Thanks Daniel and Richard for coming by to read and comment on the poem.

Unfortunately, due to the lack of traffic and responses (especially in the fixed form section) I found it necessary to move on to another poetry board. In the new board I submitted this poem for review.

Sorry to officially say then, that I won't be commenting or posting poems in MM. I like to stay with one board at a time.

I enjoyed my brief time in MM, but in the end, it wasn't a good fit.

Luce

Syl,

Just concentrate on the revision since it is this revision that I plan to stay on.

Ignore the original.

I'd delete the original, if I could, but posters have already posted comments on it.

Luce

Revision up. Modified some strong prose sounding lines. But, I can't eliminate them all since I need some to move the poem along.

Luce

Ha!! You got me fooled all the way. A gecko. You were talking about a gecko. Killer ending.

Some minor, nits:

The Sparrows Sing

I was smitten by your freckled face
and slender form, but not fooled
by your innocent appearance.
I recognised a feisty female lurked
unafraid to fight the girls
from her territory

Maybe "you" instead of "her". since the N is addressing the subject directly in the poem.
You need a period after "territory".

You were a flirt, soon loosing
virginity to become a mother.
Pursued by two suitors;
one was your rivals son,
nick-named Toy Boy.

I think you mean "losing" not "loosing".
Sounds better saying "your" virginity as oppose to just "virginity".
Saying your rival's son sounds wrong since your suitors are not your rivals. Maybe "Pursued by two suitors;
a father and son/the junior nick-named "Toy Boy".

Life's tree is now uprooted - yet
your family foliage is a profusion
of blooms. Toy Boy has moved
into your vacant flat, while
you probably romp with your
first love (his father)
in paradise.

Don't quite get "your family foliage is a profusion of blooms.".
I'd delete "probably".

Shrouded in tissue paper,
your frail body is gently laid
in a cardboard coffin.
Beneath the mock orange tree,
I dug deep, where worms and woodlice
prepared soil to receive you.
Lowering the box into earth
a duet of sparrows sing
their lament for you, Lizzie Lulu,
my first Leopard Gecko.

I'd put "box" instead of coffin". Sounds stronger than "coffin" with "cardboard" and "box" can be an internal rhyme with "mock". Again, great ending.

Luce

Thanks Syl, Eisa for dropping by and reading this prose poem. Thanks Joe for coming by a second time.
I'm glad you like the poem and left some feedback.

Joe - Glad you like this version. As you said, it has more humanity to it. After writing the first version, I wasn't comfortable with it. It felt like a mean joke. Therefore, I didn't feel it was worth saving. That seldom happens with me but it happens. Besides, I never feel that what I write is set in concrete - never to be changed - and so it is usually easy for me to accept changes or to let it go. And yes, thanks for picking up those grammatical errors. Will change.

Syl & Eisa - The danger of putting a poem in a prose format is that people are conditioned to see it as prose first. That goes double if it has narrative elements to it. I'm sure if I had put it in the stanza format, you would not have thought of it as more prose than poetry. The imagery, slant rhyme, similes, alty's are all there in the poem besides the deliberate repetition of certain words like "there" "all", "still", for rhythm.

However, you've given me an idea. I think I'll break it up in stanzas just to catch any strong prose like lines. But then I'm going to put it back again in prose format.

I like to try out new forms. Writing in one style gets boring. Therefore, I'll be working revising this poem in this form.

Luce

Not quite sure what is going on here. Sounds like a young woman got raped or seduced by a gangster type character. The one button missing and smelling like sandalwood (used a lot in men's cologne) point to that scenario. Also, there is the smile she uses in most occasions. It infers that she uses her smile to escape from uncomfortable situations. However, it may have failed her this time.

Ahmmm. I think you mean "be" instead of "been".

Not sure if a "germ of an idea" is revenge.



Luce

Not the Romantics. They seemed to have used my/mine appropriately by then. For example:

I have no name:
I am but two days old.”
What shall I call thee?
“I happy am,
Joy is my name.”
Sweet joy befall thee!

