Unpardoned - Mosaic Musings...interactive poetry reviews

Unpardoned

Arnfinn View Member Profile Find Member's Posts	Jun 4 06, 07:05 Post #1
Creative Chieftain Group: Centurion Posts: 2,587 Joined: 9-August 03 From: Australia Member No.: 17 Real Name: John Writer of: Poetry	Unpardoned He sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking— a cruciform figure in dark shadows. He stops… sighs… then turns— hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. ‘ Here accept the sword of absit omen, you must venture on— go slay your demons.’ A standstill. Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath. Old growth, defused light, black nefarious impediments. The girth of lost days. Each sword stoke— a hollow ring…no echo…no echoes. Enough—we must return to the sunlight. John Macleod copyright Ó 18th March 2006 ·············· Arnfinn Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more details, click here! MM Award Winner

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Guest_Nina_*	Jun 4 06, 16:24 Post #2
Guest	Hi John An intriguing poem though I feel I'm missing something as I've no idea what the story is behind it. A few suggestions, take or leave as you wish. [add] {delete} comment // (line break) I'd suggest a few more line breaks (but that's just me) He sways beside me,// tattered brown fingers //clawing, slapping and shaking— ...good alliteration a cruciform figure in dark shadows. He stops… sighs… {then} turns— //hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. ..again excellent alliteration ‘ {Here} {a}[A]ccept the sword of absit omen, //you must venture on— go slay your demons.’ A standstill. Tall gray torsos, //stout roots underneath. Old growth, //defused light,// black nefarious impediments. ..I love the word nefarious The girth of lost days.// Each sword stoke— //a hollow ring…{no echo…}//no echoes. Enough—//we must return to the sunlight. ..should this be in speech marks? Thus: He sways beside me, tattered brown fingers clawing, slapping and shaking— a cruciform figure in dark shadows. He stops… sighs… turns— hooked thorns suckle strained sinews. ‘Accept the sword of absit omen, you must venture on— go slay your demons.’ A standstill. Tall gray torsos, stout roots underneath. Old growth, defused light, black nefarious impediments. The girth of lost days. Each sword stoke— a hollow ring… no echoes. 'Enough— we must return to the sunlight.' Nina