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JaxMyth
Posted on: Nov 22 18, 21:15


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I've grasped the morning mist in search of God.
I've tried dissecting sunlight and have found
no joy. I'm told that it's amazing grace
that steers the blessed few to Holy Ground.

But what of us? We're damned by unbelief.
We're sure there's more and sure it can't be less
but what it is, without some faith, none know.
And I, a Doubting Thomas, will not guess.
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151129 · Replies: 3 · Views: 737

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 31 18, 14:28


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Larry,

Could you please point me towards an authority for your consonantal rhyme?

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151067 · Replies: 10 · Views: 1,912

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 31 18, 06:02


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Larry,
Larry,

Consonant rhyme is the rhyming of consonants that bookend the vowel.

Examples:

spill/spall
crimp/cramp
metre/mitre
ground/groaned

Wilfred Owens uses it to great effect in his poetry.

Regards,

Jax



  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151065 · Replies: 10 · Views: 1,912

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 20:13


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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 31 18, 03:45 ) *
Hello Anthony and Jax,

What a surprise to find anyone commenting on my posts other than Daniel. Although there were no asterisks requesting critique, I don't mind at all.

Answering the first: It may be because of pronunciation differences but according to my Espy's "Words to Rhyme With" both sets of aforementioned end-rhymes are referenced to be proper. Any long "e" sound rhymes with nearly all words ending with "y", whether it be "ly", "ty", etc. I've no clue as to your problem with "healed/spilled" rhyme.

Now, as far as the theology in L1-4 and continuing throughout the rest of the poem, it all has to do with the gift of a "soul". When it is placed or given by some omnipotent being, it is pure and unscarred by sin or other stain derived from living life. What one does throughout life can mar the purity of that soul but Christian teachings lead us to believe the blood which was shed on the cross washes the soul clean. I know different faiths believe different things and I've explored a few of them but most lead one to believe that forgiveness is given when the truly penitent ask.

Don't really like getting into a theological dissertation so I will leave you with the above explanation of the poems' content.

Appreciate the visit very much seeing as how MM is nearly a ghost town these days.

Larry


'healed' has a long 'e' 'spilled' has a short 'i' ergo no rhyme.
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151063 · Replies: 10 · Views: 1,912

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 20:09


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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 31 18, 04:05 ) *
Hello Jax,

I see you have three asterisks for critique purposes but I can find nothing I would change. You wrote a very good poem for the Captain's point of view but I doubt he did a lot of soul-searching when running his ship. You gave him what I think he deserved and that being said, I got a nice chuckle out of your last couplet.

Larry


Bligh was much maligned especially by the mindlessness of Hollywood but he was a brilliant and courageous seaman and navigator although one with little understanding of his fellow men

He was indeed hauled out of bed with his arse unbreeked.

Regards,

Jax



  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151062 · Replies: 4 · Views: 1,284

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 20:09


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QUOTE (Larry @ Aug 31 18, 04:05 ) *
Hello Jax,

I see you have three asterisks for critique purposes but I can find nothing I would change. You wrote a very good poem for the Captain's point of view but I doubt he did a lot of soul-searching when running his ship. You gave him what I think he deserved and that being said, I got a nice chuckle out of your last couplet.

Larry


Bligh was much maligned especially by the mindlessness of Hollywood but he was a brilliant and courageous seaman and navigator although one with little understanding of his fellow men

He was indeed hauled out of bed with his arse unbreeked.

Regards,

Jax



  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151061 · Replies: 4 · Views: 1,284

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 08:32


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Bligh


Before the wind could whisper of a gale
my tongue would taste its presence in the air,
I’d feel the swell of ocean muscle hale
up from the deep, although all else was fair.
Before the canvas cracked, before the flail
of rigging gave, before a spar could split
along some sap-wrought weakness in its grain,
before a cloud could clear its throat and spit

I’d know, as though I’d scried this globe of pain
together with the One Who’d fashioned it.

I’m hard and I was born for hard command.
I’ve hammered down the sun and stars and nailed
their genius to my wake. I am the Hand
of God at sea and I have never failed
in duty nor have been by fear unmanned.
Yet I, despite all this, cannot exscind
that I am man who cannot fathom man
and soft with men I should have disciplined.

I'm forced to map anew my mortal span,
they’ve put me arse unbreeked, into the wind.
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151052 · Replies: 4 · Views: 1,284

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 08:28


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I played around to pun on cinquain to make it Cain's sin:

My hand
once held a stone
that was harder than hate,
its scalloped edge was knapped to rip
your flesh.