William Blake

A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.

William Wordsworth

In Shakespearean times and older eras yes. They used "mine" as a possessive adjective. They, really meaning Shakespeare in this case, also wrote in double negatives and spelled words like olde for old.

Do we still do these things? No, unless it is being done on purpose to reflect an era.

This poem is written in modern English. Therefore, using "mine" instead of "my" in the line is incorrect in addition to being out of place and archaic. If she was using a more ancient voice, than it would be okay.

I know Syl said she used "mine" to balance out the line. To her the line sound more smoothly using "mine".

Ironically, using "mine" made the line stand out like a sore thumb to me because it didn't sound balance.

Folks, I am by no means a grammar queen. But, this mistake is an obvious one. It's a simple correction with little negative impact on the line.


Luce

Thanks Joe and Anthony for reading this mess of a poem.

Joe - From your comments I failed in the execution and intent. It was suppose to keep you off balance - like poor Ned" but in a good way, in an Abbott & Costello ""Whose on First" way.

You're right when you say the intent is not clear. Is it comedic, tragic? What? In addition, the "pee" line may be too much for readers and put them off.

Anthony - Thanks for the gentle and understanding crit. You definitely got the mixed intent but I think you're a lot more patient, forgiving and a deeper reader than most readers would be.

Okay. I'm scraping this version completely. It's something I seldom do but it happens. It's not worth the effort to save. It's a joke gone "south". I am posting a totally new version.

Don't know why but sometimes I post a poem and then find that's not what I really wanted to say in the first place. It's like peeling an onion sometimes. I talk about it superficially to avoid the deeper things I wanted to say.

So here comes the new version.

Luce

Syl.

it's never fun killing anything. Yet, it's a part of life.

If I can, I give the varmints a way out first. But, sometimes it's not possible.

PS - Good suggestion for eliminating one of the "the's". I'll incorporate that change.
I will just edit that extra "the" out. In this case, I'm not posting or marking it as a revision because the change is minor.

"My" is a possessive adjective and "mine" is a possessive pronoun. They are not quite the same. You use "my" when there is a noun following it as in, "This is my dog". In this case "dog" is following "my".

You use "mine" when the noun is first or already said "This dog is mine" / "Your dog is bad. Mine is good".

Did check some very ancient poems and even they used "mine" appropriately. .

BTW, you used "my" correctly further down the poem.

The Dogs - Revision II

Billy got four large dogs. Hard to believe but there you are or rather there they were.
All hair and muscle with goliath paws jumping like baby goats in the air. All over the lawn
and all over Billy they were and him beaming, as if he just became King of England.
He was never rich and none too smart, still living in the house after his ma died,
still working at the Texaco.

Who knows when he got them? Who really cares? His neighbors would rather shake
their heads in disapproval and point to the growing brown spots on his lawn. Yes,
he was known to feed a stray or two or three but his ma would put a spot to that foolishness
and call the county for pickup.

Now in the cool of the evening I see Billy playing with his dogs. His grease creased hand throwing
a ball, first to one and then to the other, each dog receiving his bit of unyielding acceptance.
The dogs running, jumping, jostling each other and Billy, till they knock him down on the grass. And there he stays laughing, like a child playing in the sunlight, his clothes and face full of hair, wet licks… and love.

The Dogs - Revision

Billy got four large dogs. Hard to believe but there you are or rather there they were. The dogs, just hair and muscle with goliath paws, jumping like baby goats. They were all over the lawn and all over Billy and him beaming as if he just inherited England. He was never smart and none to rich, still living in the house after his ma died, still working at the gas station.

Nobody knows when he got them. He’s not saying, as if his neighbors would stoop to listen. They’d rather nod their heads in disapproval, say tsk, tsk, all served with their morning muffin. Yes, he was known to feed a dog or two or three. But his ma would put a stop to it, called the county for pickup.

