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> And The Girl With Chestnut Hair, Faery and Mod Choice Award Winner
Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 27 05, 09:09
Post #1





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© Todd Congreve, 2005. I, Todd Congreve, do assert my right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of The Copyrights, Designs And Patents Act, 1988. (Laws of Cymru & England, as recognised by international treaties). This work was simultaneously copyrighted in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and the United States of America. This work is posted as an unpublished work in order to elicit critical assistance and other helpful comment, only.

Hi, Although this is not the most recent poem I’ve started, it is the 150th I’ve completed.

Thanks very much to WMW, Cathy, Nina and Fran, whose ideas have contrinuted to the AD-AF revision.


Faery Award Winner

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Ref: TC 0390 AF

And The Girl With Chestnut Hair
by TC

He looked within, from without:
soiled shop window.
Its grime captured his attention;
he dreamt elsewhere.

Patterns formed within dirt:
taunting, teasing, traumatising;
testing his focus on the mission...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Wheatfields; woods;
sunshine; girls;
sensuous sessions -
all held him.
No Jack, don’t;
you’ll never see them again.


Yet Heaven offered
all pleasures:
sublime, carnal, ethereal -
happiness,
without boundaries...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Now was the time to:
light freedom’s torch;
ignite passions;
support the fight.

Abstract patterns
formed faces:
his kindred;
martyrs’ relations;
victims’ families...
all there,
in misery -
human despair.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He determined to stop;
travel abroad -
new identity, new life.

No one would know:
he’d marry,
be quiet, yet
have laughter, children...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

She’d green eyes;
light-chocolate skin
years of hope,
promise...
joyfulness.

He could see himself
in love with love...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last chance
for martyrdom.
Or would he leave hate;
live life; be happy? He...

Police! Stop!
You’re surrounded!
Put your hands up!
Slowly...
We will shoot if we have to...


Confused -
glance at window.
Dust shows tortured faces;
children orphaned;
widows made.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Indecision
panic
fear
hatred -
speed through his brain.

He reaches to check -
explosives are ok.

Tat-a-Tat;
        Tat-a-Tat;
                Tat-a-Tat


He falls.
His hand,
round the rope,
jars...

A human bomb explodes.
Buildings disintegrate;
people are shredded:
one man, in several parts,
between two young soldiers...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

(end)


================================
AE to AF revision:

"Cornfields" changed to "wheatfields" - no other changes.

================================

Ref: TC 0390 AD

And The Girl With Chestnut Hair
by TC

He looked within, from without:
dirty shop window.
Its grime captured his attention;
he dreamt elsewhere.

Patterns formed within dirt:
taunting, teasing, traumatising;
testing his focus on the mission...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Cornfields; woods;
sunshine; girls;
sensuous sessions -
all held him.
No Jack, don’t;
you’ll never see them again.


Yet Heaven offered
all pleasures:
sublime, carnal, ethereal -
happiness,
without boundaries...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Now was the time to:
light freedom’s torch;
ignite passions;
support the fight.

Abstract patterns
formed faces:
his kindred;
martyrs’ relations;
victims’ families...
all there,
in misery -
human despair.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He determined to stop;
travel abroad -
new identity, new life.

No one would know:
he’d marry,
be quiet, yet
have laughter, children...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

She’d green eyes;
light-chocolate skin
years of hope,
promise...
joyfulness.

He could see himself
in love with love...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last check that he
didn’t want martyrdom.
He would leave hate;
live life; be happy, he...

Police! Stop!
You’re surrounded!
Put your hands up!
Slowly...
We will shoot if we have to...[/color]

Confused -
glance at window.
Grime shows tortured faces;
children orphaned;
widows made.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Indecision
panic
fear
hatred -
at a zillion MPH,
speed through his brain.

He reaches to check -
explosives are ok.

Tat-a-Tat;
        Tat-a-Tat;
                Tat-a-Tat.


He falls.
His hand,
round the rope,
jars...

A human bomb explodes.
Buildings disintegrate;
people are shredded.
One man, in several parts, lies there,
as do two young soldiers...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

(end)
[/b]




 
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Guest_Cathy_*
post Jun 27 05, 10:21
Post #2





Guest






Hey!  Good morning!

A very moving piece I must say.  Sad it really happens!  :(

He looked within, from without:
dirty shop window.
Its grime captured his attention;
he dreamt elsewhere.
Good imagery!

