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Posted on: Sep 18 10, 14:54 |
Creative Chieftain
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From: Ohio, USA
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Hi Karen, It's so good to know when a poem is working. I'm never quite sure after it's all done, how it will be read by others. re: suffering, yes it's one of those words that can be pronounced with either 2 or 3 syllables and either is correct. I've learned recently, that when reading, we need to let the meter be our guide when a word has optional pronunciations. That's especially helpful when your audience comes from many regions and countries. If I write a poem to accommodate one, it may not the other. If the word appears well into the poem, it should be easy to see which pronunciation the poet intends by hearing the established meter.
Thank you very much for taking the time to read and offer your suggestions. Always helpful. Sue |
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Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011
· Post Preview: #122821
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Posted on: Sep 16 10, 14:21 |
Creative Chieftain
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Joined: 25-June 04
From: Ohio, USA
Member No.: 70
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Set Free
The road is dark; the sky is bleak; her loved ones slain or gone. The rebels steal the wealth they seek, then rape and hurry on. Now all is lost, she has no will, though help lies just beyond the hill. Now all is lost, now all is lost; her baby boy lies cold and still.
The road is dark; the sky is bleak; her husband left them all He ran away, afraid and meek; she saw him trip and fall. They took his head and left him there to rot where not a soul would care. They took his head, they took his head; she saw its empty, icy stare.
The road is dark; the sky is bleak; her journey’s burden great. Her arms grow tired; her body weak. She can no longer wait. She’s going home at last... tonight beyond the brilliant pulsing light, she’s going home. She’s going home, the end of suffering's in sight. |
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Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011
· Post Preview: #122795
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Posted on: Sep 14 10, 15:42 |
Creative Chieftain
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Posts: 862
Joined: 25-June 04
From: Ohio, USA
Member No.: 70
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QUOTE (AMETHYST @ Sep 14 10, 05:20 ) Another older Poem for last minute revisions - you capture the sadness of her lonely life, still hoping till the end for someone to stop and visit. I'm gathering since she's inviting 'all who happen by' that it must be a small inn. Perhaps it's her way of meeting people? I read once that back when there were few inns for travelers, individual home owners would light a candle in the window so travelers would know they would be welcome to stay. If that's the intent here, maybe relay that in L2 rather than the generic 'all'
Sojourn--Quatrain Refrain
A candle quivers on the sill, inviting all who happen by.
Although so many pass at will,... I think 'pass at will' is a bit vague. the doorknob still has not been tried... here the inner rhyme 'still' is one too many in a short space. Here's an example of what I'm trying to relay: "A candle quivers on the sill, inviting travelers passing by a welcome refuge from the chill. no one has stopped or come inside."
At dusk, the hearth is kindled bright, "kindled bright is a bit inverted, doesn't seem a natural way to say there's a fire going. Maybe "the fire burns warm and bright" a pot of coffee freshly filled,.. this is a bit inverted too. just a small switch to fix. "A coffee pot is freshly filled."
and biscuits baked. Her wick ignites; "biscuits baked is awkward without a verb. "Her wick ignites" I know what you mean, but it sounds like it's she's the wick that ignites. I don't think you even need to mention lighting the candle, when the lit candle appears in the next line. How about extending the biscuit line: something like, and flaky biscuits baked just right"
a candle quivers on the sill.
She sits and stares, as shadows dance
into the black of midnight sky,.. Unless she's way up some place in the far north, black is not necessary for describing the midnight sky... how about 'starry'? in hopes her flicker will entrance; this makes it seem as if she is the one flickering. maybe jus 'candle'
inviting all who happen by.
The winter's wind has been no friend ... inner rhyme of wind with friend is too much rhyme. maybe just 'cold' to Beauty Belle, who's fallen ill. She waits alone till evening's end, although so many pass at will. Now I see I remember why I found these so difficult. There's the 'pass at will' line again and my suggestion from S1 won't fit here unless you juggle friend and end. Maybe: It feels like winter never ends and Beauty Belle has fallen ill, and yet, she waits to offer friends a welcome respite from the chill.