Now in the cool of the evening I see Billy playing with his dogs. His grease creased hand throwing the ball, first to one and then to another, each dog getting his share of undying acceptance. The dogs running, jumping, jostling each other and Billy, till they knock him down on the grass. And there he stays laughing, like a child playing in the sunlight, his clothes and face full of hair, wet licks… and love.

Luce

P.S. This is not a strict prose poem but a very loose one. It's unmetered and the syllabic count is not fixed. This is why I posted the poem in the FV section.

Overheard at Denny's Bar - Original

Billy got four large dogs.

What? Noooo. You don’t say.

I do say. Billy got four dogs.

But he’s not working. What’s he thinking?

Pinky.

What?

Pinky. That was her name.

Is that one of the dogs?

Hell no! There ain’t no fog.
She died in 83’.

Lee, your hearing aid conked out again? Can you hear me?
And who the hell is Pinky?

You know the sea has never appealed to me Ned.
it always smelled like pee.

Lee, I think it's time to get some eats
You’re in some sort of freakin bog.

You know dogs have always liked me.
and I, in turn, like them. I had three.
And oh! Did you know?

Billy got four large dogs.


Luce

Nice one Syl.

Not much to crit here. I do agree with Eisa's nits though. However, I would like to add one more.

I think you mean "my" not "mine".

Luce

Height of disco era was around the mid 70's. We're off by a few years. But then, this is a church dance. They would have old and new together.

Heck! I've gone to dances lately where they still churn out Motown and people are trying to do "The Bump". OMG!

Not so much disco - mainly because the dances were more complicated then. All that twirling - use to make me dizzy.

Luce

Good start. Reads a tab better. You may want to change this line though in the next round:

rails brakes shrieks to rail brakes shriek. Rail describes the type of brake.

Luce

Revision up.

Luce

Anthony, Eisa & Maureen,

Thanks for reading and providing feedback on the poem. I'm glad you all liked it.

Anthony - I like how you described the turn in the poem "contemplative to full metal jacket".

Eisa - I have an idea to eliminate one of the "the's in the first stanza. I'll also give a "deep think" about your other suggestions.

Maureen - Hhhhmmmm. I thought saying "hidden in the grass" would be enough to suggest that I wasn't talking about horses anymore. But, based on your comment, I think I need to further separate the image of the horses and the creatures in the grass. Thanks for that observation and suggestion.

I'll post a revision in a few days. I don't want to rush the revision. I always seem to regret it when I do a quick revision.

Luce

Maureen

Saw that you fixed that line with the "is". Line sounds better. However, you didn't fix the its/it's error.


Luce

Thanks Maureen. I'm glad you liked it.

If you want to know how to do one, go to the Karnak Crossing forum. It's basically a syllabic form but you can increase the difficulty by adding meter and rhyme, if you wish.

I like this a lot Anthony. I like the tone and the N's matter of fact semi analysis of his supposed failure in life, as compared to others. Yet, he seems to feel that all this is secondary to his real desired career - that of poet. He still has hope that he could still be a "contender". BTW, I really like "The Waterfront" movie reference. It fits.

The Squatters (Revision)

In the pale of day
horses pace in the meadow.
Their combed tails tossing
nervous energy to the wind.

Half hidden in the grass
the low hum of smaller lives
play out.

But all grasp for a foothold
in the twilight or a place
among the violets.

A tribe of mice invade the shed,
set up squatter’s rights with their nests
of soft pink young.

Who am I to evict them
from the warmth of the bucket?
Who appointed me the Osiris of mice?

I take the mousetraps down from the shelf.

Cringing, I set up the traps
but still strive for the perfection of death:
peanut butter for the guys,
a bit of lint for the ladies,
add one wiggly nose then

SNAP!

The hidden serial killer inside me
bleeding through.


The Squatters - Original


In the pale of the day
the horses pace in the meadow,
combed tails tossing
nervous energy to the wind.

The low hum of life
surrounds them, hidden
in the grass.

Some run, others crawl
but all grasp for a foothold
in the twilight and a place
among the violets.

