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Passions in Poetry

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moonbeam
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50 posted 03-08-2009 08:36 AM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Heh heh Grinch - I am quite certain she'll take it as a compliment ... er, I think

umm I hope,

Don't you think?

No?

Yes, surely

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51 posted 03-08-2009 08:47 AM       View Profile for Grinch   Email Grinch   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Grinch


Of course she will, but where do you want the flowers sent if she doesn’t?

moonbeam
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52 posted 03-08-2009 09:37 AM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Lol - You, are very bad , but you don't scare me ... much.
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53 posted 03-08-2009 11:30 AM       View Profile for daddysgurlxx5xx   Email daddysgurlxx5xx   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for daddysgurlxx5xx

hyz this was a really good poem...in matter of fact it was exellent... i would love to read more of your poems... great job
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54 posted 03-08-2009 08:25 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

It doesn't involve sex or suicide or anything. Just a lot of details.

Wow, her poetry doesn't bore me like most poems I read now do. I like how she writes, but it is a little crazy lol
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55 posted 03-09-2009 05:36 AM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Well details are what we are looking for M. Details are good.

If you are uncomfortable about posting them here you can e-mail me if you want.

Glad you found Karen's stuff interesting - boring is certainly what it is not! lol
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56 posted 03-09-2009 08:24 AM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

I will most likely e-mail them to you. It will be another day or so before I can get around to it.

I remember you saying one time that after an amount of time some poems can be boring to read because they are written in a boring way about a common topic. I'm finding that true in a lot of cases. It's getting rather depressing.
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57 posted 03-09-2009 11:48 AM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Get used to it Michaela there's a lot of absolute rubbish out there!  And look on the positive side: if you are starting to recognise it as rubbish then it means you are on the way to avoiding it!

You'd do well to find some contemporary published poets who you like and read them too.

No hurry - take your time.

M
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58 posted 03-10-2009 09:56 AM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

Ok, I've been working on this and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm doing it exactly as you want it or not. I'm probably just being a worry-wart, but let me check just in case.

So I need to write it in prose sort of like a story and just describe the seens using concrete details and no feelings? That's what I've been doing so far.
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59 posted 03-10-2009 01:53 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

I decided to go ahead and post this on here. It was easier and I have nothing to hide anyways. I do hope this is what you were wanting me to come up with.

As the sun broke the purple horizon, I skittered outside with Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.  I was dressed in my most adored summer attire, a long white skirt that fluttered around my ankles in the light cooling breeze, and a lace tank the color of ripened strawberries.  Dawn was shading the sky with pastels while I skipped past the crooked dog wood, book in hand, to my knotted climbing tree beside the rushing brook.

When I reached my reading retreat, I looked towards the sky at the wings stretched from the trunk of the oak. Then, I glanced at the sun coming up from behind the hills. I picked out a limb with a graceful view of the dancing colors that floated across the sky.  Water vapors had not yet condensed; therefore, the floor of heaven was a spectacular sight.

I pulled the satin ribbon I used to mark my place out of my book and used it to tie my silky brunette hair into a elegant bunch on the top of my head. I gripped the rough bark of the lowest branch and threw myself upon it. Catching balance so as not to topple onto the ground, I grabbed the next available limb and my muscles flexed underneath my glowing pale skin. After climbing up two other branches, I landed on the limb I aspired to read on.

The sun finally finished its climb as well. Its light radiated above the hills, streams, and roads. Before opening my book, I took in my surroundings. The clean smell of the rural south blew through the new green leafs. I let my hair loose to fly around my face. The scent of my shampoo mixed with that of grass, manure, and wild flowers. To me, that aroma is equivalent to that of fresh fruit. The pictures my brain received are immaculate. The basis on which God set his plan, was rolled out beneath my eyes.  I inhaled the warm air that provides me with life. I waited a for a full measure of the little bird’s “twa-eet, twa-eet” to exhale.

At last, I pulled the cover away from the pages and began to delve into the lives of the March girls. My attention to the book was interrupted after reading only a few lines. The minnows playing tag in the brook drew my eyes to their game. I smiled as they tossed back and forth away from each other. As one swam further away from me I hopped onto a lower branch to continue watching the gaiety. My skirt snagged on a twig in an attempt to conquer the perfect sceneries effect. The only thing it accomplished was a short giggle from my sweet pea lips.

