This is fun. I am a huge Scrabble fan; my father and I used to play for hours. I really like the descriptive language used here in tribute to a beloved game. Very well-written.
This is so succinct, yet so poignant and sad. With a minimum of words, you have made me able to connect with this man's grief, which I love. I also love the idea of taking a song and turning it into a story. I've never heard the song but this story makes me want to go listen right now. Very well written.
While I love the emotion behind this and it is a poignant love letter between mother and child, the back-and-forth is a little confusing with the straightforward form of the poem. Would suggest perhaps putting the child's response in a different font, or indent those verses several spaces to the right. This would show a different person is speaking, yet the continuity would still hold. Just my personal thought. A beautiful piece, either way!
I like the way this is written. Having experienced more than my fair share of death, I will say that not everyone is quiet when they lose someone they are close with. When I lost my brother, my only sibling, I screamed, just one long howl of pain. It was five in the morning in a Minneapolis parking lot. You're absolutely right though that the part of the brain that is able to process logic kind of shuts down with the shock of the loss. And that part does go quiet, because you have to take time to restart. I like the way you've described that. I took two full weeks to process my brother's death. My family had to take me in and watch over me because I was unable to focus properly on just normal everyday things, like meals and taking meds. Death has a horrible way of shredding your life. But in a way, after years (and it's been almost 15 years now) of processing and grieving, I have come to a place where I can see the comfort in his death. My brother was unhappy, even at only 18 years old. He hung around unsavory characters, people who might have led him into the drug scene if he'd lived longer. I take comfort in knowing where he is now, he isn't suffering anymore. All of this to say; your piece is very well-written, well thought out and it is thought-provoking. I'm not sure what I could suggest to improve upon it, other than to perhaps explain why there is comfort in silence. I personally did not find silence to be comforting during that time; but that was my own experience. Everyone experiences it somewhat differently, though you are right that most people go silent when someone dies. I don't think it's all because of shock or loss; I think it's because they don't know what to say. And that's actually the worst part; not being able to speak for fear of saying the wrong thing. As I said, I'm not sure it's accurate to say that the quieter one is, the closer they were. My mother and I both were not silent and we were very close to my brother. But every death is different so that could be subjective as well. All in all, this is a really good piece. I also like the form; the structure is simple but effective. Great job, and happy writing! :)
I like this; it's well-written. I especially like the imagery used in the fourth and fifth lines, the bruised heart ordered to forget, contrasted by Pandora's box. Because sometimes memories really are like that, who knows what we'll find. And they are notoriously unreliable, especially as evidence of anything. Great job!
Oooh this is good; I like it! Grabs my interest right away and makes me want to keep reading, because I need to know more. Like why these thugs are after her parents. I like that it doesn't tell me, because that lets my imagination fill in the blanks with whatever feels right to me. Definitely feels like this is part of a larger piece, or at least that it could be if you wanted to take it further into a longer story. It's great action. And yes, Time is cruel. I like that line a lot. Have a great weekend!
Aww I felt this. It's sad when two people stop communicating, so much that their relationship fails. This was really well-written, I could sense the emotion behind the actions. My only suggestion would be to separate the first line of dialogue from the first paragraph into the next. Just a quick fix there. Otherwise I think it's really well done. Keep writing! :)
This doesn't seem so much a poem as freewriting; poetry has more of a flow to it and a structure. This seems to be more a long continuous thought broken up into lines and verse. It's also a bit wordy to be as emotionally effective as you might want. Suggest breaking the lines up even further to represent the series of motions and continuous action. Also, cut out unnecessary words like "I wonder." If you're only going to use "thee" once, suggest not using it at all and changing to something else that would perhaps rhyme (if you're going for a rhyme scheme). "Thee" is really only effective if the entire poem is written in such old-fashioned language. Otherwise it's clunky and doesn't make sense. But! I do get the worry and angst, and I think it's a decent piece of writing.
I like the line "Soccer isn't my can of soda"; it's an amusing take on the usual "not my cup of tea." I also enjoy the last verse, which sounds slightly sarcastic to me and made me smile. An amusing poem; I enjoyed it.
I like the style of the poem, and you've certainly followed it well. I just am unsure about the combination of "cheery" and "dreary," because on the one hand it sounds as though the writer doesn't enjoy summer, then the next line contrasts that, to the point where it's kind of confusing. But poetry is all subjective, so perhaps I'm meant to see the contrast and wonder about it. In which case, I like it. I also realize it's not simple to follow a rhyme scheme that also includes syllables as part of its structure; you've definitely done that well. Great job; happy writing!
While I find this well-written, I also find it a bit dry and high-handed. I do enjoy the topic of love, but the noun itself is not actually omnipotent. A nouns' only power is derived from that which we infuse into it as a word in a sentence. Love defined as a noun has very little power. Love itself, now that is omnipotent. There is a difference. It would be easier to digest as a reader if it were perhaps toned down a bit as well. The piece comes off as know-it-all, which can turn off readers. Also hickory is no longer used as material for bats, as it is too heavy a wood. Love is not just for humans; we experience it towards animals as pets as well. And it is evident that cats, dogs, etc. experience love toward their owners. This puts forth the argument that love is not all that makes us human since non-humans can experience love.
I am so sorry for your loss. I'm glad you have your best friend Mike now to rely on. Drugs leave terrible marks on the people whose lives they touch; it's so sad that Kevin's life turned out this way. My own father in college did a lot of different kinds of drugs (including cocaine) and it led him to become an abusive alcoholic later. I lost him recently and in a way can relate to your pain. It's hard to understand death. I think drugs/alcohol make it even more difficult. But I'm glad you still hold on to the good in your friend.
As for the writing; I don't know that much can be said. It's not perfect, but I think that lends to its beauty as a piece. This is authentic, from the heart, and when you have pulled something out that makes you feel like you're bleeding inside, it is going to be jagged and a bit rough around the edges. I think the rough edges lend an authentic voice to the writing that helps readers connect emotionally. So while there might be some grammar fixes here and there, by and large it's well done and a good homage to a friend you lost and still love.
I love your depiction of the moon here. At first I found the grammar error of "i" not being capitalized jarring, but then I re-read the poem aloud and thought it actually works. You're lifting up your friend the moon and downplaying yourself. Intentional or not, I like it. The only thing that I can actually critique is the word "alot" is actually two words: "a lot."
Otherwise, this is gold. I empathize and sympathize with the sense of friends not really being there to listen. I know what that's like myself. This is a lovely poem.
I like the freeform style, though the imagery could be improved upon just a bit. "Blue" "pink" and "gray" become more interesting when described as hues, like cerulean, blush, ash. It's easier to imagine exactly what shade you're referring to as well. "Alas" is a word that refers to regret, so that line is a little confusing too. But otherwise, it's honestly a decent piece.
In your description, you doubt the worth of your work. A poem is just a form we use when we shape our writing. Calling it a poem isn't what gives your words their worth; the fact that you chose to write them down does. It's a poem because that's the form you chose to use when you wrote the words down. They have worth to you or you wouldn't have bothered. Don't sell the piece short. Own your work, believe in it, and keep writing!
Happy writing :)
H. M. Marie
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