Patterns formed within dirt:
Another word for dirt to avoid repetition: grease, soil, stains, or filth?
taunting, teasing, traumatising;
testing his focus on the mission...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Cornfields; woods;
sunshine; girls;
sensuous sessions -
all held him.
No Jack, don’t;
you’ll never see them again.
Is he talking to himself here?

Yet Heaven offered
all pleasures:
sublime, carnal, ethereal -
happiness,
without boundaries...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Now was the time to:
light freedom’s torch;
ignite passions;
support the fight.
They must feel this very strongly to do the things they do!

Abstract patterns
formed faces:
his kindred;
martyrs’ relations;
victims’ families...
all there,
in misery -
human despair.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He determined to stop;
travel abroad -
new identity, new life.
If only they could ...

No one would know:
he’d marry,
be quiet, yet
have laughter, children...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

She’d green eyes;
light-chocolate skin
years of hope,
promise...
joyfulness.

He could see himself
in love with love...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last check that he
didn’t want martyrdom.
He would leave hate;
live life; be happy, he...

Police! Stop!
You’re surrounded!
Put your hands up!
Slowly...
We will shoot if we have to...

Confused -
glance at window.
Grime shows tortured faces; Did you want to repeat "grime"?
children orphaned;
widows made.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Indecision
panic
fear
hatred -
at a zillion MPH,
speed through his brain.

He reaches to check -
explosives are ok.

Tat-a-Tat;
       Tat-a-Tat;
               Tat-a-Tat.

He falls.
His hand,
round the rope,
jars...

A human bomb explodes.
Buildings disintegrate;
people are shredded.
One man, in several parts, lies there,
as do two young soldiers...

And the girl with chestnut hair.
I'm assuming that he didn't mean to detonate the bomb but was shot
and his hand still around the rope ...
So very sad!!


Take or toss as you see fit.  The emphasis and strength are already there.
Cathy   unclesam.gif




 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 27 05, 12:00
Post #3





Guest






Hi Cathy!

>C>Hey!  Good morning!

And a very good day to you, too.

>C>A very moving piece I must say.  Sad it really happens!  

Thank you. Yes, indeed.

>C>Good imagery!

Thanks.

"Patterns formed within dirt:"

>C>Another word for dirt to avoid repetition: grease, soil, stains, or filth?

Thanks will think on't. Unsure if dirt and dirty clash that much? Maybe they do.

"No Jack, don’t;
you’ll never see them again."

>C>Is he talking to himself here?

Possibly. Certainly no outside person is talking to him. Conscience?

>C>They must feel this very strongly to do the things they do!

Yes, indeed - part of the point of this.

"He determined to stop;
travel abroad -
new identity, new life."

>C>If only they could ...

Sometimes possible but I take your point: once trapped.

"Grime shows tortured faces;"

>C>Did you want to repeat "grime"?

Nope: hadn't spotted that - thanks will change one or t'other.

>C>I'm assuming that he didn't mean to detonate the bomb but was shot
and his hand still around the rope ... So very sad!!

We don't really know. I don't know. Either that or he decided it was useless; all lost so might as well be a martyr.

>C>Take or toss as you see fit.  The emphasis and strength are already there.

Thank you Cathy - I have carefully read all you've said and will certainly use some of it to make changes.

Much appreciated.

J.
 
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Guest_Nina_*
post Jun 27 05, 12:35
Post #4





Guest






Hi James

Congratulations on your 150th completed poem.  Quite an achievement.  I also think this is the longest poem of yours that I have read.
A vivid, very moving tragedy.  At the end I came away feeling sympathy for the suicide bomber and anger at the police.  Undoubtably what he was planning on doing was terrible and very wrong, but you put his reasons well.  The police on the other hand don't seem to have any reason to justify the shooting of the man.  Questions in my mind are: why were they armed and surrounding him in the first place?  Why did they shoot without giving him a chance?  Did they know he was carrying explosives.  The scenario reminds me of the incident in Hackney (which I think I have mentioned on here before) where a man was shot dead by police who thought he was carrying a shotgun.  What he actually had, wrapped up, was a table leg.
The tragedy is that the bomber had chosen life over martyrdom and that choice was taken from him and because of over hasty actions by the police, many were killed.

A few comments on the poem.
[add] {delete} (comment)

I notice that up till the verse where the police appear, you write in the past tense, then you switch to the present.  I think the whole poem would be even more powerful a read if in the present tense is used all the way through.

Now was the time to:
light freedom’s torch;
ignite passion{s};
support the fight.



