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Retired. Never an obligation 3,777 times…minus two or three thousand more (when a zealous-whatever programming made me) before MY lobby saved the rest, thanks to response with consideration and generous reply to put up with me.
 
I get a hang up on stats and what’s right. Blame baseball historians. Apparently, I can’t hear the societal norm above the NOISE IN MY HEAD! WHAT? Oh…you were saying?
 
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Public Reviews
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Review of Writer's Block  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
As a reviewer, I can be compulsive. The act of writing a helpful review is my aim. If I’m spinning, know I’ll find traction. Like any form of writing, the process teaches, when one applies a critical eye to deconstruct and build a vision from offered words, however they might present.

Anniversary Reviews email siggie


*CakeB* HAPPY WDC ACCOUNT ANNIVERSARY!!! from "Anniversary ReviewsOpen in new Window.*CakeP*
Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary Geoff Author Icon ~

This is a poem that is and isn’t about the title subject but something culled between the lines as a writer aware of this process to write truth and all that stops us from applying pen to paper. Life, as our words, have to be nuanced to consume, have considered, if even to know ‘do we speak a similar language’? As author-journalists, we could just write for ourselves, promising our words never see the light of day. However, this is a process of self-awakening that is interrupting in your poem. I clearly see the dilemma — lies are easy, truth is what is difficult.

We might project reader reaction, have someone in mind who might read, we could change the course of history and we might be overthinking it. I’m told by a former therapist, it’s a fear of success that has limited my output. That was 20 years ago. I had sought and found fame of sorts as a professional journalist. It never stopped me from hounding others or myself for truth. As one who had to be accurate, not want to disappoint, and have aired fewer than a half dozen retractions, none/nothing in the process seemed embarrassing. And, your poem reminds me. Why I write in a community while discovering myself. I need to motivate somehow, hating complacency. None of it/this deters or scares me. There was a time when it did, before all the formulations began arriving.

I think we perform better under pressure or walk away (if a 15 minute break or three years). The catalyst is there, but we tend to psyche ourselves out. We stall, as I see the poem demonstrate. There is a moment when it seems the course of history could change, projecting. Truth as in unalterable evidence can break any way. The only question seems will it be regret to keep your truth alone or take that risk. I’m for calculated risk, should odd be better than tenuously known.

We wrestle with our own words, what they should say and how, struggle to start. What road is the writer on, which path to take, tempted by the less traveled? We don’t see the end of the story (until we get there, consider), or what evidence reveals as truth. But here, the writer wrestles with fear, humility, as if a confession, one that should set oneself free (as many have been falsely prompted). This is about doubting whether it will. As a reader, specifics unknowable here. That’s where I plug in. As a relater, the importance of just a poem in earnest, revealing great consideration that can agonize, cause lament, whatever path chosen. It’s worth pondering. But, do we even wield our own pen when we attempt truth others may misinterpret (even now), it could get worse — refuted, rejected or railed against. I’ve been all up in that my whole life. People who taught righteousness repeatedly reveal as hippocrites. My tolerance is tested and the common denominator is not me.

It’s back to what taxes us, holds us back as writers. I fear failure, not success because there are so many ready to correct, not on grammar but subject? And, who don’t even know each individual’s journey through trials, reminding this reader the excuse I’m given to unplug from community and do what I want. If they need confessional writing, demonstrate something to me that’s believable so I can trust and follow in kind. But, look around. It’s all lies. Fiction everywhere. We put on our best face, not the ugliest mugshot, except that one person that wants to fit in, and realize the error of what it takes to be worthy…but accept ourselves, let no other judgment supersede.