A tribe of mice invade the shed,
set up squatter’s rights with their nests
filled with soft pink young.

Who am I to evict them
from the warmth of the bucket?
Who appointed me the Osiris of mice?
I take the mousetraps down from the shelf.

Cringing, I set up the traps
but still strive for the perfection of death:
peanut butter for the guys,
a bit of lint for the ladies,
add one wiggly nose, then
SNAP!

It’s the hidden serial killer inside me
bleeding out.

Luce

Notes:

Poem was from the 10 word challenge in Acropolis. Changed some words (which is allowed) if posting in a critique forum.

Preferred trap bait: peanut butter – mainly catches males who are hunting for food, a bit of lint or cotton attracts females (pregnant or not). They are usually searching for materials for their nests. Of course what breaks the cycle is killing the female mice.

Still, headlights are more commonly used for cars only. It's more precise.

Do what you will Syl. You usually do. Oh! No need to come back to explain. I don't need an explanation.

It's TOT.

It's sufficient that you thanked me for the crit and saw the suggestions.


Luce

Good.

In the end, it's what advances the poem in the direction you wish that matters.


Luce

Eisa - You're not alone in your interpretation of the last line. I also thought that the N was screaming in relief that it wasn't a loved one.

Clearly that has to be changed if that wasn't the poet's intent. However, the poet can also let it be interpreted in more than one way (as you mentioned above). In this case, either ending fits.

As far as punctuation goes, this method works if the lines are constructed well. If the lines are done that it naturally makes the reader pause or stop where the poet wants the reader to pause or stop, then the method works for the poem and not against it.

Luce

Okay.

I don't know if just having a rhyme scheme is enough for the poem to be in the form forum. However, it's up to the moderators to make that call.

Mods - Is it okay? Would like to know for sure, for future reference. If it isn't okay, then this poem should be transferred to the Seren forum. Considering the minimal activity in the form forum of late, this may be a good thing.

Yet, I do see an alternate rhyme pattern plus a repeating refrain even though the refrain is not consistent through out the poem. So I'm wondering if both elements (refrain and rhyme scheme) are enough for it to remain in the form forum.

Beyond the question of where this belongs, this is a cool poem. I like the repeating refrains in the beginning of the poem and the message. I just wish the refrains and lines were more consistent for rhyme and rhythm sake. See below for more details:

For those who listen the world has music,

The lines with the "For those who"..refrains have a nice rhythm to it. It also keeps the syllable count consistent from 9 to 10 syllables, with a few exceptions.

However, I'd put a period instead of a comma after each line with this refrain.

for those who listen the world has song.

I'd choose another sense. You've covered hearing already. Again, make the line with the refrain a full sentence with a period at the end.

For those who listen the world will tell you
whenever its hurting and what is wrong.

I like these lines. I also like how it goes from a one line refrain to a two line one. It keeps it from becoming monotonous and keeps the poem moving. You should think about maintaining this pattern throughout the poem.

I'd also replace "listen" with "care" to change the focus from a passive act "listen" to something more active "care".

I think you mean "it's" not its.

For those who listen the Mother calls you,
she shares her bounty, she shares her joy
just open your eyes and see her glory,
embrace her substance with your employ.
For those who care the whole world around you is
a mere speck in the oceans of space,

Again, you should look into using the refrains in a definite pattern and not inconsistently. 1 line/1 line/2 lines. The above lines can be reformatted for that use. As it stands, it just sounds way off especially this line ..."the whole world around you is".

there are other planets and other systems
far, far away and not in our face.
Should we presume that they have no people,
should we presume we’re the only ones
that inhabit a planet or is that just arrogance?
Long before our lifetime - life had begun.

The turn from our world to other planets is distracting and decreases the power of the message from the lines above.

There is enough arrogance involving our planet to make this poem and thousands more. We are so arrogant of other species that we have literally wiped out hundreds of thousands of them and have endangered millions more which includes ourselves.

Luce

What form is this Maureen? I don't recognize it.

Luce