Haiku or... crap, I forget what they're technically supposed to be called when they're not about nature and don't have a specific kind of first line. Anyway, it's fine enough, and maybe I'm reading into it too much, but is this describing a Dyson sphere?

Off from the rigorous structure of a limerick, which usually has 9, 9, 6, 6, 9 syllables, and the stress pattern is usually anapests or amphibrachs. It's not considered a bad thing for the words to feel forced into their stress pattern, as that's common and sometimes thought of as somewhat essential.

As to story, I really don't know. I don't know why heliocentrism is singled out as something Holmes is trying to forget, and I'd take the poem more from Watson's point of view is accusing Holmes of "trying" to forget it, since it doesn't seem like he'd actually want to. Then in the end, it's really going to hinge on the reader recognizing what's honestly a very obscure name these days. Knowing Holmes, I figured it must be a composer or violinist, and it turns out to be both, but I'm a classical music aficionado, and I had only vaguely heard the name before. Not that it would fit a limerick well, but wasn't Holmes more obsessed with Beethoven's violin concerto? I like the idea, but it's pretty esoteric.

On structure, it looks like only the 2nd and 4th lines rhyme, and the lines alternate 8 and 10 syllables. That makes for a somewhat irregular read, but there's nothing wrong with it. The second line of the final stanza seems to come up a syllable short, though.

On story, I'm really not sure what's happening here. Is this someone watching a nuclear explosion? But I'm not sure why he's doing that, whether he's the one who caused it (and again why), and that leaves me not knowing what the last line is supposed to mean. Good imagery, but I'm lost as to what point it's making.

Structurally, I'm not sure what you're going for. There's not a regular meter. The first stanza has an ABAB rhyme scheme which sets up expectations, but the rest are ABCB. That first stanza even had an internal B rhyme in the third line, but then the third stanza has an internal C rhyme.

I suppose the title should have clued me in, but I didn't understand what was going on until the final stanza. I though the "you" in the first line was to some non-specific person, and the two middle stanzas don't really evoke someone screwing up the universe, so it's only at the end I see what the story to it is, and they I have to go back over it all. I think it would have been more coherent if you'd made that clear in the first stanza. Once that understanding dawns, though, it's a fun enough poem.

"if you'd be like a job"
The "be" is extraneous there, right?

"though not, of course, at her heels since she has regular animal feet instead of human feet so it's just her toes on the ground with her heels sticking out behind her above my head even when I'm sitting up"
This struck me a little odd, since there are no humans in the story and Esker doesn't live around any, so why is a human-shaped foot his primary frame of reference? You do have him aware of his audience, and maybe he knows his audience is human?

"when I wasn't broken or on fire of something similar"
Was that "of" supposed to be a second "or"?

"we quickly found ourselves"
"I'd found my voice by then."
Pretty soon to repeat that word already.

This sure sounds like other similarly cute things you've entered before, and it just might fit in really well with all the Cluny lore. Fun read, and the only thing it left me wishing for (and you probably didn't have the time/space to add it) is some demonstration of the relationship. A lot of it comes out well enough through anecdote and reference, but it might be nice to see an example of Esker actually helping Basilon and being useful. Without that, I'm wondering whether he ever is or Basilon just humors him.

The line beginning "My field" is a syllable short. Otherwise, the rhyme and meter all work. It did take a second try to get the short stanzas right in my head, since they change the stress pattern from the longer stanzas; a reader will naturally assume at first that it'll be consistent in the type of foot used, even if the number of feet will clearly be changing just by the noticeably shorter lines.

If I'm reading this right, a guy who was warned of the dangers of interacting with fairies indulges in doing so anyway, gets fascinated by it, and withdraws just in time to avoid losing himself. And not just any interaction, but a royal procession. This is very evocative and creates a strong mood. I think it was a good choice to use feet with two syllables, since that creates a walking or marching feel that matches what the fairies are doing. This was fun.

I'm unclear on whether the birds are chastising humans for having fake bird calls (in cuckoo clocks or whatever) that don't do the real thing justice, or if they're saying that human music doesn't approach the beauty of birdsong. If the latter, then is the intent that the reader will pick up on the bird's hypocrisy? It accuses humans of copying birdsong without understanding its expressiveness, yet human music also undoubtedly has expressiveness in it that birds wouldn't understand, and the bird doesn't concede that possibility.