As the brook’s steady trickle made my entertainment  float away, I jumped from amidst the leafs onto the matted green hairs of the earth. That was to be the last day I spent near my oak, my retreat, my strong loyal friend. About two weeks after that dazzling day, it erupted in flames during a forest fire that turned the peaceful woods into a field of giant, heated, deadly, orange flowers.                    

[This message has been edited by GothicCherry (03-10-2009 02:30 PM).]

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60 posted 03-10-2009 06:07 PM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Michaela

Sorry I didn't come back to you on your question earlier, but you did just fine anyway.  Yes, this a the start of a prose plan for a poem.  We don't know what the poem might be yet - but that doesn't matter!

I commend you on the effort you have put into this, and thank you for doing so.  I think we are now moving in the right direction.

What you have done here is to begin to move towards an image based way of describing not only what you see, but your own feelings too.

If you can maintain this approach and make it a natural part of your writing you will start to elevate your poetry and prose beyond the ordinary.

I'm going to take a while now to go through what you've written in detail, trying to point out what I think is good material and maybe areas that could have been developed a little more:

As the sun broke the purple horizon, I skittered outside with Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.

>>> When you are starting out writing seriously, and you want to aim for originality (which you do) I think it helps to frequently ask yourself the question have I heard this before.  If the answer is "yes", it doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't use it, but you should have a good reason for so doing, and moreover if you can add to it or vary it a little that is good too.

>>>I mention this because of your very first opening words "as the sun broke the purple horizon".  I want you think about that phrase.  It's VERY familiar isn't it?  The sun is always sinking to the horizon or breaking the horizon.  There's nothing wrong really in using it, but even so can you add to it?  You've told us the horizon is purple - but horizons are always multi coloured in the romantic novels.  Let's hear about YOUR horizon.  I can't see it.  Is it broken with trees, mountainous, flat, jagged with city buildings, pierced with a TV mast, salty with an estuary, criss-crossed by roads and car headlights, dense with flying duck, slashed by a jet vapour trail, what is ON your horizon?  

>>>"skittered" is a great verb, well done.  More of those please.  And the reference to Little Women is good too, portraying the type of girl we are seeing.  A young girl skittering, but a girl who has dreams and loves novels.  See what you did there?  Instead of TELLING; "I was a young girl with high spirits, romantic and literary" you SHOWED - she skitters and she reads Little Women.  You might have added a little more too, like how did you HOLD the book?  Instead of the rather weak "with" you might have replaced it with something like: " I skittered outside clasping Little Women" and still more " I skittered into the dew clasping Little Women to my chest, it's chafed leather spine pressing the mother of pearl buttons of my ..."  - ok, I'm getting carried away now.  But of course in poetry and prose it's quite permissible, and indeed often essential, to deviate from actual fact so that the story is a truthful reflection of your feelings or what you want to say.

I was dressed in my most adored summer attire, a long white skirt that fluttered around my ankles in the light cooling breeze, and a lace tank the color of ripened strawberries.  Dawn was shading the sky with pastels while I skipped past the crooked dog wood, book in hand, to my knotted climbing tree beside the rushing brook.

>>>Oops - careful here you are slipping into TELLING again.  Don't TELL us that it is your most adored summer attire, SHOW us.

>>>And indeed you HAVE shown us.  You really didn't need to say "my most adored summer attire".  Just the loving way you told us that it was "a long white skirt that fluttered around my ankles in the light cooling breeze, and a lace tank the color of ripened strawberries." was quite enough to let your readers know that it was a special skirt.  "Fluttered" was good, as was "the color of ripened strawberries".

>>> "shading the sky with pastels" - "skipped past the crooked dog wood" - "knotted climbing tree" all very good images - good work, more of the same please.  "beside the rushing brook" - now tell me truthfully Michaela, how often have you heard a brook described as "rushing"!?  Let's strain our brain cells for something more original like: "where the brook tips its hurry over the stones" - and I'm sure you can do better my feeble effort if you try (we'll do some exercises on this soon).