He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last check that he
didn’t want martyrdom.(I find these two lines a bit awkward but I can't think of a better alternative except perhaps - one last/final taste/moment of matyrdom)
He would {leave}[abandon] hate;
live life; be happy, he...


Confus{ed}[ion] -
glance at window.
Grime shows tortured faces;
children orphaned;
widows made.


Indecision
panic
fear
hatred -
{at a zillion MPH,} (I think this line is un-necessary, the image is there with the word speed in the next line)
speed through his brain.


A human bomb explodes.
Buildings disintegrate;
people are shredded.
One man, in several parts, lies there,
as do two young soldiers...


(these last two lines could have greater impact, perhaps something like:)
Strewn amid the debris -
a man's severed limbs,
two young soldiers...

Thanks for another thought provoking read

Nina




 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 27 05, 13:39
Post #5





Guest






Hi Nina,

Thanks for your visit and crit.

>N>Congratulations on your 150th completed poem.  Quite an achievement.

Thanks - though I'm dwarfed by Alan. Actually, I'm dwarfed by most people...

>N>I also think this is the longest poem of yours that I have read.

It is probably the longest I've written. What a coincidence! :)

>N>A vivid, very moving tragedy.

Thank you.

>N>At the end I came away feeling sympathy for the suicide bomber and anger at the police.

Ah! I'm t'other way round. Most interesting.

>N>Undoubtedly what he was planning on doing was terrible and very wrong, but you put his reasons well.  The police on the other hand don't seem to have any reason to justify the shooting of the man.  Questions in my mind are: why were they armed

Virtually all countries have permanently armed Police - the UK is very exceptional in not having one. In my mind when I wrote this the setting was probably Tel Aviv.

>N>and surrounding him in the first place?

I don’t know - he looked suspicious? They had a tip-off?

>N> Why did they shoot without giving him a chance?

Maybe they did? Maybe they thought he was going to explode the bomb?

>N>Did they know he was carrying explosives.

Sorry, I don’t know. I wasn’t taken into their confidence.

>N>The scenario reminds me of the incident in Hackney (which I think I have mentioned on here before) where a man was shot dead by police who thought he was carrying a shotgun.  What he actually had, wrapped up, was a table leg.

Yes, though this was worse (in the poem) because a bomb is deadly to more people at once.

>N>The tragedy is that the bomber had chosen life over martyrdom and that choice was taken from him and because of over hasty actions by the police, many were killed.

Had he? I’m not so sure.

>N>A few comments on the poem.

Thanks!

[add] {delete} (comment) I notice that up till the verse where the police appear, you write in the past tense, then you switch to the present.  I think the whole poem would be even more powerful if in the present tense all the way through.

>J>I’m glad you noticed that - it was a deliberate switch. If I write all in one tense I’ll lose the switch. Nevertheless, I’ll consider it, thanks.

>>ignite passion{s};

>J>No, thanks. I meant several types of passion. Passion for self, for family, for religion, for martyrdom, for freedom etc.

>>He fingered the cord;
>>one last feel of power;
>>one last check that he
>>didn’t want martyrdom.(I find these two lines a bit awkward but I can't think of a better alternative)

>J>I hadn’t noticed that - but I think I probably agree. OK will re-consider, thanks.

>>He would {leave}[abandon] hate;
>>live life; be happy, he...

>J>I think I’ll keep “leave” thanks - abandon suggests a crime to me - one abandons something. Whereas leave suggests letting go of something in a non-aggressive manner. I want him to shed hate in a kind of Zen-like change.

>>Confus{ed}[ion] -

>J> I think that is probably better now. Thanks. I couldn’t use it at first because the following verse started with that word but I appear to have changed it so now ok. Ta.

>>{at a zillion MPH,} (I think this line is un-necessary, the image is there with the word speed in the next line)
>>speed through his brain.

>J> I use “zillion” in every poem - it’s compulsory! You’re now the second person to find that glitches. I’ll think on’t - thanks. I wouldn’t be so annoyed if I thought you were wrong! It's a great word! Whole novels should be written using no other words.... ok. Rant over :)

>>A human bomb explodes.
>>Buildings disintegrate;
>>people are shredded.
>>One man, in several parts, lies there,
>>as do two young soldiers...

(these last two lines could have greater impact, perhaps something like:)
Strewn amid the debris are
a man's severed limbs,
two young soldiers...

>J>I was aiming for more pathos than anger. But I’ll think on’t thank you.