This poem indirectly and with many awkward details perfectly demonstrates a process that can lead to this exact frustration boiling over into sadness. I can relate as reader. As we mature, push forward as writers, we might find a niche. The goal with writing doesn’t have to be to share, just care about the process. We also need passion inspired. Here I’m confronted by someone who does need to eloquently write confessional, but can. It feels as if there is a standard to meet, but the mind outduels the writer, spinning about fear, but is looking at outcomes with honesty. We know it doesn’t reward, experience taught. There is something in us that needs to lie, embellish, repair so we can move forward. Perhaps, we can’t alter history with words. Is that it?

I find the process serves a voice that has not been found. Sometimes, I don’t need it. I cast my seed-like words to a worldwide wind, if ever I’ll know, like really know, I’ve found others as passionate, as we possibly could catapult the other higher. I’ve gotten a bit away from poem concept, as I have applied myself to its formula, provoked by its author to further consider my role in a writing life. You lift me; I lift you. We go on. We’re writers.

I really did enjoy this and will consider again in the future…maybe start linking stuff folks could check out. Oh, I was ambitious just then. Yeah, set myself up (I’ll link that meme below). I’ll be happy and chirping as a lark before I remember I’m not a lark, but well meaning.

Warm Regards!
Sincerely,

Brian
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer
Citizen Journalist

I’m blind, not disabled.

<— this


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Review of The Id of God  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.0)
My Review is for "I Write in 2025Open in new Window.

Review of "The Id of GodOpen in new Window.

Dear Weirdone-Back in the games Author Icon ~

Your intriguing poem may or may not be well-meaning, but I’m handling it in this review with regard to the Christian faith. Review watchers and believers may take note my attempt to raise up and send support to Christianity (suddenly wondering where are our temples here?) Let’s study your words. I went into this as doubting Brian…

I’m curious about this poem and a form that intrigues with possibilities. The use of “contrapuntal poetry” (odd name) feels like puzzling child-taught core religious notes without substantial takeaway for a reader. Seldom does the community offer much or fails to illuminate readers and reviewers like me. There’ hope.

With this form (with a writer’s eye), I might have applied sensory-filled acts (on a cross bleeding, princely thorns mocking, betrayed with a kiss, forsaken martyr — our savior). Jesus presents strong images. I don’t know how the holy trinity functions (learn here), but the poem lacks the stuff to add up its makeup via intermingled poems. Is it three woven poems, or moreover, three woven characters, elements meaning to feed off the other. It fills a form, but little enlightens with message. I’ll get into this hybrid religion in an antiquated psychologist’s bubble further along. And now, I’m feeling the burn of irony.

Usually poem forms like this are a poet’s first encounter with an activity prompt in community. Not knowing rules of form, I question its brevity when tackling religion (and psychology). Do we not desire poems of reverence with a modern plea to get back our old-time gospel and parishioners, joyfully sing the praises. Or, is this idle tom-foolery (profanity was considered — rules — vagaries)?

How to consume a poem loosely playing with subject (albeit, nod to experimental) to demonstrate as faith intends, with a Freudian eye up in it. I can’t preach, but further is my ignorance. That prompts me to research. And a wonderment: are intelligent religious poems offered anywhere that get an Amen? written for a society failing its faith, worn down with dull apathy, provoked into complacency, by outsiders bent on taking our daily bread?

And considering a poet-offered introduction to further play on title, Freudian psychology seems parody or lack of God-valued reverence. (Did the famous psychologist make this conclusion, or be assumed?) I see this review as an opportunity to reveal ideological flaws amid an earnest theological/psychological fusion that still may offend the remaining devout. And, maybe that’s to be part of the poem appeal.

I’m happy to be shown my wrong-headed notions, as well. The poem title should entice, as the title line, “Contrapuntal poetry from my idea that the Trinity are God's ego, superego, and id...”

There’s a genuine ache beneath my words — as I desire spiritual poems to mean something again, feel live, with reverence, and attuned with a modern malaise in society. The Id of God offers a surface-level novelty, lacks depth in either theology or the emotive.

Let’s unpack with a critical eye, yet open heart, honoring my devout mother’s example, while giving you the dignity of my best consideration.