When I reached my reading retreat, I looked towards the sky at the wings stretched from the trunk of the oak. Then, I glanced at the sun coming up from behind the hills. I picked out a limb with a graceful view of the dancing colors that floated across the sky.  Water vapors had not yet condensed; therefore, the floor of heaven was a spectacular sight.

>>>This section is quite weak.  This: "When I reached my reading retreat, I looked towards the sky" simply TELLS us what you did.  Not good.  You didn't have to do that.  You could have just suddenly been in your reading retreat.  Moreover you didn't have to say you looked at the sky.  You could have SHOWN us you were looking at the sky.  So instead we have something like: "My reading retreat nestled against the bole where a bough had fractured long ago, in the canopy above wings stretched from the trunk of the oak".

>>> "dancing colors that floated across the sky" - again this is suffering from phrases that are overused.  "Dancing and floated" are probably best used sparingly or you start to sound like you are trying too hard to be poetic.  

>>>And "floor of heaven" humm.  Well full marks for trying to come up with something original.  "Heaven" alone would have been fairly mundane.  The "floor" of heaven certainly adds interest.  Again though you TELL us that it's a "spectacular sight" - I don't want to be TOLD I want to be SHOWN.  Show me how it's spectacular.  "And the floor of heaven simmered like a skillet full of humming birds" or "shimmered" if you prefer!  Ok, I know it's a daring image, but at least it IS an image and an INTERESTING one.  I have SHOWN something that's spectacular you can suddenly SEE what I'm seeing.  Just by telling me it's spectacular you tell me nearly nothing, I need to know HOW it is spectacular.  Sorry to go on ramming this point home, but if you remember nothing else, this is important, remember it please.

I pulled the satin ribbon I used to mark my place out of my book and used it to tie my silky brunette hair into a elegant bunch on the top of my head. I gripped the rough bark of the lowest branch and threw myself upon it. Catching balance so as not to topple onto the ground, I grabbed the next available limb and my muscles flexed underneath my glowing pale skin. After climbing up two other branches, I landed on the limb I aspired to read on.

The sun finally finished its climb as well. Its light radiated above the hills, streams, and roads. Before opening my book, I took in my surroundings.

>>>Ok, all of that was pretty much more telling.  There are some strong active verbs "gripped" "grabbed" "threw", but most of the description is fairly mundane "satin ribbon", "silky brunette" "muscles flexing".  Pretty tame stuff Michaela.  It is hard because as soon as you start to focus on yourself and your own body this sort of thing - cliches and superlatives tends to happen.  It's probably best to keep your senses focussed outwards at what you see feel smell touch etc around you.  Don't worry, your readers will be able to SEE you, the speaker, through what you see, feel, hear etc.

The clean smell of the rural south blew through the new green leafs. I let my hair loose to fly around my face. The scent of my shampoo mixed with that of grass, manure, and wild flowers. To me, that aroma is equivalent to that of fresh fruit. The pictures my brain received are immaculate. The basis on which God set his plan, was rolled out beneath my eyes.  I inhaled the warm air that provides me with life. I waited a for a full measure of the little bird's "twa-eet, twa-eet" to exhale.

>>>The first half of this up to fresh fruit was great.  After that it was awful!  The first half you just gave us straightforward well written images and description: the smell of the rural south, the new green leaves, you hair flying, the shampoo mixing with the rural scents, and the personal detail about the fresh fruit.  Good stuff Michaela ... if only you then didn't go and try and sound too poetic in the second half.  

>>>  "The pictures my brain received are immaculate"  - what on earth!  What pictures?  Immaculate!?  Remember what you learned about abstract nouns and unnecessary or vague adjectives - what the heck is an "immaculate picture"?  And then you get into discussing God's plan!  What has that got to do with providing specific detailed images which is what this exercise is about?

At last, I pulled the cover away from the pages and began to delve into the lives of the March girls. My attention to the book was interrupted after reading only a few lines. The minnows playing tag in the brook drew my eyes to their game. I smiled as they tossed back and forth away from each other. As one swam further away from me I hopped onto a lower branch to continue watching the gaiety. My skirt snagged on a twig in an attempt to conquer the perfect sceneries effect. The only thing it accomplished was a short giggle from my sweet pea lips.