Thanks for the thought provoking read

Thank you Nina. And thanks for all your hard work - much for me to think on here.

Cheers, J.
 
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Guest_Nina_*
post Jun 27 05, 14:14
Post #6





Guest






Hi James

I was editing my reply as you posted, so you may not have seen the suggestion I added for the martyrdom bit.  I should really my answers through properly before posting, but I just plunge in feet first.

My suggestion was:

one last/final  taste/moment of matyrdom

I also slightly changed my suggestion for the last two lines.

Strewn amid the debris -
a man's severed limbs,
two young soldiers...

>N>I also think this is the longest poem of yours that I have read.

It is probably the longest I've written. What a coincidence! :)

lol, well as I haven't read all your poems (actually I should take a look at some of your back catalogue here on MM) I couldn't tell if it was the longest you'd written.

>N>At the end I came away feeling sympathy for the suicide bomber and anger at the police.

Ah! I'm t'other way round. Most interesting.

hmm, maybe I'm a soft touch, but perhaps you painted him too sympathetically and wistfully for me to feel deep anger towards him. Not enough fanaticism or single-mindedness. You also had me believing that he had decided to reject martyrdom and hatred in exchange for love and life. He appeared as shades of grey whereas the police were black and white.

>J> I use “zillion” in every poem - it’s compulsory! You’re now the second person to find that glitches. I’ll think on’t - thanks. I wouldn’t be so annoyed if I thought you were wrong! It's a great word! Whole novels should be written using no other words.... ok. Rant over :)
Now there's a challenge.  

A zillion words in a zillion poems, written over a zillion years, read by zillions of people, in zillions of countries.

(btw if that contravenes MM policy feel free to delete)

Actually it was the MPH that glitched the most, I don't like abbreviations like that in poetry.

Cheers

Nina




 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 27 05, 15:15
Post #7





Guest






Hi Nina,

Thanks for your re-visit.

>N>I was editing my reply as you posted, so you may not have seen the suggestion I added for the martyrdom bit.  I should really my answers through properly before posting, but I just plunge in feet first.

Good on you!

>N>My suggestion was: one last/final  taste/moment of matyrdom. I also slightly changed my suggestion for the last two lines.

Strewn amid the debris -
a man's severed limbs,
two young soldiers...

Thanks Nina, I'll consider that, too.

>N>I also think this is the longest poem of yours that I have read.
>J>It is probably the longest I've written. What a coincidence!

>N>lol, well as I haven't read all your poems (actually I should take a look at some of your back catalogue here on MM) I couldn't tell if it was the longest you'd written.

I wasn't being sarcastic. Just jocular. But they are becoming rather tight now.

"Back catalogue" wow that sounds impressive. Thank you.

>N>At the end I came away feeling sympathy for the suicide bomber and anger at the police.
>J>Ah! I'm t'other way round. Most interesting.

>N>hmm, maybe I'm a soft touch, but perhaps you painted him too sympathetically and wistfully for me to feel deep anger towards him. Not enough fanaticism or single-mindedness.

Thank you - glad I made an impact!

>N>You also had me believing that he had decided to reject martyrdom and hatred in exchange for love and life. He appeared as shades of grey whereas the police were black and white.

Thanks. Maybe he had decided that. I don't know, sorry. If you think he had, then sobeit.

>J> I use “zillion” in every poem - it’s compulsory! You’re now the second person to find that glitches. I’ll think on’t - thanks. I wouldn’t be so annoyed if I thought you were wrong! It's a great word! Whole novels should be written using no other words.... ok. Rant over
>N>Now there's a challenge.  
>N>A zillion words in a zillion poems, written over a zillion years, read by zillions of people, in zillions of countries.
>N>(btw if that contravenes MM policy feel free to delete)

LOL!

>N>Actually it was the MPH that glitched the most, I don't like abbreviations like that in poetry.

OK, I'll look at that (though I don't mind it per se).

Thanks Nina! Very much, J.
 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 27 05, 17:24
Post #8





Guest






Hi,

Version Update: AD to AE posted.

Thanks WMW, Cathy and Nina.

J.
 
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Guest_Nina_*
post Jun 27 05, 23:57
Post #9





Guest






Hi James

The changes work well, especially:

He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last chance
for martyrdom.
Or would he leave hate;
live life; be happy? He...


Now we are much less certain of what is going to do - what he chooses is much more questionable than in your original version when he seemed to have made a decision.

