Critical Analysis #2 |
Recent Poems |
b.costen Member
since 2003-11-02
Posts 107ontario, CAN |
A Tragically Unusable Love Unabashedly in love She’s pulling her hair out the only way she knows how: Clumps Unalarmed, the situation is pleasant, only smashed by the occasional launching of wedding-gift porcelain that resists brokenness only through louder n’ louder floor-noises You smile, grateful for such a beautiful life partner Thinking, how cute she is just now—but better not to tell her—better not to spoil the moment And on she goes: lips curled, cuffs pulled, muscles ready to pounce Then you think it strange— how strange to have a cat with so much freedom but then a reconsideration— She was able to pick out her own clothes The Individual Is and yet isn’t. Gets regrets and symposium sized dreams in the head. No need for the Lord and yet sometimes they have talks. About the weather, family, that sort of thing. Small talk. “How was your day?” “How are ya?” “Busy.” “Tired.” Comes the big voice. Meets Him in the hallways of life and only bothers to tip his hat. Only sees Him for an acquaintance. The Individual does not require companionship. Although he feels towards others as they feel for him. There is no questioning his resolve. “I’m going down for the weekend, to the cabin, and to fish.” “That’s nice.” The Individual does not know kindness. Or the grand spirit of human equivalence a weekend of fishing could easily provide. Saskatchewan Sun The wind Goes out early On the prairie And sometimes Sometimes It never comes back Break fast In The Cold You’re pretty patient with eggs, she describes my approach to cooking without breaking the yolks I’m the most patient man, in the world, i respond candidly with a smile No. she trumps Only with eggs. A Postcard Why even bother writing at all? I thought about it. Realizing that I hadn’t been writing for the farmer, or the handyman. The farmer wants to know how the sun feels on his fields – as it sets; and the carpenter wants to know the warmth of flames as all his work burns – knowing that is finality at it’s most awe-inspiring. Then there are all the animals of the Earth: They want to see the spot on a leaf turn brown and devour the leaf. They wouldn’t mind if a decaying horse served a family of ants for “two good weeks.” Charging into the room – my child wants to touch the short hairs on my upper lip and think of them as his own. But writing for myself: I can expect to choose the short, decadent pieces that make me feel at home when I am not. Touching Something What if everything was grey. The trees. Your parents, everything – an object. This is how the blind don’t see. They feel out the world as though it were a husk of some disappearing shade. It is the same with the deaf, only worse. They see the words coming but they never come. They grasp at the husk and it falls apart in their big dumb hands. |
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brilliantlover New Member
since 2005-06-25
Posts 5Maryland |
I really like your style of writing, the sort of tongue in cheek feel to it all. That first poem is great, I even read it twice. |
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Juju Member Elite
since 2003-12-29
Posts 3429In your dreams |
Yes I like it too Juju - 1.) a magic charm or fetish 2.)Magic 3.)A taboo connected woth the use of magic |
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Juju Member Elite
since 2003-12-29
Posts 3429In your dreams |
I like the first and last one the most. Write more! Juju - 1.) a magic charm or fetish 2.)Magic 3.)A taboo connected woth the use of magic |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Ben~ Brilliantly penned ... and I love reading them one after one ... sort of like the pages of a good book of poetry~ I sort of hope more members will do this ... I think I'm gonna try it too~ *Huglets* ~*Marge*~ ~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost, |
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