>>>Well, when you stop TELLING us what you are doing this gets quite good.  You could condense it down to:

"minnows playing tag in the brook"  - very good indeed
"they tossed back and forth away from each other" - nice and energetic
"I hopped onto a lower branch"
"My skirt snagged on a twig"
"short giggle from my sweet pea lips" - good description, good metaphor

>>>Really that's all you need at this stage, just short descriptive phrases like that Michaela.  The rest of that paragraph is basically just filler, TELLING us what you are doing; that's what we don't want.

>>>Look at it this way:

Imagine you are a camera.  All you do as a camera is record images and events (and smells and sensations and noises).  What you do NOT do is give a running commentary as you are recording the images.  You do NOT say, "ok I am now panning left to take a photo of a lion, I am turning down the f stop and focussing, now a bit of zoom, then left pan a bit, humm maybe a change of lens, or possibly a bit more uv filter etc etc.  You as the camera just get on and record the exciting image you don't do all the boring telling.

>>> Now Michaela you need to concentrate on just taking the pictures and recording the images events smells sensations noises! BE THE CAMERA

As the brook's steady trickle made my entertainment  float away, I jumped from amidst the leafs onto the matted green hairs of the earth. That was to be the last day I spent near my oak, my retreat, my strong loyal friend. About two weeks after that dazzling day, it erupted in flames during a forest fire that turned the peaceful woods into a field of giant, heated, deadly, orange flowers.

>>>Again this is a mix of good images and strong verbs with some unnecessary telling.

I hope you won't mind me talking to you in a forthright way, please don't be downhearted by ANY of my remarks - they are all made to try and help you improve.  

Most of all, you can be proud of what you have just done.  It's not easy and requires real effort to come up with new fresh language to describe what we see feel hear and touch and you have made a great start.

We're going to come back to this in a day or two and condense the whole thing down into short little lines  like I did here:

"minnows playing tag in the brook"  
"they tossed back and forth away from each other"
"I hopped onto a lower branch"
"My skirt snagged on a twig"
"short giggle from my sweet pea lips"

so we get snapshots like from a camera.

But before we do that we are going to try another exercise to really get the creative part of you fizzing (hopefully then when you come back to this you will come up with even more good specific detail).

I'm kind of tired now, lol, so I'll post the new exercise tomorrow if that's ok.  That's if you want to continue of course.  If you are getting bored or tired or too busy just let me know   .  And we mustn't lose sight of the goal at the end of all this which is to write a really good poem using extended metaphor and imagery.  

In the meantime if you have time, please could you read over what I've said up above a few times, so that you really really understand what I'm saying.  And as always, any questions, just ask away.

M

PS Apologies for any typos, no time to check it over.
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61 posted 03-10-2009 06:46 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

No worries I'm not downhearted. Really I'm quite the opposite. I am glad you can come straight out and tell me the good and the bad (just please always have a little good lol.) I can't stand for people to lie to me.

Of course I want more help and exercises as long as you are willing to give them. Tomorrow is fine. I need time to read over this anyways. Ugh, everything I write always makes myself sick after checking it with you lol but that's good cause then I can fix it.
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62 posted 03-11-2009 04:51 AM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Morning Michaela

Before going back to your snapshots from your tree retreat we are going to try and get you to generate some really hot new language.  To help you there are some prompts below.  Remember, try to steer clear of phrases and ways of describing things that you've heard before countless times even if this means coming up with unlikely and zany new connections.  Go for the weird and outlandish rather than the safe and predictable!

All the exercises below are taken directly from Kowit's "In the Palm of your Hand"

Effective similes

Create striking and apt comparisons.  Fill in the blanks below.  Your solution may be a single word or a lengthier description.

In his rage my father would bang on the wall like a   ...............

Among her new in-laws the young wife was nervous as ...............

I paced the room restless as a ................

Like a ............... , his smile suddenly collapsed.

It was the old sycamore in the the front yard, swaying like a ...............


Evocative images

Strong descriptive language please Michaela.

I loved ........... of the wash on the line in the summer morning.

I was afraid of his ..........., his drunken, ungainly walk.

I will not forget the ............ of your lips, your skin's ........... , or the ............ of your eyes.

She wished to draw me deeper into the ............ of her life.


