I liked your talking dog story. Good use of the sounds made by the dogs. Well done and funny as hell. The Fuff roof and Hhoof hoof, were interesting words.
Hi Dave
This is a great poem. Though I do not live in America I am always saddened by how those people that were willing to lay down their lives for others are shunned and exiled from a society that reaps the rewards without gratitude. Christmas can be a time of great happiness when families get together and share feigned pleasantries. It is also a time when we are reminded of absent loved ones, and destitute families struggle to make the best of it. The homeless are forgotten.
I like that at the end of the poem the homeless vets were able to still find solace in one another's company. There are people out there that are very much all on their own, for one reason or another; Christmas, for them just emphasizes their loneliness.
Hi Thankful
I liked your poem about being old and set in your ways. Music progresses from one generation to the next, but most times we stick with what we are familiar with because it seems more relevant to the era we can most relate to.
Music used to be important to me, but now days I merely listen to what I like to listen to, without the influence of others. I grew up listening to a wide variety of music. At the age of six my favourite albums included, Elvis, The sound track to My Fair Lady, Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite and an Australian country western singer named Slim Dusty.
As time progressed I learned to keep my love of classical music (and poetry) to myself and started listening to songs I did not enjoy but felt compelled to listen to because of peer pressure. Late I honed in on things that really appealed to me; music from such bands as ELO, Pink Floyd, The Beatles and a New Zealand band called MiSex. However I still enjoyed other forms of music such as John Denver and started appreciating some of Beethoven's symphonies. I attended a catholic school and became familiar with song from Joseph and the Technicolor Dreamcoat and Jesus Christ Superstar.
BY the time I left school my tastes had changed again and I was listening to Punk Rock, some Heavy Metal. reggae and snippets of rap.
So I guess I am all over the place with my tastes. Presently I prefer quieter, easy listening music (sometimes reverting back to classical) and don't usually listen the radio in the car. I have little tolerance for loud music, meaning I tire of it quickly. A friend took me to a Pentecostal conference/concert. The music was a little louder than my old ears could tolerate over a two hour period. I felt like one of those stuff shirt grownups I had despised when I was growing-up. Its a strange thing when the first time you hear yourself say, turn that racket down.
Everyone worships differently, some need to shout loudly so God can hear, others believe God resides in your heart and can hear your thoughts; the way he knows the spiteful or unholy thoughts people posses within their minds.
Hi Lazy Writer
I read your story and thought it was quite amusing. Snakes don't bother me because I live in New Zealand where there aren't any. The few snakes I've seen, while visiting relations in Australia ( a lot of them Brown or Tiger snakes) seem more fascinating that scary. However I still found myself keeping a safe distance. Spiders are another story.
The story flowed smoothly and kept my attention throughout. A thought crossed my mind that it would have been fun if the hose the Pickle kids were going to play with ended up being the snake. Another plot twist that would have been good would be if Brittney somehow overcame her fear of snakes and befriended the snake. Perhaps, secretly feeding it as a beloved pet. Still it's your story to do with as you please.
This is an interesting story CupidsOneOfMyNames,
I like how you left the end hanging. The imagery was well done. I am guessing this could be part of the apocalypse, with a portal (of sorts) to a new existence. Whether it is good or bad is hard to tell. Maybe it’s like ours, starting with paradise that we slowly destroy with greed and anger.
Well done.
Just one typo - Golden smoke curled off of it
-Golden smoke curled off it
-golden smoke curled from it
(in my own opinion)
Hi Sumojo
I really liked your poem about how the dog got his shoes and how it tells everyone that it passes along the way to the park.
Full of suspense and tragedy with a happy ending.
I also liked how it told a beginning ending and middle.
Keep up the good work,
Seasons Greetings and merry christmas Netty.
I liked your poem. It does honour Jesus and God, from whom we owe so much.
I hope you don't mind but instead of going through the poem bit by bit I am offering you an alternative. It is the samme poem except with a few tweaks. It's merely a suggestion, and you are free to ignore it if you wish.
Have a great Christmas.
God Bless
Lezismore
I SHALL GIVE THANKS TO YOU OH, LORD, FOR THE NUMEROUS BLESSINGS YOU HAVE BESTOWED UPON MY LIFE.
SO THANKFUL I AM, WHEN I REFLECTING UPON YOUR SON JESUS CHRIST, WHOM YOU GIFTED TO THE WORLD. HE IS THE ONE TRUE JOY TO ALL THAT ACCEPT HIM AS THEIR SAVIOUR.
HE PAVES OUR WAY TO THEE OH, LORD; FOR OUR SALVATION
THANK YOU OH, LORD.