In form, there are no hitches, except that there are two ways to pronounce "banal," and I've always heard "BAY-null," so that's how I read it at first. Another cute poem.

Ugh, missed a poetry event while I was on vacation. Everyone tied for gold!

Assuming I actually know how Skrillex is pronounced (and I may well not), the stress pattern seems backwards to fit the meter, but otherwise, this has no issues with rhyme or meter. I also like it when authors don't feel obligated to have line endings coincide with pause points in the sentences. Very brief but nice peek into someone who cares about his wife and wants to encourage her fun even though she's not talented at singing. This was cute.

I'm more confused than anything. Is this something like The Edge of Tomorrow where one person is starting to give in to the hopelessness ot endless time looping when they find out someone else is as well, and they can collaborate to get out of it? Except inverting that, to where the realization of a kindred spirit only makes things worse? It's a nice setup, but I don't know what the payoff is. There's a twist, yes, and an unexpected one at that, but it's not done in a way that I know what conclusion I'm supposed to draw. Other than that, my only critique is that it relies a bit much on directly telling me what emotions the characters have instead of demonstrating them and letting the reader make the interpretation.

Sorry I missed this round while I was away on vacation, but at least I can still leave comments.

At first, I felt like this was playing too coy. I'll often bug authors for describing scenery and listing a few things present and then concluding with an anticlimactic use of what's essentially "and other stuff." But as I got further in to see what's actually happening here, it actually works, since none of the particulars are important. It's just important that there are a bunch of different places and circumstances without the specifics mattering.

The only thing it leaves me wishing for is why they bothered honoring his father's wishes. Most people these days would just ignore the father if he was forbidding something they were set on doing. Maybe the guy had a close relationship and he did really want to abide by his words if possible. Maybe the dad just had a really controlling relationship with him or held some kind of leverage over him. But without justifying why the guy feels so obligated, especially after his dad is gone and can't offer resistance anymore, I feel like there's a significant piece missing from understanding everyone's motivations. Even more so, since he feels compelled to, and yet he's disregarding the part where his dad said he'd still be watching after he died, and the guy doesn't care about that, so why did he care about any of it? Though I do gather that maybe he's just relying on a loophole as a means of satisfying the conditions his dad placed on it, in which case he's still feeling compelled to obey.

I like the setup to this, but the structural constraints often make it so that the plot advancement per line is a little small (heh), and there's a lot of the middle that ends up being very vague. I'm also wondering how the fish even knew of the river and bay or anything else beyond where it lived. It was also an odd shift to have most of the poem feel like it was in the fish's perspective, only for it to turn out to be a third-person storyteller at the end. I like the sentiment that little steps add up to big ones.

Structurally, this is mostly unconstrained, with no rhythm and only a couple lines from each stanza rhyming. I like the argument between fish and frog, though I'm a little surprised the fish doesn't make a point of the tadpole (and possibly the frog, depending on how large a type of fish it is) being something it eats. Though you only have limited space, and they made their main points. I have to say, the fish makes the better point, when he cites what he's able to do, while the frog can only cite what he sees others do.

I like the interwoven rhyme scheme. I assume it's an existing form, but not one I'm familiar with. I'm not sure what the "amphibious singers" are. At first I assumed frogs, since they're a classic example of metamorphosis, but a little further in, I wondered if it was something like mermaids or sirens, the latter particularly because of the language making the speaker sound allured by having a more open persona, along with the use of "piscine." Structurally, I can find no fault with the rhymes or rhythms. Fun piece, and of course I identify with it.

Sorry I missed this round. I thought I had more time. Oh well, everyone tied for first place!

Free verse, so no structural constraints. It's always hard to try and derive some meaning from how the poet decides to break things into lines or stanzas. Like if this was written out as paragraphs, would it lose anything for it?

It creates a nice mood, linking the similarities between tadpoles and caterpillars, and then branching out to liken them to a child as well. That's where it shines, in the tone and atmosphere it creates.

Typo: some of the other woman who work there

Switched into past tense here: The raccoon bowed slightly.

Another typo: the helving units

Very charming story, and typical of the author. It does hint at a lot of world-building without explaining much, and I wish more of it was elaborated on, but what's here is very fun. I'm a little surprised Linda didn't see this coming when the road bent the wrong way, given that she apparently is used to this kind of thing, but having her react differently could spoil the surprise. I'm also curious whether the multiple Earths mean parallel worlds, as in are there multiple Martys out there. Maybe a bit fast with the hints of a developing romance, since Linda had never shown any interest before, but maybe the short time available has pressed her into action.