Linguistic invention

In three or four sentences that sparkle with linguistic invention and originality, describe:

A rundown house

An old table, desk, bicycle, car or truck (any one or all of them)

A particular potted plant

Someone working in a kitchen or garden (run a movie of them in your head before putting pen to paper)

A small incident seen in the street or store (again run that movie in your head, lots of minute detail please)

Make your descriptions come alive using precise, charged language.  Describe each item accurately, vividly and engagingly.

Sometimes it  takes a lot of effort to come up with inventive new descriptions and phrases, sometimes they pop into your head apparently from nowhere.  One way I've gotten some of my best poetry lines is to let my mind turn odd words and phrases around playing with them randomly in that half awake half asleep state that you can sometimes be in just before you full wake up in the morning.  On the other hand if you're one of those people who leaps out of bed wide awake in an instant, then that's not going to work!

Good luck.
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63 posted 03-11-2009 05:15 AM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

One last thing.  Before you start the exercises you might like to read this poem:

http://www.poetryarchive.org/poetryarchive/singlePoem.do?poemId=1541

It's notable for its wealth of inventive metaphor and simile.  Don't you think it's brilliant the way he portrays cheap kisses as lipstick wounds, and small diagonal red doves.  

How great is the image of eating candy floss as "sweet fog on a stick".

A black eye - "an eye loaded with thunder" - wow!

And many many more.

Read it Michaela and feel inspired and excited to come up with your own new creative images.  For that is what poetry is about ... being CREATIVE

Now go for it!    
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64 posted 03-11-2009 01:53 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

I hope you don't mind me posting each of these seperately.

Effective similes

In his rage my father would bang on the wall like a housewife breaking ice on the counter.

Among her new in-laws the young wife was nervous as a girl giving up her chastity. (not sure on sp.)

I paced the room restless as a fly buzzing in  a window screen.

Like a pencils breaking tip, his smile suddenly collapsed.

It was the old sycamore in the front yard, swaying like a loose thread on a button of an elderly woman’s shabby paisley blouse.
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65 posted 03-11-2009 02:28 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

Evocative images

I loved the tender bend and the clean smelling whiff of the wash on the line in the summer morning.

I was afraid of his ..........., his drunken, ungainly walk. (I didn’t quite understand this line so I left it blank)

I will not forget the slightly distressed pucker of your lips, your skin's scarred texture , or the shallow gray lines nestling in the blue puddles of your eyes.

She wished to draw me deeper into the chaos being constructed during the molding of her life.

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66 posted 03-11-2009 03:39 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry


Linguistic invention

A rundown house

The tinkling of light bounces off glass spikes piled upon the floor onto the staircase where more crystal-like puzzle pieces cause hazard for bare toes. Broken boards encase the remnants of memories that crowd corners in the form of ripped photographs, worn-out toys, and quilted blankets. The European style hinged entrance releases a rasping screech into the filthy air when pushed by the pristine winds.        


(Table)

Insects inhabit the deep knots that engrave the table’s ancient wood. The once strong face, the top of the table, splinters into miniscule bits. Missing a leg, its once flawless posture creases into a ledge that sends all clothes avalanching into the dining-room floor.

A particular potted plant

A weak stalk appears from a  circular mound of earth that is held in a thin, floral print shell. Plain leaves frown from the flimsy structure. The frown is discolored with dehydration. Petals lacking care fall from the fragile stem.    


I will have to finish this exercise later. My sister wishes to use the computer.
I hope what I have is ok.
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67 posted 03-11-2009 06:16 PM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Michaela

In a bit of a hurry here but:

The first section very good.  You had some good similies and they seemed fresh to me.

The second section.

"I loved the tender bend and the clean smelling whiff of the wash on the line in the summer morning."

This is a bit weak because "tender bend" and "clean smelling whiff" are vague.  It's difficult to envisage a tender bend and clean smelling is kinda neutral.  You need to ground your description in something specific - instead of clean smelling for instance you could have "smelled like a December Atlantic breeze" - trying an be more specific like you were in this:

"I will not forget the slightly distressed pucker of your lips, your skin's scarred texture , or the shallow gray lines nestling in the blue puddles of your eyes."

This was GREAT - exactly what we want! especially the "shallow gray lines nestling in the blue puddles"  - well done.

