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My favorite noun in this lyric poem is 'Dark hands'. The administrators of the 'boon' are the most teasing and ambiguous feature of this portraiture, and seem to portend an entire world which abounds about our ghouls. Though, I suppose, it's best we aren't too insistent on the matter--otherwise we're in for a 'ruse'.
There is a some lyricism here, but the tone gets a bit mixed up. We go from birthdays and photographs in mostly plain language to a Greco-Latin vocative
and the image of a sort of Elysian Field. The effect is that the poem leans toward sentimentality, rather than precise statement.
Come down, Old Maid
and the image of a sort of Elysian Field. The effect is that the poem leans toward sentimentality, rather than precise statement.
I think I mostly "pick up what is being put down" by this poem, which rings with me as the intent of its design. It is a counterpart to the submission on Augustine, and a cultural comment, that we hope for an external diagnosis for our feeling of anxiety, to forbear a more treacherous self-diagnosis.
But poetry can be more than just "laying something down". It might, in fact, be more 'accurate' than anything we can say! For example, is there some physical characteristic, like "weak in the knees", which you would associate with being "judged as a hick"? That is a life story, for someone.
But poetry can be more than just "laying something down". It might, in fact, be more 'accurate' than anything we can say! For example, is there some physical characteristic, like "weak in the knees", which you would associate with being "judged as a hick"? That is a life story, for someone.
So I'm guessing this is about a hypochondriac? That's what it sounds like to me. This is probably Griseus or AJ, since they go for looser rhymes that can be okay if spoken but get rather exposed when written. A few word usage issues, like "judge" instead of "judged."
I could understand the poem to a point, but by the end it lost me. Why would good health brand someone as a hick? I don't get what the "freaky date" is, and both ways I could take "tissues" are kind of strange. Is it that he wishes he had a reason to cry into a tissue over a bad health report, or that he's been called unsuitable as a transplant donor? I'll go with the former, since that fits the hypochondriac theme, but I'm still mystified as to what would make people think he was a hick.
I could understand the poem to a point, but by the end it lost me. Why would good health brand someone as a hick? I don't get what the "freaky date" is, and both ways I could take "tissues" are kind of strange. Is it that he wishes he had a reason to cry into a tissue over a bad health report, or that he's been called unsuitable as a transplant donor? I'll go with the former, since that fits the hypochondriac theme, but I'm still mystified as to what would make people think he was a hick.
Regular rhythm, and the only fault I see in it is the stress pattern of "supernatural." It doesn't use rhymes.
My first impression is that this is one of those switcheroos that sounds all serious at first but turns out to be about trick-or-treaters... and that does turn out to be the case. I really like the mood of this one, and the language describing the moon at the beginning takes a good second to sink in. It's a nice delayed effect. Certainly something that's been done many times before, but a good example of it nonetheless, and it was a fun read. The title is a funny rewording of "trick or treat."
My first impression is that this is one of those switcheroos that sounds all serious at first but turns out to be about trick-or-treaters... and that does turn out to be the case. I really like the mood of this one, and the language describing the moon at the beginning takes a good second to sink in. It's a nice delayed effect. Certainly something that's been done many times before, but a good example of it nonetheless, and it was a fun read. The title is a funny rewording of "trick or treat."
I started off liking this a lot. The first stanza paints a clear picture of someone who's in turmoil over someone else leaving long ago. Then the second continues that theme by saying that trauma clouds every friendship since. Still good. The third loses me. Part of it is the strange word choice, and I do appreciate the difficulty of having enough word choice available to you in the first place, since you decided to have every line use the same rhyme. But the only thing I can understand from the third is that the clocks may signify further passage of time while the main character still suffers from that abandonment or loss. Maybe the reference to a play means the act she puts on to hide her pain? The last seems more concretely to keep saying the same things again, that time elapses but the pain doesn't go away. Though I don't know what dreams or prayer have to do with it.
Strong beginning, but the last half largely went over my head, and what meaning I do get from it doesn't develop any after the second stanza. I think this entry may actually do a better job of establishing mood than any of the rest, and the rhyme pattern alone does put the difficulty level up there.
Oh, and you had me wondering whether the title was a reference to Yume Nikki, but I don't know enough about the game to say.
Strong beginning, but the last half largely went over my head, and what meaning I do get from it doesn't develop any after the second stanza. I think this entry may actually do a better job of establishing mood than any of the rest, and the rhyme pattern alone does put the difficulty level up there.
Oh, and you had me wondering whether the title was a reference to Yume Nikki, but I don't know enough about the game to say.
Haiku time! (Pedants need not bug me about whether this is actually a haiku—I'm just happy it meets the syllable pattern.)
I may not be interpreting this right, but it almost seems like a joke to be, juxtaposing the person and the city of the same name. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the person to bring in any context that might help me understand it. Not that that's required—while it means I can't get full enjoyment out of it, poetry commonly does have these sorts of references that only some readers will get, and there's nothing wrong with that. It just means I'm missing the key that would give me the full picture.
I may not be interpreting this right, but it almost seems like a joke to be, juxtaposing the person and the city of the same name. Unfortunately, I don't know enough about the person to bring in any context that might help me understand it. Not that that's required—while it means I can't get full enjoyment out of it, poetry commonly does have these sorts of references that only some readers will get, and there's nothing wrong with that. It just means I'm missing the key that would give me the full picture.
Where time leads us astray,
Take up your tray
And sculpt, resculpt your clay
That aught may stay.
Take up your tray
And sculpt, resculpt your clay
That aught may stay.
In spectered garb, I sit with urn of treats,
And watch the children racing down the streets.
It's been so long, I struggled to believe,
But it's as fun to give as to receive.
And watch the children racing down the streets.
It's been so long, I struggled to believe,
But it's as fun to give as to receive.
>>Heavy_Mole, >>Pascoite
Game of Booze and Ruin
Pasco has it right; while it was not an original conceit, I wanted to describe a common event in an obtuse manner with pretty words. I tried to make it rhyme but judged the result to be too forced. Thanks to everyone for the gold, grats to Heavy and Gris on their gains.
Game of Booze and Ruin
Pasco has it right; while it was not an original conceit, I wanted to describe a common event in an obtuse manner with pretty words. I tried to make it rhyme but judged the result to be too forced. Thanks to everyone for the gold, grats to Heavy and Gris on their gains.
>>Pascoite
St. Augustine in Hell
The ambiguity is my fault; this refers to the city in Florida, which I visited not long ago. I was sick in such a way that caused no external symptoms, but was sapping my energy and giving me a persistent feeling of bleak hopelessness.
I was able to shake it off after a few days, but in the meantime I was invited to the beach. Encouraged to take off my shoes, relax and enjoy myself, I could only stand there as tons of water rushed at me and the pulverized sand ground the calcinacious bones of sea life into useless powder.
Anyway, I usually try to subvert the darker prompts with positive interpretations, but this time I went with the flow a bit. Thanks for your patience.
St. Augustine in Hell
The ambiguity is my fault; this refers to the city in Florida, which I visited not long ago. I was sick in such a way that caused no external symptoms, but was sapping my energy and giving me a persistent feeling of bleak hopelessness.
I was able to shake it off after a few days, but in the meantime I was invited to the beach. Encouraged to take off my shoes, relax and enjoy myself, I could only stand there as tons of water rushed at me and the pulverized sand ground the calcinacious bones of sea life into useless powder.
Anyway, I usually try to subvert the darker prompts with positive interpretations, but this time I went with the flow a bit. Thanks for your patience.
>>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.