to Italy, in my view. Stay away if you don't want your taste in artisanal food products get in the way of friendly interactions with your cider-guzzling townie friends.
Excellent word count.
Was it an intervention for an overweight friend? Was it a pizza party for Sweetie Belle, where adults were discouraged from causing too much disruption? Was the ice cream of a special vintage, to be saved for the occasion of Rarity's first born child?
Perhaps during a muggy night in the city one might be agonized by the memory of a damned cold treat--but AJ and RD can hardly be blamed for that, whatever the circumstance might have been.
This is a kind of cautionary tale against traveling to Italy, in my view. Stay away if you don't want your taste in artisanal food products get in the way of friendly interactions with your cider-guzzling townie friends.
Excellent word count.

>>Pascoite
>>GroaningGreyAgony
"Creeping Dread" does not figure very predominately in my own emotional repertoire, so for this prompt, I tried to inhabit someone else's point of view.
'Nikki' is the name of my younger sister's best friend, who died many years ago from cancer when they were both still young.
I had my own scare this year, and while I was visiting her over the summer, we had some very serious talks. She said that with the memory of Nikki, and with Covid, and with my own recent troubles, that she has begun to see "clocks over people's heads".
There's turmoil. But my purport was to articulate the feeling of two different kinds of time: one which plays out in the conventional way, with graduations, weddings, kids, etc., where our actions seem to have a place and a course; and the other a "dismay" of this kind of time, which hangs over us, as with the moon's turns.
>>GroaningGreyAgony
"Creeping Dread" does not figure very predominately in my own emotional repertoire, so for this prompt, I tried to inhabit someone else's point of view.
'Nikki' is the name of my younger sister's best friend, who died many years ago from cancer when they were both still young.
I had my own scare this year, and while I was visiting her over the summer, we had some very serious talks. She said that with the memory of Nikki, and with Covid, and with my own recent troubles, that she has begun to see "clocks over people's heads".
There's turmoil. But my purport was to articulate the feeling of two different kinds of time: one which plays out in the conventional way, with graduations, weddings, kids, etc., where our actions seem to have a place and a course; and the other a "dismay" of this kind of time, which hangs over us, as with the moon's turns.

Ah, good, it looks like there are several entries. It turns out writing is fun after all.

I had fun reading this. Claustrophobic application of the second person. I had to re-read once before catching that the passage of time is the chief mechanic. I think the title refers to a meme, but I’m not familiar with it, so it detracts from a story which otherwise has nothing extraneous to it.

I have a small gripe with the simile, “as numerous as the grass, and as fast as rabbits”. Rabbits eat grass, so is the enemy enclave chasing down itself? I can put together the intended meaning, but the gap diminishes the clarity of the image and breaks immersion in your fantasy storytelling.