Tonight, no dreams of love's embrace, her breathless body calm; Belle died. you can fix the lack of verb by saying 'body's calm' No candle burns, no hearth, no grace... the doorknob still has not been tried. Sorry, I do seem to have gotten carried away. As ever, take or toss anything or everything. |
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Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011
· Post Preview: #122786
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Posted on: Sep 11 10, 10:22 |
Creative Chieftain
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 862
Joined: 25-June 04
From: Ohio, USA
Member No.: 70
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I’m missing dreamy gifts you bring of lovely tranquil views. Each night you stay, I wake to sing a happy tune-- no blues. Don’t leave me now–- when you take flight, I toss and turn all through the night. Don’t leave me now, don’t leave me now; oh spare me such an awful plight.
While missing dreamy gifts you bring, I lie here wide awake, aware of how I rarely sing and every day I ache. Return to me your soothing cloak. I mumble spells I hope provoke: Return to me, return to me, I need you now, you stubborn bloke!
Still missing dreamy gifts you bring, I want my life restored. Oh, how I long to wake and sing the songs I so adored! I pray and plead but you won’t come, as here I lie, awake and numb. I pray and plead, I pray and plead; at last, Sweet Sleep, you're here, ho hum
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Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011
· Post Preview: #122735
· Replies: 7
· Views: 14,667
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Posted on: Sep 11 10, 09:22 |
Creative Chieftain
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 862
Joined: 25-June 04
From: Ohio, USA
Member No.: 70
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Hi there, Michelle, Lori, Liz and Snow. I'm so glad to know you all feel this is working. I had completely forgotten that I had already posted it here, but the fresh look has been helpful.
I like your suggestion for 'will' Liz and will do. I'm delighted to see you, too. It's been a long time.
Oh yes, Snow, re:you; I left a man I did n’t know. that's a headless iamb meant to stress "you" There are still 5 stressed syllables in the line, and I'm told that it's an acceptable variation on iambic meter.
Thank you so much, dear ladies. It's nice to be here again. Sue |
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Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011
· Post Preview: #122731
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Posted on: Jul 30 10, 13:34 |
Creative Chieftain
Group: Gold Member
Posts: 862
Joined: 25-June 04
From: Ohio, USA
Member No.: 70
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2nd revision:
The soaring temperatures preceding solstice evaporated spring again this year, with heavy handed heat that saps your soul and leaves it draped across the sweat-soaked sheets.
While thick, dank darkness drains into your dreams, it stifles all desire and hampers sleep. When morning finally comes, a languid mist, negates all hope the spell’s inclined to lift.
When steamy midday shuttles in its sour white-hazed air, it steals your breath and leaves you feeling limp and listless. By twilight you’re longing for a cooling breeze to brush across your naked body like a leaf.
revision: Summertime in Cincinnati...
Where temperatures preempt the summer solstice, evaporating spring again this year, with heavy handed heat that saps your soul and leaves it draped across the sweat-soaked sheets.
While thick, dank darkness drains into your dreams, it stifles all desire and hampers sleep. Then morning, dripping in a moldy mist, negates all hope the spell’s inclined to lift.
When steamy midday shuttles in its sour white-hazed air it steals your breath and leaves you lazy, limp and listless. By twilight you’re longing for one brief cool breeze to brush across your naked body like a leaf.
Original: A Summer in Cincinnati Is...
Where, earlier than the solstice every year, the summer is announcing its arrival;
where heavy handed heat will sap your soul and leave it draped across the sweat-soaked sheets;
where thick, dank darkness drains into your dreams to stifle all desire and hamper sleep.
where morning, dripping in a moldy mist, negates all hope the spell’s inclined to lift;
where steamy midday shuttles in its sour white-hazed air to steal your breath and leave you lazy, limp and listless. By twilight you’re longing for one brief cool breeze to brush across your naked body like a leaf;
where sometimes sudden storms bring sweet relief. |
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Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011
· Post Preview: #122302
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