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Post by equality72521 on May 27, 2020 4:37:43 GMT 1
I get where you're going. I'm just offering another route: The word "sea" is unnecessary. The imagery tells us it's the sea. The "That's" were just boring and interrupted the flow. Also, the possessive in line 3 of the 3rd stanza... is that where you want it? I'm not asking as a pedant, but because I actually like it where it is as opposed to where the casual reader might think it should be. Anyway... just my thoughts. And I do appreciate your thoughts, even if we don’t see eye-to-eye on all your changes. Yes, the possessive is where it’s supposed to be. I like it there too. No worries! It's your work. We don't have to see eye-to-eye. Longfellow would agree.
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Post by AQUA SALZ! on Jun 8, 2020 22:09:56 GMT 1
If anyone’s interested, this is another recent poem—I wrote this one out-of-the-blue on Friday. Still not sure why.Now, I’m still not sure about many elements in this, so once more if anyone’s interested any and all commentary is appreciated. My original title was “Restoration,” but I now feel that’s too on the nose. My second choice was “You Cannot Step in the Same River Twice,” but (heh) I now feel that’s too esoteric. The ideal title would be “Walking Distance,” but that’s because of that Twilight Zone episode. So, anyway, really not sure on the title front…
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Post by Deleted on Jun 9, 2020 19:08:04 GMT 1
If anyone’s interested, this is another recent poem—I wrote this one out-of-the-blue on Friday. Still not sure why.Now, I’m still not sure about many elements in this, so once more if anyone’s interested any and all commentary is appreciated. My original title was “Restoration,” but I now feel that’s too on the nose. My second choice was “You Cannot Step in the Same River Twice,” but (heh) I now feel that’s too esoteric. The ideal title would be “Walking Distance,” but that’s because of that Twilight Zone episode. So, anyway, really not sure on the title front… I suggest deleting the first line "In the Village" and making that the title
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Post by AQUA JAR!™ on Jun 9, 2020 19:13:32 GMT 1
IN THE VILLAGE! by The Village People
IN THE VILLAGE! Bonnets, waistcoats, candy-sticks, Taverns, pickets, (politics,)
IN THE VILLAGE! Schoolhouse, church, Walnut, birch,
IN THE VILLAGE! Fireplace bricks, Very uncomfortable bed,
IN THE VILLAGE! More uncomfortable chair, Book that will never be read,
IN THE VILLAGE! Merely always sitting there, Replica musicians’ perch,
IN THE VILLAGE! From time to time a county’s fair, And (on the table) a wax pear.
IN THE VILLAGE! Past the church and unkempt field, Old dirt path and open weald,
IN THE VILLAGE! Graveyard, fenced, Trees to lean against,
IN THE VILLAGE! A place to yield, A moment with the graves,
IN THE VILLAGE! And then the first drops of rain, And then clearly the county paves
IN THE VILLAGE! The road behind, reaps the grain, And burial here has always been pretensed,
IN THE VILLAGE! And then once more the village lane, And (flying overhead) a plane.
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Post by AQUA SALZ! on Jun 19, 2020 17:26:11 GMT 1
I suggest deleting the first line "In the Village" and making that the title Mea culpa for never responding to this, but thanks, Ack! “In the Village” is a solid possibility, but silly as it may sound I want to avoid too many similarities with that Shyamalan movie The Village (because “my” village is out-of-time too—though in a different way). I go back and forth on those two village lines—but either way I think I’m leaning towards the title “Just Up the Path” now.
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Post by AQUA SALZ! on Oct 23, 2020 23:36:02 GMT 1
For some reason, Lord help us all, I was inspired tonight:
Uncertainty in Evening
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Post by AQUA SALZ! on Aug 11, 2021 4:15:19 GMT 1
I haven’t posted in this thread in about a year. The following is far from the best thing I’ve written. You’re more than welcome to critique away:
Consider the Tomato
Consider the tomato, The sweetly bitter sphere, Unidealized by Plato Uneaten once for fear, But grown now in my garden, In which I search for signs That green may soon unharden And red may mark the vines — But not robustly ripened, Not sanguine red when picked. I grab my summer stipend Before Earth sees she’s nicked.
When back inside I shiver: I realize, with a thud, A sampling of the giver Is in each drop of blood.
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