Poetry Forum

I confess I hadn't noticed that Ray, good spot. I suspect The Guardian (I always do) probably imposed self-censorship on the writer. Whatever the reason, all are guilty.

B.

Bravo.

B.

Nice sentiment, shame about the poetry... was my reaction. Wonder what others think.

Poems for refugees

B.

(Sorry not been around. Long summer holiday. Lazy B)

I like the maps line, but aside from that I'm at a loss. The voice is all over the place and I find the tone to be slightly insulting. Little as a description of a mouse is either deliberately condescending or just plain bad.

It appears I'm in the minority though...

B.

David wrote:And defeating is better than defying.

Agree 100%.

Macavity wrote:ps do you require a full-stop after a question mark?

Not required. I believe the consensus is "acceptable but unwieldy".
Punctuation is often ugly.

B.

JJWilliamson wrote:Is it possible to write a half sestina?

J

Yes. A tritina.

Kudos Suzanne. The first one is always the toughest, but think of it as poetic Pilates. The effort has done you more good than bad. Haters always gonna hate so just ignore their ignorance. Onwards.

B.

I find it a bit too dum-di-dum personally, but that's a taste thing and besides, it's done so skilfully I can't help but admire. The first 8 lines at least that is, like David says the rhythm is lost towards the end. My problem with this kind of poem, where the meter is so loud, is that I come away ...

Not so much. But thanks Ray. I appreciate it.

B.

ray miller wrote:Very good. One of your best, I think

Ouch.

Cheers Ray.

B.

Tweaked this one too, taking on board suggestions from David, Ray and Suzanne. Thanks all.

B.

Just tried another tweak to last stanza. Closer I think. Thinking on smile. Maybe something that implies guilt? Thinking.

B.

Suzanne, I'm immediately put off by the first line. It just has a cheesy pop lyric feel to it and I have to work hard right from the start to engage. Then the sequence of actions seems all wrong. Shouldn't it be wrapped first, then labelled, then tied with a bow and propped? This may sound picky, bu...

Just tried it again. Nope. I honestly prefer it without.

Suzanne wrote:Well, i will be so bold as to say that it sounds too poetic and contrived without "it". Feels forced.

Well, now there's no way I'm putting it back in because that's just plain silly talk!

The other notes are useful. That last stanza is problematic I agree. Thinking . . .

B.

Thank you Suzanne. I can't make my mind up about "to". I originally had it in, then cut it, put it back, cut it again.
Glad it's reading better on the whole.

B.

Thanks all. Revision posted. I'll recycle that Africa line in a comp poem, hopefully.

B.

Thank you Steve. With respect, I might suggest you have a lot of reading to do if your archive of "great poems" includes any of mine.

The encouragement is appreciated, of course (and the note on heather )

B.

Thanks guys. This one has been sitting in the journal for god knows how long, but today it was that Africa line that caught my attention, because thinking about the "Maps" competition. To be honest, because it was drafted so long ago I'm now unsure about my thinking on lots of these lines....

Ecdysis You should teach the world the art of treating that old nemesis depression, like any other bug squashed underfoot until it spits the olive pit of a mind's rot. You've taken that pained smile, that lengthwise wedge of lemon peel and sucked its pith. Washed it down with bowls of raw fish and ...

I am a scion of the Scientist, I bless the chanting scepter's hiss, his groove the gift of many magi's mood. Quite like the sound of that stretch, though no idea what it means. I'm with Ray really, feeling pretty perplexed on the whole. Out of interest, are you of Jamaican heritage? B.

Yeah. Gone.

B.

Reworking/ combination of an old one, some new ideas and experiences. Just noting in case any of you recognise any lines.

B.

One of Six Meanings of Love Love once made of me a moon, locked in orbit with a shoulder turning. Looked through like a window, not a telescope, I added minutes to her days. And when it died we carried on anyway, each gouging and gorging until a kind of sick game commenced, a contest to see who cou...