Hi Larry

You certainly captured the danger of the sea
and its almost mystical lure with which it captivates
many of us.

While not a big fan of enjambment you have
pulled it off well.

I was put in mind of the sermon at the
beginning of Moby Dick, and that
very strange sailors chapel.

Dear Ace thanks so much for the reading and taking time to analyze and comment.

Afruit - poetic license - like awaft , aburst
The redolent has been fixed.

Thanks again for your suggestions.

Dear Cleo

Thanks so much for taking time to read, analyze and suggest improvements.

Of course - my own mispronunciation of buoys cause me to use it in place of something like lifts.

The error has been corrected along with the punctuation errors.

Thanks again

Dear Leonora

I can't believe how I misread your nit and also misread my own poem.

Redolent of course !

Dear Cleo

I want to deeply thank you for your time and comments - You and Leo woke me up to the fact that
I as writer need to put myself in place of the reader.

I have added what I feel is proper punctuation and hope it makes the piece
more readable.

Dear Leo

Please feel no need to apologize as being difficult - I greatly appreciate your
time and attention and your comments.
I have to plead guilty to being a bit too lazy at times, and, not putting enough of
myself in the ears of my readers.

While I have no problem with modifying towering to tow'ring in poetry
I know some people get put off but that type of thing, yet poetry is full
of een and o'er and some of the classical poets often resorted to this
strategy. Pope is full of such 'abbreviations' (Essay on Man) as is Matthew Prior, Swift.
and even Shakespeare.

But despite this I am so glad you pointed out the difficulty you had with reading and
understanding the poem due to these 'abbreviations' (actually only an attempt
to force the reader to pronounce a word the way I wanted), I also am
in your debt for pointing outhow the poem is just crying out for
punctuation.

I have modified the poem and hope you find the result
more readable.

I have revised the poem to make it more readable - latest rev is below
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Majestic lofty pillared cloud,
deep mortars booms, concussing, loud,
reed bush and tree lay flat and cowed,
Valhalla's darklings come.

They come with chill of air and bone,
with gusts the dust and leaves are blown,
strikes fear in beasts turns hearts to stone,
advance the rolling drum.

Bee bird and mouse seek lair to flee,
the ether's charged electric'lly,
the clearest clears of sight you'll see,
da-rum ba-rum da-rum.

Ones senses honed to keenest keen,
more live, aware, you've never been,
chilled thrills are felt and smelt and seen,
raw power all strikes dumb.

It's here with roaring booming crash,
hot searing light's hypnotic flash,
as whips torrential raindrops lash,
to all but storm you're numb.

Dead blinded with the wind and rain,
knocked down by hammered thunder's mien,
in awe you're redefined again,
reality storms plumb.


Michael Pollack ©



----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Original below


majestic tow'ring pillared cloud
deep mortars booms, concussing, loud
reed, bush and tree lay flat and cowed
Valhalla's darklings come

they come with chill of air and bone
with gusts the dust and leaves are blown
strikes fear in beasts turns hearts to stone
advance the rolling drum

bee bird and mouse seek lair to flee
the ether's charged electric'lly
the clearest clears of sight you'll see
da-rum ba-rum da-rum

all senses honed to keenest keen
more live and 'ware you've never been
chilled thrills are felt and smelt and seen
raw power all strikes dumb

it's here with deaf'ning booming crash
hot searing light's hypnotic flash
as whips torrential raindrops lash
to all but storm you're numb

dead blinded with the wind and rain
knocked down by hammered thunder's mien
in awe you're redefined again
reality storms plumb


Michael Pollack ©

Dear Bev - I have added the title as you suggested.
Thanks for reading and sharing a cup.

Dear Leonora - I have to agree with you that redolant seems more
proper than redolent but my Webster's lists it as redolent. I drink it black too
and savor the first cup above all others.

Dear Keith - your third and just the morning? You imbibe much
more than I - thanks for sharing a cup.

Dear John - Thanks much for reading and commenting - I am a
Fall and Winter camper - it's the best, all the other campers are gone and
you can revel in the forest alone with nature.

Dear Marc - sharing a cup literally or poetically is always a joy.

Dear Bev

I hope you are not getting too confused with all of the suggestions.

I am writing only to encourage you to continue your
attempt to write in rhyme and meter.

Perhaps you might benefit from reading some classic
works which are in rhyme and meter.
Frost, Pope, Millay and Dickinson come to mind -

Hang in there

Dear Eira - thank so much for reading and commenting - I knew the title
needed something better and have changed it,

Marc

I can begin to see Mr. Rosario
as a character in Washington Square Park
here in NYC.
I find him (and you) fascinating and
eagerly await the next chapter.
I thought the meter was easilly scanned and can
find no fault in it at all.
I liked the image of the sidewalks
gushing the rifraff etc., it is spot on.

Very original to compare a storm
with a battle on earth.
You drew me into the commotion and
fear which accompanies both.