This form is rich in possibilities: voices, time, or states of being intermingling and elevating meaning with texture. Here, the Holy Trinity akin to Freud’s psychic structure: ego, superego, and id are interwoven. Rather than insight or new reverence gained, this felt more like a play of parts — theological cosplay came to mind, over hopeful spiritual encounter.

The poem uses three characterizations:
• The Father is just
• The Son is kind
• The Spirit is Holy

Immediate reduction is evident. This makes centuries of doctrine and lived experience into moral flashcards. What could have been — the Godhead imagined through psychology — reads as generalities.

Each trio of lines after patterns about the same, just as simplistic:
• Always strong / Sometimes healing / Always present
• Sometimes destructive / Always loving / Always working

How to align these traits with id/ego/superego? with the Trinity? It’s unclear for me. I get stuck at the Spirit is “Holy” and ‘Sometimes destructive’? This might imply the Spirit represents the id as unruly or chaotic. Or, the Father (ego?) is “Always working” but governs through divinity? I don’t see theological or psychological comparison to help a reader make connections. It’s more of guessing game.

The final three lines for me attempt a moral takeaway:
• Makes us think of him / Makes us desire him / Makes us act like him.

Makes us desire him especially jars. What sort of desire? Spiritual hunger? Carnal longing? Obedience? Worship? This offers little to go on. I suggest ‘desire’ in Freudian terms leans hard into that meaning. Without further development, this feels more awkward than profound...if even the aim than some light word play.

Your note (light, casual) reveals the poem as more of an exercise or play. That’s fine to workshop. I seek gravity or humility, or something that acknowledges God when invoking. Comparing the Trinity with Freudian terms isn’t so offensive — but does demand care. I can’t fully see this as thouht through or in earnest.

If you’re going for satire, it needs insight with bite. If sincere, needs more development. Maybe, for theoretical, clarity can do it well. Too glib to be reverent and too vague to be subversive.

Summarizing with my thoughts:
• What human POV in this poem? Where is Christ’s bleeding side? or mother at the tomb, a sad world waiting for God?
• The Id of God as title might have set the wheels in motion for this, but not showing or fully realized.
• What would it mean if God did have a superego!? It’s fun to consider. or if the Spirit was the id? Would that make a reader uncomfortable, or show something we’ve ignored? Go with that.

This poem feels more of a rough draft of an idea. And for divinity, ideas alone aren’t really enough when setting out to write. You’re not wrong for experimenting. But what remains missing is communion — with spirit, with reader, and with language that risks the trembling of belief.

It was a pleasure considering this conceptual piece during a time when Christianity feels a bit on the skids. I was hoping for more, with some revelation. Maybe, I did/have. At least, prompted to consider with having ideas of that form and many things I could write.

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writer’s Group
and “I Write in 2025” reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.


Phew. Sending it. Off! Off my plate, foul review!


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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.0)
My Review of “Haiku For Contemplation”

Dear Apondia Author Icon ~

I’m reading your triple haiku, Haiku For Contemplation, for I Write in 2025. I’m intrigued by and enjoy not only writing but consuming haikus, especially to lend thoughts with feedback. Grouping three haikus in one poem is something I’ve become familiar with recently years and enjoy these expansions of thought through anything like ordered progression. After reading, "Haiku for ContemplationOpen in new Window., I initially formed questions to ask myself:

What is the goal of each haiku here, specifically what takeaways? What is the goal of a triple haiku and what is achieved here?

Described as “3 Haiku for Contemplation” what personal bias can a reader use to contemplate on and envision?
Do transitions operate smoothly and keep the haiku form function and with flow?
Where are summary thoughts contained, and is the final summary reflecting back on all?

What is contemplated amid imagery, motifs or themes with any connecting sensory to reveal scenes? Is narrative in the way or complimentary?