Hi SandraLynn
They look really cool and I am guessing help brighten up people's days. You are very talented with your craft. I am sure it is quite a therapeutic hobby.
Hi LightinMind
The teenager was not exactly wrong when he spoke about the continuance of our species relying on the survival of the fittest. It may not be an emphatic way of looking at things but its the truth. If evolution left it up to our consciences and misguided morals then nothing would ever evolve. Also our immunities would have failed long ago.
I found their discussion fairly typical of the generational arguments when both people think they know better than the other.
It is very true that Jesus died on the cross to pay the debt for our sins. He understands our failings and transgressions of humans and none of us is perfect. However, having said that, we should now assume that we have the right to do whatever we want. We must remain accountable for our actions.
As a child I used to watch Sesame Street. One of the segments involved Kermit the Frog interviewing various characters from folk law and historical occasions. Once he interviewed George Washington's father regarding how he did not punish George after the boy admitted to chopping down the cherry tree. They were out in a field and George was chopping down cherry trees. Each time he would admit it and be forgiven; only to repeat the same transgression. He never learned because there was no consequences for his mischief.
Jesus also tells us that people will be divided into two groups, ones that helped their neighbours (these remain in the presence of God) and those that didn't (depart from me ye cursed.
A good read nonetheless.
The dialog was easy to follow and interesting throughout.
I really liked your poem. It was full of hope and determination. Poetry hs never really been my forte, though I do enjoy reading it, and have done so since I was a child, so feel free to take on or disregard the following advice as you see fit.
There is something about the title that reads a little awkward. I understand what you are saying but Despair may not be the best word to use. Unfortunately I cannot think of an alternative. Maybe it would have more impact if you mentioned the interference, distractions and temptations of material aspirations that falter us during our spiritual journeys.
spirits with love with no pardon you probably should elaborate a bit more as to what this means. Forgiveness is what eases our souls from the burdens of scorn.
Apart from that this poem is quite thought provoking and east to read.
Perfect Angel is so Precious (like a magic ring perhaps).
I like the story. The original family sounded mean and unloving. They did not have the patience that such a dog needed. When children are constantly told they are naughty, scolded and sometimes spanked, they tend to end up believing they are incapable of doing the right thing. They simply give-up trying to be good because what's the point of bothering to behave. It is only after their parents/guardians adjust their own attitude do the kids change theirs.
The same could be said for dogs. It is interesting how Tipple Boo Boo's behaviour changed after she found a more patient and understanding family to take care of her. She was still in the same mindset, compelling her to misbehave, but without the same consequences.
I like how it responded to the name it liked best with a wagging tail. This seems better than a simple bark (which could mean anything really -dogs' vocabulary are quite limited.
There was a typo I noticed - The woman couldn't finish hee statement - The woman couldn't finish the statement.
Hi Ruwth
That is a very interesting story about ringing Jesus. It must have been amazing when someone answered. I wonder if that person had prior knowledge what he digits of his telephone number spelled. I bet it also gave him a story for life to tell other people. 924-934 may have given you the direct line to Yahweh.
Thank you for sharing;
I read your story and thought it was cool. Perhaps the snake will end up being friends with cat and deer. Who knows? Stranger things have happened.
Some suggestions that might help improve this story. You are free to accept or ignore them as you feel fit.
First paragraph
(suggested edit)
The bushes rattled and out came a very surprisingly small deer. Its nose was white and spotted brown fur had been so carefully tended by its parent, that it deflected the few streaks of sunlight that were passing through the canopies of overhead branches.
Other typos
…it/he trotted along (Perhaps better to refer to the deer as “He” throughout the story; lends the creature a more personal identity)
-The little deer tried to tag along, but his elder sister had forbidden him from joining them.
- He could smell something unfamiliar; something very dangerous with big teeth, sharp claws and a thirst for blood.
- tried to run but he was too late.
-then he fell
-the water was chilly
It was a huge snake
Hi HuntersMoon
Looks as though you got yourself one mighty fine double-wide, and possibly blood related to boot. Such a romantic story, you at Wallmart with your trolley load of beer, her in her trailer-park-trash uniform. You certainly have a way with words.
It rains on the just and the unjust, and those that toil the Earth and perish.
Interesting take on the rain. I've always been fascinated how we as humans willingly take a shower each morning, go swimming and constantly wash our hands etc when we are dirty yet at the slightest touch of a raindrop race for shelter, least we get wet. Why do we fear rain and not water?
