This is very self aware of you
Running away from your life tends to really be an attempt to run away from your self. The real escape comes not when you just stop running from things but when you finally sit down in a still place and embrace yourself, your choices, and your mistakes. Once you do that there is nothing left to run from.
I thought that this poem was going in a very different direction. I was sure that it was going to lament the way today's child is glued to screens instead of out playing like we did when we were growing up. Instead it points out that many of the author's job skills came from getting to play just one more game outside. Thi leaves me wondering if in this age of technology perhaps we would be better off letting children free with their technological inclinations. After all so many of today's jobs are far better served by a technological familiarity than the ability to mow a lawn. Who says what job skills they might be developing.
This is an exultation of the existence of a good day. All to often anymore, good days are few and far between. This poem acknowledges that truth and points at another. Painful days hurt all the worse for having had the good times. It is one of the real master truths of the universe. It is why grief stings so bad.
I thought th wister was five years younger, is there already a bunch of gossip and popularity in the 8 year old circles? This story isn't the best, but I have both read and written waaay worse. 5 stars for having the balls to post and own up to this piece.
That didn't end like I expected it was going to. I expected the kids would be stopped before they spread the truth because the live news wasn't live anymore. But I guess they succeeded. It is totally a deus ex machina situation. I would think the government would have put safeguards into place to keep this from happening.
Love it! Want to read more! Great idea. Thi is the second time I have read this and it has just gotten better than before given current events. The government seems like it is trying to undermine our rights. Especially in requiring people get vaccinations despite religious and personal beliefs.
This sounds like an ode to a father or grandfather. The kind that rarely exists outside of fiction anymore. I haven't seen this kind of man in quite some time. There is the possibility that this creature has suffered extinction. It is one of the sad truths of our times.
This gives attention to feet on the verge of a foot fettish. I get that it is about feet I just don't understand why. There seems like there is no purpose to this poem other than to extol the virtues of feet. Yes most people have them, but the only people who should pay this much attention to their feet are the people who have already lost them.
Hey, girl, good poem, I love the flow of it. The word choice is nice and the soft gray of the footnote isn't as intrusive as another choice might have been. Overall a visually and emotionally appealing poem. You really should stretch these poetry muscles more.
There is some sound advice in this piece. The thing the author appears to be focused on is the uncontrolled intrusive type of memor that comes with post traumatic stress disorder. Sometimes when it isn't too severe this advice might be enough but if ptsd is too severe then therapy and or medication might be required.
This is a rather sensible thanksgiving wish. The problem is the reality of family is that strife is rife among families. there are always sides to arguments and lines being drawn. Even in the choice of what family to have the celebratory meal with. But here's to hoping...
Interesting poem. I wonder what the subject of the poem is or has done that they must be enjoined to withdraw from the world like this. It is probably the inherent wrongness of the world view that is to be avoided. Pulling away from the world like this takes as special kind of courage that not enough have. And in truth the fruit of this strategy may or may not be borne out in this lifetime.
Cool poem. I love the part of tea time turns to pee time. Such a hilariously cute observation that few would be bold enough to use. It just sounds so silly in a poem but this wasn't meant to be one of those stoic solid meaning filled poems anyway and sometimes I think the world forgets that we need the literary equivalent of popcorn or cotton candy too.
This trillogy of Haiku really work together to present the image of clocks as leaves of fallen time. The author instructs the reader to select the best of the three as their official entry but I think it is the sum of the three that makes for the best possible entry in this contest.
This poem seems to be a very light interpretation of the picture of a girl's ghost sitting on a park bench. It is full of optimism for the future and doesn't focus exclusively on the girls sad past ending with her death and separation from her lover. The speaker takes strength from their time together and moves through the present into the future with the specter's help.
THis poem takes the image of a forest of trees surrounded by the faces of clocks all bearing different times as a consequence of suicide. the clocks show the times of death of all the people who took their own lives prematurely...The subject of the poems has become one of the trees and stares down at all the clocks knowing that one of them was his own.
THis version of the poem seems to end with the bench phantom finally finding her love. the other poems inspired by this prompt are not half as optimistic. though having the lover die and join her isn't the most optimistic situation. I mean with him dying and all.
In this reaction to a translucent girl sitting on a bench, the author takes the voice of the parent of a missing child. they question what happened to the girl, was she teased away by some sadistic person. Did they hurt her. Did she cry for her parent? The poem beggs the child to remain on the bench until the parent can come to find her.
THis seems to treat the forest of clocks as an army bent on tormenting people both in their sleep and out of it. They seem to revel in making people late and allowing them to sleep in for important meeting times. the wild timepieces can't be trusted in the least and there seems to be no law among them as they run fast or slow.
THis poem attacks time as a dominatrix, whipping at all her supplicants. SHe rules with an unkind hand and demeans the living and the dying with her stern and irrevocable wrath. Her victims beg and bargain for more of her attention just to have that sliver more of life but she denys them every...time.
THis is an interesting take on the prompt. It isn't about a lover in any way for this poet. It is about a ghost of self, youth versus age and truth versus fiction. The author refers to the speaker of the poem as much as a ghost as the image of the girl on the bench and I have to wonder what kind of afterlife this really is.
This poet sees the scene from the point of view of the girl's lover and I really hadn't thought of it that way. She becomes a ghost of a memory rather than a literal spirit. It has been so long since the lover saw her that the bench in the memory has broken and begun to decay as has the memory itself. I love it.
I love the title and the poem that has sprung from it or did it spring from the poem? I never know for sure but they go together perfectly. The idea that each clock represents a life is an image I didn't see in the picture and I really admire the author's creative sight.
So far so good, I like the way you are revealing her to be a very powerful witch without just saying so. I also love the wedding bells being the worst thing she could imagine. I think her imagination on that account will be enlarged quite a bit when she discovers what she is capable of. as to structure and grammar, I suck at those but the creativity and flow of this are perfect to my eyes. I would keep going.
Might you mean vigilance instead of vigilant inches second to last stanza? I could be wrong it just sounded wrong to me the way you put it. I totally embrace the likelihood that I am wrong. Other than that spot I really enjoyed this poem. It is highly patriotic and gives the creator the proper reverence for his role in our success as a nation
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