"She wished to draw me deeper into the chaos being constructed during the molding of her life."

Again a little vague.  "chaos" could mean anything.  Tell us what chaos. Be specific.  e.g "she wished to draw me deeper into the volcano crater of her life"

Try again on the two weak ones Michaela.  

On this one I think you need to try for something like:

I was afraid of his hoary eyes, his mortuary breath, his drunken, ungainly walk.

On the third section which I have skimmed you seem to have done a pretty good job.  I'll have to look at that tomorrow, out of time now.

Later.

M
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68 posted 03-12-2009 05:13 PM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Michaela, I've been a little snowed under today - I'll be back on this tomorrow.

M
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69 posted 03-16-2009 06:02 PM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

Michaela, just to let you know I haven't forgotten you!  Been a mite busy catching up with work.  Will be back very soon.

R
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70 posted 03-16-2009 08:11 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

It's fine Moonbeam. Take as much time as you need. I haven't had but a couple of minutes on here at a time myself. I still need to complete that last bit of the linguistic invention or whatever.
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71 posted 03-18-2009 04:43 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

Ok, I've redone those weak ones...Do these work???

I loved the light citric whiff and lively sway of the wash on the line in the summer morning.  

She wished to draw me deeper into the thunderous hurricane eye of her life.
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72 posted 03-18-2009 06:21 PM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

I loved the light citric whiff and lively sway of the wash on the line in the summer morning.  

She wished to draw me deeper into the thunderous hurricane eye of her life.

The first is MUCH better Michaela especially the "light citric whiff" - citric was an unusual choice of word.  I was expecting "citrus".  But it works.  Also can you HEAR the lightness in the phrase read aloud "light citric whiff" - all those clicky consonants skipping along like the washing in the breeze.  Part of the skill of good poetry is to make the SOUNDS work to bring out the pictures too, and you have done that here.  Well done indeed, wonderful choice of phrase.

The second is much better too.  Just watch one thing though:  you see how you use the adjective "thunderous" to describe the noun "hurricane"?  Well when you use an adjective to describe a noun always ask yourself this question: "does the adjective really add anything?".  For instance if you say: "the speedy rocket" it might be argued that all rockets are speedy, and therefore speedy has not improved the image of the rocket in any way at all.  Similarly when most people think of hurricanes they probably think of them as thunderous.  You may question whether this adjective adds anything or whether it burdens the phrase unecessarily.  

But hurricane is a good choice.

I've been away for a few days and it's been hard to settle down for any long period of time, plus I've had the distraction of CA being closed, so apologies Michaela.  I'm home tomorrow evening, so by Friday I should be back to take this further.

M
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73 posted 03-18-2009 06:27 PM       View Profile for GothicCherry   Email GothicCherry   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GothicCherry

Yay! That's probably the first thing I've learned all day. Sorry, I've had a very dull day. Ok, so I need to make sure I don't make it too wordy where it's not needed. Ok!
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74 posted 03-18-2009 06:53 PM       View Profile for moonbeam   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for moonbeam

I love to hear people say they've learnt something, ty.   .

Yes too wordy, but particularly watch out for overuse of adjectives describing nouns and adverbs describing verbs.  As Mary Oliver has said, an adjective or adverb is worth only 5 cents to the 50 cents that every noun or verb is worth.  Check out good quality published poetry and compare it with beginner poetry and you'll find far less modifiers (adjectives and adverbs).

Look at this poem by Donald Justice:

Absences by Donald Justice

It's snowing this afternoon and there are no flowers.
There is only this sound of falling, quiet and remote,
Like the memory of scales descending the white keys
Of a childhood piano--outside the window, palms!
And the heavy head of the cereus, inclining,
Soon to let down its white or yellow-white.

Now, only these poor snow-flowers in a heap,
Like the memory of a white dress cast down . . .
So much has fallen.

And I, who have listened for a step
All afternoon, hear it now, but already falling away,
Already in memory. And the terrible scales descending
On the silent piano; the snow; and the absent flowers abounding.

..........

Look how SIMPLE the language is, not made to sound all poetic with numbers of adjectives and adverbs (unless they really add something important).  Just a beautiful descriptive poem.

It's harder to do than it looks.  But that's what we're aiming for Michaela.

Back soon.
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