Anger,
scalded my lips.
I sang you songs of death.
Yet now, I kneel down beside you
to taste

the wounds
that are your head,
to give my heat to you,
to sing no hate, to use no stone.
I sound

my heart
and I wonder
why we shared a mother?
When you were not at all like me.
Brother.
  Forum: Poetry Education -> Karnak Crossing · Post Preview: #151051 · Replies: 2685 · Views: 120,406

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 08:18


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Sorry Larry I did not note the lack of asterisks.
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151050 · Replies: 10 · Views: 1,912

JaxMyth
Posted on: Aug 30 18, 08:12


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Larry,

While I do not have a problem with 'me' and 'mortality' 'healed and spilled bring me up short.

I am a little unsure of the theology in L1-4 and indeed in much of the rest. It does not give insight.

I would like to be more positive but cannot at this stage,

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: Fixed Form and Rhyming Poetry for Critique -... · Post Preview: #151049 · Replies: 10 · Views: 1,912

JaxMyth
Posted on: Jan 4 09, 18:26


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Hi Merlin,

Can a screech careen
Yes, if it’s bouncing off walls.
ca·reen (k-rn)
v. ca·reened, ca·reen·ing, ca·reens
v.intr.
1. To lurch or swerve while in motion.
2. To rush headlong or carelessly; career: "He careened through foreign territories on a desperate kind of blitz" Anne Tyler.
3. Nautical
a. To lean to one side, as a ship sailing in the wind.
b. To turn a ship on its side for cleaning, caulking, or repairing.
v.tr. Nautical
1. To cause (a ship) to lean to one side; tilt.
2.
a. To lean (a ship) on one side for cleaning, caulking, or repairing.
b. To clean, caulk, or repair (a ship in this position).
n. Nautical
1. The act or process of careening a ship.
2. The position of a careened ship.
[From French (en) carène, (on) the keel, from Old French carene, from Old Italian carena, from Latin carna; see kar- in Indo-European roots.]

[b]Therefore, I still question the usage.
[/b]

Using twi-lit would clash with twilight right below it.

“where twilight shelters me
where the poltergeist appears”
Hmmm – wears out the wheres, dontcha think?

What I meant was:
here in this twi-lit room
where the poltergeist appears.


Do poltergeists have footsteps?
Is it the poltergeist making the footsteps?
One assumes from the text that it is.

You feel a draft?

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #112574 · Replies: 16 · Views: 5,453

JaxMyth
Posted on: Jan 4 09, 18:03


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Hi there is much to like in this. Some comments in line:

QUOTE (vessq @ Jan 3 09, 08:56 ) [snapback]112514[/snapback]
THE APOLOGY

Did you ever step across a horse
In the chill before the dawn
And leave a woman wondering
How long you would be gone?

She'd know you were home
When she heard you at the door
You'd never even say
What pasture you were headed for.
You have gone from saying that you were going and now you are home and about to go again, the time thread of narrative is broken and the reader is left wondering why. The metre is also off.

Never thought that she might worry
When you stayed out way late
The clashing stresses do not work perhaps this separation:
When you stayed out way too late

Maybe lay awake and listen hard
The syntax is lost, perhaps:
Never thought she'd stay awake

Trying to hear you at the gate


Did she think you might be laying hurt
From a cow wreck or a fall
From a cow wreck or from a fall
And wonder where to go and look
Or which neighbor she should call?
Interesting construction "cow wreck"

You are gray as granite now and careful
No careless cowboy any more
And decide to ask forgiveness
For all the worry you caused her
The dropping of true rhyme does not work here.

Through a puzzled laugh, you hear her say
I slept right through the goofy things you'd do
Because when we both were twenty
I was immortal, just like you.


As I said there is much to like but the beats need to be regularised and the syntax repaired. Re-read from the view point of the flow of narrative and adjust.

Use or lose,

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #112572 · Replies: 10 · Views: 3,809

JaxMyth
Posted on: Jan 2 09, 10:05


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Hi Merlin,

It seems accentual trimeter but L6 S2 does not satisfy.

When evening shadows grope
over the boxwood hedge, (Great opening.)
screeches careen into my ears (Can a screech careen?)
here in this blue-lit room (here in this twi-lit room)
where twilight shelters me
but still that poltergeist appears. (where the poltergeist appears.)

There’s nowhere left I can run
and nothing more for me to do.
What’s that? I hear footsteps, (Do poltergeists have footsteps?)
there’s nobody here!
No-one is near,
no phantom incubus, (Is an incubus not a phantom?)
no evil voodoo spell,
no booze to paralyze my fear.

It does appear to be a preliminary draft.

I hope that is of some use.

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #112512 · Replies: 16 · Views: 5,453

JaxMyth
Posted on: Jan 1 09, 08:09


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It is accentual Ron.