I like the sound of rain tapdancing on the roof. As a child I sometimes used to like to stare at the windows as the rain pelted it and watch the raindrops dribble to the lower sill, pretending they were descending aircraft or perhaps a squadron of UFOs landing on planet earth. When it rained heavily my friends and I would break up twigs into small pieces and sail them down the constant flow of water in the sidewalk gutters. It also gave us a chance to splash about in puddles and most of all occasioned us a chance to sleep in when Saturday morning sports were postponed because of inclement weather.
Now days it is not as much fun because I work outdoors and once you have a southerly driving the cold wind into you the novelty soon wears off. However I still like listening to the rain and know how much the earth would suffer if there wasn't a delicate balance of temperatures. One has to take the good with the bad.
Thank you for posting your story. I liked it very much.
Yes Profspatky; that about sums up my mathematical education at school. I remember sitting board out of my tree while the teacher explained the fundamentals of the angles of triangles. My mind drifted to carrier aspirations involving me working with triangles and people all over the world seeking my advice on triangle related problems. By the time I had finished my daydream the teacher had stopped talking and the rest if the class was working on such a problem. If only I had listened.
Really liked your poem. I also once got into an argument with a teacher about how pies are not always square, most of them are round. Her response to my observation came in the form of sharp smack across the back of my hand with a wooden ruler.
Thanks for posting this poem. Gave me a bit of a laugh.
Hi Angus
I really liked the story and thought it was so interesting how someone could go from selling toothpicks to being a business tycoon with a building 100 stories higher than Trump Towers.
There was one inconsistency I came across
He quickly got on the elevator and went down to the first floor, locked the door, and returned to his office with hopes he could talk to his employees the next morning and make some kind of amicable resolution to their plight. And for a few moments he thought that might be possible since the chanting had quieted down and he could no longer see them from his vantage point.
Suddenly there was a loud explosion from somewhere below. The building began to shake and cracks appeared on the walls and ceiling, where his $3 million diamond chandelier was swinging back and forth.
In the final few seconds of his short life, Morris Livingstone looked out his top floor office window and watched as all the other, smaller skyscrapers of Manhattan started rising toward the sky.
In the fifth to last paragraph he is on the first floor then when the building starts imploding he is on the top floor.
Please note that I am no expert on poetry and the following review is merely my own opinion. You are free to accept or disregard any of the advice given.
I liked this poem Zeke
Reads like a mantra or at least needs to be set to music. I think however "We are His" is a little vague. From what I understand you are saying that we are part of him as he is part of us or we are his chosen flock. Just a thought and I know three words is not a lot to play with.
Anyway I liked this.
I remember doctor's visits back when I was a child. I think they merely went through the motions. No house call would be complete without the thermometer magic torch, adwomen exploration and throat check.
Take two aspirin and see me in the morning. It was better than some of the horrible tasting medicines they prescribed. There was one though that tasted a bit like a raspberry drink which I quite liked.
Face chat, skype and other means of contacting people just don't bring the same satisfaction.
I have given up trying to self diagnose via the internet. Most times they tend to scare you into believing you've got something fatal or at least something more serious than what you really have.
I enjoyed reading your story. Keep up the good work.
Well done Jatog the Green. I found your poem on random reads and this is what I thought. I do not profess to be an expert on poetry, this is merely my own opinions. You are free to take the advice or tell me to go stick my head in a pig.
This is very reminiscent of the 1957 movie 12 Angry men (remade 1997) when after a murder trail the jurors meet to deliberate their verdict. 11 say the accused is guilty but one votes not guilty. One by one he convinces the others that there is enough reasonable doubt to find the accused not guilty. One of my all time favorite old time movies.
In your poem it turns out the accused was in fact guilty all along. However it is better that ten guilty people go free than one innocent person be put to death.
Hi AJBurchell
It isn't easy being green, or summing up anyone's life in 50 words
By only thought was that since every word counts in a story like this, if you only used the word green once then you would have three extra words to play with. Not much I know but someone once told me "every drop counts she cried as she peed into the sea"
“Get this thing off me! It smells, it’s wet, and it’s fat!”
People don’t adopt cats, cats adopt the slaves of their choosing. I really liked this story, though most of it had been pre plotted by the prompt. George’s feigned apathy and his wife’s empathy were captured well.
I couldn’t see any typos. Characterisation was perfect and dialogue interesting throughout with definite speech patterns for each character.
Wonder how they got on feeding all those cats, I’m sure it was a labour of love.
Hope this got you a placing in the Bakers Dozen Contest.
Lezismore.
Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/profile/reviews/peterelbee
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.10 seconds at 8:39pm on Jan 09, 2025 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