Nina
 
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Guest_Toumai_*
post Jun 28 05, 01:39
Post #10





Guest






Hi James,

I read this when first posted but had no time to comment and now I am re-reading the revision.

I really love this poem; the lyrical refrain to the girl is such a wonderful counterpoint to the agony in his heart as he contemplates his fate and the action that takes it from his ken, and ties the whole poem together beautifully. The whole has a dream-like, wistful, fateful quality that really stayed with me after my first visit.

I am also impressed that such a long 'story' is so well polished at the start.

And the girl with chestnut hair.  --- she is such a wonderful image thru this, shining against the grime, something to admire/worship/love/die for ... and destroy. So many meanings for one unnamed, barely described lass.

He looked within, from without:  --- very clever; shop and himself
soiled shop window.
Its grime captured his attention;
he dreamt elsewhere.   --- I love this stanza: sets up the atmosphere and his state brilliantly

Patterns formed within dirt:
taunting, teasing, traumatising;  --- lovely
testing his focus on the mission...

And the girl with chestnut hair.  --- by this stage I am completely drawn into the narative; where is it going? Fantastic

Cornfields; woods;  --- sounds very Brit (esp. with 'Jack' ) - would 'fields, forests' work (also allit.) ?
sunshine; girls;
sensuous sessions -
all held him.
No Jack, don’t;
you’ll never see them again.

Yet Heaven offered
all pleasures:
sublime, carnal, ethereal -
happiness,
without boundaries...  --- most religions, indeed.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Now was the time to:
light freedom’s torch;
ignite passions;
support the fight.

Abstract patterns
formed faces:
his kindred;
martyrs’ relations;
victims’ families...
all there,
in misery -
human despair.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He determined to stop;
travel abroad -
new identity, new life.

No one would know:
he’d marry,
be quiet, yet
have laughter, children...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

She’d green eyes;
light-chocolate skin
years of hope,
promise...
joyfulness.

He could see himself
in love with love...  --- fantastic

And the girl with chestnut hair.

He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last chance
for martyrdom.
Or would he leave hate;
live life; be happy? He...  --- excellent revision; much more uncertain. I wonder if 'He...' would sit better on a separate line as he decides?

Police! Stop!
You’re surrounded!
Put your hands up!
Slowly...
We will shoot if we have to...

Confused -
glance at window.
Dust shows tortured faces;
children orphaned;
widows made.

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Indecision
panic
fear
hatred -
speed through his brain.

He reaches to check -
explosives are ok.

Tat-a-Tat;
       Tat-a-Tat;
               Tat-a-Tat

He falls.
His hand,
round the rope,
jars...

A human bomb explodes.
Buildings disintegrate;
people are shredded:
one man, in several parts,
between two young soldiers...

And the girl with chestnut hair.

Thanks, James
Fran




 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 28 05, 01:40
Post #11





Guest






Hi Nina,

Glad you like the changes - to which you certainly contributed important parts. Thank you.

>N>Now we are much less certain of what is going to do - what he chooses is much more questionable than in your original version when he seemed to have made a decision.

I'm reet chuffed to hear that, lass - as such was my aim - thank you.

J.
 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jun 28 05, 03:06
Post #12





Guest






Hi Fran,

Thanks for your visit, appreciation and crit.

>F>I read this when first posted but had no time to comment and now I am re-reading the revision.

Dim Probeo. Thanks for coming. One thing you'll be pleased about is I've dropped "zillions" - I know you don't care for that, either. (Does no one?)

>F>I really love this poem; the lyrical refrain to the girl is such a wonderful counterpoint to the agony in his heart as he contemplates his fate and the action that takes it from his ken, and ties the whole poem together beautifully. The whole has a dream-like, wistful, fateful quality that really stayed with me after my first visit.

Wow. Thank you so much. If I had published an anthology I'd put that one the dust jacket - thanks!

>F>I am also impressed that such a long 'story' is so well polished at the start.

Thanks but I did publish version AD - been working on this (on/off) for exactly a month. So nowt overnight.

>F>And the girl with chestnut hair.  --- she is such a wonderful image thru this, shining against the grime, something to admire/worship/love/die for ... and destroy. So many meanings for one unnamed, barely described lass.

Thank you. Yes, I hoped so.

He looked within, from without:  --- very clever; shop and himself
soiled shop window.
Its grime captured his attention;
he dreamt elsewhere.   --- I love this stanza: sets up the atmosphere and his state brilliantly

Thank you!

Patterns formed within dirt:
taunting, teasing, traumatising;  --- lovely
testing his focus on the mission...