Many thanks,

Jan
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #112490 · Replies: 5 · Views: 2,200

JaxMyth
Posted on: Dec 30 08, 08:05


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Drab-olive water dimples. It is the slack on low water. Boats fret and jerk at their moorings. Gulls squabble. The trees pulse a cicada tinnitus that dulls the burble of the oyster punts. The sun becomes heavy and I move my arm off the balcony rail and onto the table. You smile and I smile. The Veuve Clicquot tastes like velvet toast.

slack water
a cicada shell
spirals slowly



Dessert. You have chosen zabaglione. I fuss with the menu, and choose what I always choose. You laugh, softly. Annoyed, I look out past the glints sliding across the flats. There, asleep in the mud, tenders, clinker-built and unemployed, dream. A fresh tang of salt cuts through decay and the mad run of the flood tide has begun. “Look!” I point. “Glad tidings ready to slap those tenders awake.” You reach, glide your hand across my cheek and whisper: “I’m more than me!”

flood tide
the mangroves walk into deeper water
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #112457 · Replies: 5 · Views: 1,957

JaxMyth
Posted on: Dec 30 08, 07:52


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REVISION

Sunlight slips past the shade
and gilds the dust into fairy charms
I ache and make wish upon wish
to hold you forever here in my arms.

A mother’s heart is a bird in prison
with wings that shudder its cage of bone.
Feel, Child, feel them beating
hard and closely to your own.

Now’s time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
inside my womb in the crabscuttled dark.

ORIGINAL

Sunlight slips past the shade
and gilds the dust into fairy charms
I ache and make wish upon wish
to hold you forever here in my arms.

A mother’s heart is a bird in prison.
A frantic shudder in a cage of bone.
Feel, Child, feel it beating
hard and closely to your own.

Now’s time for prayer and time for bed.
You giggle, I laugh and I reach for your hair
but you hurry away from my hollow hand
up to the room at the top of the stair.

I open the door and turn on the light
...there’s no head on the pillow...nothing...no mark.
No sign of you Child...for no-one has been
inside my womb in the crabscuttled dark.
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #112456 · Replies: 5 · Views: 2,200

Poll: MMHC Poll
JaxMyth
Posted on: Mar 25 08, 21:36


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Voted!

Regards to all

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> MMHC (Holiday Classic) -> Hal... · Post Preview: #107320 · Replies: 21 · Views: 13,008

JaxMyth
Posted on: Nov 19 07, 19:21


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QUOTE (heartsong7 @ Nov 16 07, 01:58 ) [snapback]104322[/snapback]
This is beautiful work... poetry indeed! but is it form? It definately flows but is without consistant meter or rhyme. No matter... I love the sound of it read aloud and the haunting message within.
Sue


Thank you Sue as I said to Merlin it is accentual tet with the central section bundled into one paragraph.

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #104421 · Replies: 6 · Views: 2,417

JaxMyth
Posted on: Nov 19 07, 19:18


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Hi Merlin,

QUOTE (Merlin @ Nov 13 07, 14:39 ) [snapback]104283[/snapback]
This is very interesting, Jax.
I'm unfamiliar with the form, but my guess is that it's a prose poem. It definitely fits into open form writing.

Accentual Tet the central section was also the same but I felt it worked better as a whole..

In L3, I'm wondering if you've chosen the best modifier for the tide - my choice would not be with "making". Several come to mind which appear stronger and livelier.

The 'making' tide, the flood tide, the rising tide, the in-flowing tide, but here is a tide midwifing song, a maker.

At the end of V2, you state "the thorns of a tree", which, to my mind, would sound better simply as "the thorn trees", not to confused with the book & mini TV series. Those were the thornbirds, weren't they?

But these are not thorn trees, there are many native Australian trees with thorns and these are used by butcher birds to impale gobbets of meat or whole carcases for future use.

There are images of Kalevela that appear while reading. That's a rather voluminous, Finnish saga. One fellow went and stole a wife from another tribe, and when she wouldn't stop squawking, he turned her into a seagull.

There tis.

Merlin


This is a tale, my own in part, set in the Dreamtime.

Thanks for commenting, it is appreciated as always,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #104419 · Replies: 6 · Views: 2,417

JaxMyth
Posted on: Nov 11 07, 20:28


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Stonehenge, Winter Solstice

Bejeweled in hoar, dried stalks of yarrow stand
Perhaps "bejeweled by hoar"
forlorn, like plainsmen from a far flung zone
who guard the mystic ring of circle stones
and watch as pilgrims come from distant lands.

One group of faithful, several hundred strong,
have made their camp, a village of a sort,
not far away. Their children play at sports
while men-folk meet, debating right and wrong.
If "rights and wrongs" it would keep to your interesting rhyming scheme.

When daylight pales the eastern starless sky,
"starless skies"
a mellow chanting starts, imploring gods
and every living saint to turn these sods
"to turn each sod"
back into fertile ground lest all must die.

The daystar casts its rays across the plain;
"the plains;"
observers note their chants are not in vain.



Enjoyed.