Wonderfully innovative
you say so much with so little - always a sign of a well
written poem.

Bravo!!

Mocha Java


Aroma too seductive to withstand
its steaming essence lifts my very soul.
From trees afruit in distant foreign lands
each day it knits my mind and body whole.

It's best on icy mornings at a camp
beside a pristine jewel of a lake.
The heat and zest stave off the cold and damp
and jolts the nodding sleeping heads to wake.

Life's mysteries I ponder in the deep
and cyclic swirling eddies of my cup.
Once sipped my thoughts can then begin to creep
into my consciousness and raise me up.

Oh redolent and rich brisk steaming brew
I can't imagine life deprived of you.

Michael Pollack ©

Dear Ron - I just love this form - something deep inside of me responded to it when I read
it somewhere in a poem about a Quaker Meeting years ago.
I have written of all the seasons except summer in the same form - I loathe
the heat and humidity and have been struggling to find a message for Summer.

Thanks again for the reading and comment - the title is a bit inane but with so many
poems about Spring ?
So glad you took to the message.

Thanks much Mark for the reading and I am so glad to have touched you a bit.
I don't mind near rhymes at all but the meter has to be spot on.

Dear Ron

I just love poems about poetry and writing poems and
you've done the subject proud here - our purse
will never increase from our writing , but I guess
it's something deep down inside that we have to do.
You are spot on that the average person is drawn
to a witty poem so much more than to lamented lost
love, woe is the state of the world etc.

I also think young children are naturally drawn to rhyme and meter
and it should woven into their early education and their
earliest books.

Why Eisa this was just lovely - sway seems more suitable to me than glide
I'm so glad to have had the opportunity to read this.
I am also always returning to poems written in the past and
trying to improve them - I think our poetry is like our children
and we never stop caring for them or trying to better them.

Dear John

I want to thank you so much for reading and commenting and even
more for understanding my intent in the last stanza -
The title was not chosed to denegrate the season - just
that there are so many poems to Spring - this is the
even the 2nd or 3rd I've posted - but yes, the season should be
honored and celebrated.

Dear Larry - not only have you written a lovely lyrical poem
which should be near and dear to any poet who is drawn to rhyming meter ,
but you've invented a completely new form it seems - I would call it a swap sonnett.
Bravo !

Hello Master Merlin

Many years have passed since we first met - so nice to see you again.

If I remember correctly you were a strictly rhyming meter poet - this is a departure,
but you have certainly managed to lyrically set a mood and tell your tale
with very few, yet effective words - to my mind always the mark of
a well written poem. My only suggestion is to stock up on the booze!

I am not much of a critic - just enjoy the readings and writing.

As Ron posted
I am also not as critical -
What I like most about poetry is the flow of the poem,
the message and the lyric quality of it all.
Even though your meter altered, the flow did not seem
'broken' to me.
From what I've read of your work - you write often
on this theme and your style has a hypnotic
dream-like quality which is welcomed here.

Dear John

Quite a puzzle you have worked out - I bet it came with plenty of
headaches.
You paint a nice picture of Spring.
See below for a definition of a Villanelle
http://www.public.asu.edu/~aarios/formsofv...2000/page8.html
You have worked out the alteration of the first and third line of the tercet
but the middle line of each tercet is supposed to rhyme

your poem reads
The breezy, sun-drenched days of Spring
spew fluffy flowers as dogwoods’ buds
explode with a colorful, blossoming zing.

April’s gentle, soaking showers bring
a nurturing blanket of softened dew to
the breezy, sun-drenched days of Spring.

A more Villanellishly correct form would be

The breezy, sun-drenched days of Spring
spew fluffy flowers as dogwoods’ buds
explode with a colorful, blossoming zing.

April’s gentle, soaking showers bring
Earth dressed in new array of pastel duds
the breezy, sun-drenched days of Spring.


My only other comment is that the poem would benefit by
more attention to the meter - only a suggestion of course.

VERY innovative and amusing -
You had me grinning during the pleasing read.
A coincidence - I have a friend who is a
failed professional Tenor at the Met - and his
habits are quite close to what you depict of
Mr. Rosario.

Such freshness in the air this day,
the orbs advanced and all is well.
Put by your sackcloth, shed your gloom,
your room no more a cloistered tomb.
Here new foaled lambs cavort and play,
fair Gaea falls 'neath Vernal spell.

Comes Sol's return to Northern skies,
comes dogwoods draped in creamed white gems.
The breeze a-waft with pheromones,
the birds a-woo with bell like tones;
the ether whirs with lusting flies,
renewed is all with leaf and stem.

And now the hour to hoe and till
spread seed and nurture, love the earth;
and well to plant new thoughts in you,
to grow and blossom straight and true.
Make joyous sounds from highest hill
our slates are clean, ourselves rebirthed.

Michael Pollack ©