The internet black hole ate my comment on this, and I don't remember all of what I said, so I'll try again.

The rhyme of "been" identifies the writer as likely British... and the "s" on the end of gleans kinda breaks that rhyme. The rhythm mostly works, but if possible it's good to avoid words like "orange" and "tertiary" that can be pronounced different ways with different syllable counts. I had to read back over that a couple times to make it fit.

The start seems to be a similar theme to two of the others, where there's still life under the snow that will emerge again in spring, but then it sounds kind of bleak at the end. Yet I can't put my finger on exactly why, since I didn't understand it once the stanza structure started to change. The way you describe the "arrayed" house fronts on a hill (just the fronts, not the whole building, leaving a flat image in my mind) and liken them to something much smaller, celery, puts me in a mind of gravestones, particularly with the mention of death there. If that was intentional, it's subtle, but it worked well.

I wish I got the ending better, but it has a nice atmosphere.

Ah, a rondeau redouble! These are tough to write in English, since you only get two rhymes. I did one for the county fair back in the fall. I even bothered to have the middle of the first line rhyme with the end of it so that last partial line also rhymed with the line before it. I went with tetrameter, whereas you have pentameter, and I don't recall if one's "official."

Very clean on rhyme and rhythm, and I like this picture of the person bundled up inside while watching a bird outside (which would have been harder to understand absent the title, but that's not unusual for poetry) somehow endure the cold. The poet has a knack for creating a charming atmosphere.

Incidentally, there are lots of tells as to who wrote what this time. One referring to southeastern flora, one referencing a "California boy," one using a British rhyme.

Well, this is kind of depressing...

At times it feels like a complaint by someone trapped indoors during the cold weather, and sometimes it sounds like the lament of a tree during the winter. Maybe both? It starts out metered, but a couple lines of the first stanza are short a syllable, and what/forgot is a stretch as a rhyme.

Later, with the irregular line lengths and rapid-fire rhymes, it starts to sound like one of those rap-like freestyle spoken-word riffs, and I feel like this is more appropriately read aloud.

I'm familiar with the Shakespearean sonnet, and while this matches the meter and rhyme scheme of one, the way it's divided into stanzas is a little different. Maybe a Petrarchan sonnet? Either way, the rhymes are all clean, and the rhythm is only a little forced here and there. Straightforward subject matter of life waiting beneath the snow to emerge again in the spring.

Took me a second to find the wound. Was the deer that tame, or was the photo taken with one of those motion-triggered nature cameras? I've lived around deer long enough to know how colossally stupid they are, but he looks rather majestic.

What first strikes me is the way there's a row of concrete or brick that would divide the flowerbed from the grass, but the grass doesn't respect the boundary and comes over it. This is the eternal struggle I have at keeping the stupid grass out of my flowerbeds. I don't know enough about palms to realize what is actually happening here. Is a single palm being split? Is it just a couple being transplanted? Or I guess these may not be palms, since you probably wouldn't plant one that close to a house. I'm not sure I want to know about the "quality lubricants."

I like how weird this looks out of context. Presumably the space down near the ground has lots of other exhibits, but as framed, there's just this metal construction with a random dinosaur that doesn't even seem to fit well there. It's overwhelmed by the space, the color doesn't pop against the background, and it just looks out of place. But then the building itself looks kind of old as well, so there's this unadorned aged skeleton of a structure holding up an unadorned aged skeleton of a dinosaur. It makes an interesting thematic statement.

Hm, this makes me wonder about the situation itself. Why is one flag badly faded? And why does it seem to be trimmed down to mostly the stars? The title can refer to the guy holding the flags, the fact that this very worn flag is still there, the old fort in the background... oh, I see that flag is stylized, with an image of part of the US flag over some text from the Constitution. Yes, one hopes the Constitution is still standing, despite continuing efforts to do otherwise...

I'm not sure what I'm looking at. A vaguely defined creature trying to get up after an injury? The vagueness would help it as a prompt, since it could be interpreted a lot of ways.

That's a rather tall free-standing dead tree. Or maybe a disused utility pole? It does rather look like a dragon, even with suggestion of a wings and tail. Pretty cool to spot that.