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #104268 · Replies: 8 · Views: 3,659

JaxMyth
Posted on: Nov 11 07, 20:12


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Hidden from the grip of mangrove roots
my song was born. I gave her breath
and she woke to the slap of the making tide.
The men heard her and they became shadows
on the face of the moon with their hands on fire.
We ran from the rocks and the roar and the crack
but the fingers of the lightning men found us.
She fled from my mouth on a frantic wing
and keened to the gorge where the river chuckles
and the echoes tell sweet lies.

The men called on the sun to wake and find her but the sun would not, so the men grew angry and swallowed him. They twitched long spears onto their arms and legs and twirled through clouds of dust to change into birds; and as birds they went hunting. The sea-birds found her and the kingfishers caught her and the song-birds took her and the lyre-birds sang her to the crows and ravens; but the crows and ravens hated beauty and the eagle ripped her leaving little for the butcher-birds to hang in the thorns of a tree.

The women caught me, crying on the ebb,
drifting back on the falling water.
They pulled me out and beat me hard.
“Your song wasn’t true, she needed death
We know truth and truth is pain.
Women have wept the ocean’s water.”
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #104265 · Replies: 6 · Views: 2,417

JaxMyth
Posted on: Nov 2 07, 07:11


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My thanks to you all.

Things will resolve over the next few months.

The kindest of regards to you all, you have made me so welcome.

Jan/Jax
  Forum: Member Announcements -> Basilica · Post Preview: #104010 · Replies: 6 · Views: 4,477

JaxMyth
Posted on: Oct 28 07, 19:01


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My mother has passed away, it was her time.
  Forum: Member Announcements -> Basilica · Post Preview: #103922 · Replies: 6 · Views: 4,477

JaxMyth
Posted on: Oct 4 07, 08:29


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Some thoughts in line Sam,

QUOTE (4rum @ Sep 29 07, 09:03 ) [snapback]102880[/snapback]
Written in tribute to Princess Iohagh

Hot Blooded


As dusky eve'n time descends
(At dusk the evening light descends)
Chase the shadows ‘cross the glens
(chasing shadows 'cross the glens)
Tiny princess know her hour
(The tiny princess knows the hour)
To close the petals of each flower

Now take to wing (dear - or other monosyllabic descriptor) pixie sprite
Much to do, for comes the night
(There's much to do for here comes night)
Into the dark of dream(')s abyss
(and) Seal each blossom with your kiss

Such charge is given Iohagh
Not a chore, but pleasure draw
(This line does not make much sense)
(as) From her power, grace and duty
She gives the world n(N)ature(')s beauty

But of a night steeped in gloom
(However night is steeped in gloom)
(and) Aphids come to kill the bloom
And Iohagh alone doth stand
Before the murd’rous evil band

With legions legs do they walk
They pierce and suck each fragile stalk
A wave of death sweep(s through) [o’re] the glade

And Iohagh draw(s) her blade…

With battle cry she make(s) the fray
(BTW a battle cry cannot make the fray)
(so or something else an unstressed syllable is missing) Parry, thrust then dance away
Forge again to fracas fierce
(really does not mean anything)
Her Elvin blade the evil pierce
(The inversion is so overly poetic)

And on and on and on t’ward morn
(and on and on towards the morn, there is no need for the faux archaism)
Though bruised and battered, sadly torn
The tiny princess cannot falter
She lay her fate at heavens alter
(She lays her fate on Heaven's altar.)


On weakened knee but strengthened prayer
She speak(s) her vow into the air
Oh Lord of day, Lord of night,”
“Hear my plea, see my plight,”

And in an instant flash of green
Come Ger-ta mighty mantis queen
With jagged lethal lightning claw
She stand(s) her ground with Iohagh

On Ger-ta’s back in blueblack robe
The Watcher of all gardens rode
With magic sceptre held up high
He smite(s) the aphid…and they die

Now Ger-ta gently in her maw
Take(s) the broken Iohagh
And carr[y](ies) her to Watcher’s lair
(the language is far too tortured)
Where he can mend the princess fair

With herb of land, sky and ocean
The Watcher conjure(s) (either an article or 'potion' must be made plural) saving potion
A poultice, salves and sweet elixir

Grammar must always be addressed.


If of use please use if not discard.

Regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #103279 · Replies: 8 · Views: 3,379

JaxMyth
Posted on: Oct 4 07, 08:04


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Member No.: 408


QUOTE (Judi @ Oct 4 07, 12:41 ) [snapback]103249[/snapback]
I love this very abstract and very beautiful poem...I wonder if you have some near rhymes on purpose, or it it just worked out that way...whatever the reason, I won't haggle over it...I like it the way it is. Brava, Jan. My best, Judi



Yes Judi,

to echo the man's work.

Many thanks and regards,

Jax
  Forum: ARCHIVES -> Poetry for Crit Prior to 2011 · Post Preview: #103277 · Replies: 6 · Views: 2,625

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