Ta.

And the girl with chestnut hair.  --- by this stage I am completely drawn into the narative; where is it going? Fantastic

I'm beaming now. Can I pay you for this?

Cornfields; woods;  --- sounds very Brit (esp. with 'Jack' ) - would 'fields, forests' work (also allit.) ?
sunshine; girls;
sensuous sessions -
all held him.
No Jack, don’t;
you’ll never see them again.

emm. It was meant to be specifically English. I removed "drinking" because that would have eliminated Islamic terrorists. Nevertheless, I didn't want to put the burden all on Middle east Islamics - so I deliberatly (mentally) set it in Israel but put the man's origin in an unexpected place. Having said that, I think "fields" a bit bare. Most real cornfields are in the US / Canada - they grow most maize there but I could change to wheatfields if it sounds better? (I think the Brits use "cornfields" to mean any cerial - barley, rye, oats, maize, wheat - which is what I meant). NB To Brits "maize" is sweetcorn corn and "corn" these days tends to mean anything I think.)

Yet Heaven offered
all pleasures:
sublime, carnal, ethereal -
happiness,
without boundaries...  --- most religions, indeed.

It's why I especially hate religious suicide bombers - they are the nastiest, most selfish people - simply after their own salvation and damn everyone else.

He could see himself
in love with love...  --- fantastic

Thank you, again :)

He fingered the cord;
one last feel of power;
one last chance
for martyrdom.
Or would he leave hate;
live life; be happy? He...  --- excellent revision; much more uncertain. I wonder if 'He...' would sit better on a separate line as he decides?

Thanks - and to Nina who helped with that so much.

The "he" was a prose device of being interrupted, which I employed here. But I see what you mean and will think on't - thanks.

>F>Thanks, James

As usual - thank YOU, Fran.

Very much appreciated.

J.
 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jul 2 05, 01:50
Post #13





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bump
 
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Cleo_Serapis
post Oct 8 05, 13:06
Post #14


Mosaic Master
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Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep



Congrats James on your faery award winning tile! claps.gif

Well done! PartyFavor.gif Balloons.gif

~Cleo :)


·······IPB·······

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Collaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind.

"I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. Kanter

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 information, click here!

"Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.

MM Award Winner
 
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Guest_Nina_*
post Oct 8 05, 13:33
Post #15





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Hi J

Congratulations on your Faery Award for this piece.  Thinking of the London Bombings in July just a week or so after you posted this, it is a scarily almost prophetic poem.  

Well done

Nina
 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Oct 8 05, 14:24
Post #16





Guest






Hi,

Thank you Fran and Nina for your kind nominations. Thank you Lori also.

I greatly appreciate it all.

Yes, Nina, you're right - horridly so.

J.
 
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Cleo_Serapis
post Jan 1 06, 08:11
Post #17


Mosaic Master
Group Icon

Group: Administrator
Posts: 18,892
Joined: 1-August 03
From: Massachusetts
Member No.: 2
Real Name: Lori Kanter
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:Imhotep



Congrats James on your Mod Choice award winning tile! claps.gif

Well done! PartyFavor.gif Balloons.gif

~Cleo :)


·······IPB·······

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." ~ J.R.R Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Collaboration feeds innovation. In the spirit of workshopping, please revisit those threads you've critiqued to see if the author has incorporated your ideas, or requests further feedback from you. In addition, reciprocate with those who've responded to you in kind.

"I believe it is the act of remembrance, long after our bones have turned to dust, to be the true essence of an afterlife." ~ Lorraine M. Kanter

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 information, click here!

"Worry looks around, Sorry looks back, Faith looks up." ~ Early detection can save your life.

MM Award Winner
 
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Guest_Cathy_*
post Jan 1 06, 08:45
Post #18





Guest






Two awards on one poem ... Fantabulous!!!

Congratulations James!  Well deserved for sure.   grinning.gif

Cathy
 
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Guest_Nina_*
post Jan 1 06, 09:21
Post #19





Guest






Hi J

Congratulations on winning the moderator choice for this thought provoking poem.

Very well done indeed.

Nina
 
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Guest_Jox_*
post Jan 1 06, 09:56
Post #20





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Lori, Cathy, Nina,

Thank you all very much indeed.

I used to have a vague awareness of where awards were coming from but this has taken me completely by surprise. Thanks to whoever nominated me and to everyone (I shall have to find out what's happening! - new year resolution?). Very much appreciated.

J.
 
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