This triple haiku fills form requirements, but lacked focus for me. I noted some awkward and passive language to check out. Where I feel strongest is conclusion of 2nd haiku, maybe better as open to that haiku? Read “weather” used four times, while lacking some details. Anything like squalls, thunder, light rain or other elements in scene to connect nature details to “wisdom” theme. Poem would benefit from sensory impulses to inform/tease a reader to plug in. I have so much to say on this. I think anything from me will seem dissertation.

As a professional journalist, I know poetry is akin to radio news copy I had written with brevity and imagery to illuminate listeners’ minds. Haikus serve a similar purpose. Since haikus traditionally capture fleeting moments in nature to get inward reflection, they work quite well on their own with minimalism and the smallest of evidence to give imagery and sensory details life of their own before a reader’s watchful eye. It lends to each person’s collective imagination. Your poem I’ve noted with a weather motif, both literal and metaphorical. I do see opportunities to get more out of this fresh write.

Each haiku seems to convey a knowing wisdom with natural observation. The first haiku introduces weather in transition, using breezes and clouds to foretell storms. The second haiku tries to link these observations to wisdom through the cycles of nature. The third summarizes this as learning used as a method before it quickly cuts to ‘a peaceful daily life’. I did struggle a bit to full grasp what you offer this reader, made my own assumptions to fill. Through questions derived, I have takeaways for you.

This is a “triptych structure’ and what I learned is it might intend to simulate movement from observation to learning to this applied wisdom. But, the transitions are slightly abrupt. Haikus, even when tripled, usually thrive on some tension between image and what that implies, or for this reader to infer. It feels what you have here tells a reader rather than allow those depictions offered to wash over a witness to feel or discover through poetic suggestion. Maybe, the missing link is elements that closely depict sensory details.

Suggestions I came up with:

First Haiku —

My wife and I discussed “Marshmallow clouds” just as a visual representation. It took third to cotton and popcorn. Yours is a soft, childlike image, which contrasted with “tomorrow’s storms,” a metaphor that didn’t deepen our understanding. Could the clouds be given more tension, like swollen, looming, visual suggestion for what’s impending? The other thought here is about “gusty breezes” which functions but seen as too generic. A verb or detail that gives more could sharpen it. I both see and hear “snapping flags” or “ruffling maple leaves” that both bring about memory, possibly nostalgia.

Second Haiku —
“Watching weather swell” stuck out for me as an example of passive writing. I do it all the time, likely in this review. I like to catch these in editing, preferring to cull my feelings into words, be in that moment as much as possible. A haiku like yours can have true immediacy with weather development. You might consider making this central link more sensory or visceral (gut feeling). I can recall times I had to quick pack it in, low clouds, winds blowing stuff around is my general feeling about storm approach. And those first droplets, quick downpours, and more. I don’t have to tell you. Sometimes, when I write this, my mind harnesses memories that access experience mostly.

As clouds swelling, what it might look like then feelings that emerges. I did enjoy the last line of this haiku, “Knowledge grows wisdom.” That’s is a truism that does tells rather than evoke, but I like it as your overall takeaway after a storm progression. The peaceful part actually strategizes the epiphany here. But, is wisdom being shown through anything sensory and metaphoric, or through an image of someone acting wisely in response to change? Even a narrative voice can show progression here…a very nuanced one. Might be a tall task, if in that quest.

Third Haiku —

The phrase “Earth weather routine” was too abstract for my tastes, further does not ground in imagery but generalizes. found in classic haiku. “Quick weather response” is also not describing yet. The final line, “Peaceful daily life,” also would be more compelling if more had been shown to get here. Like I said about “Knowledge grows wisdom” as summary, you might have your best line coupling that could finish (“With a…) peaceful daily life/knowledge grows wisdom.”

On Contemplation, my Takeaway:

My core question was “What do readers contemplate after reading?” There’s potential with your poem to explore details of nature unfolding and what reveals that makes us wise to live more harmoniously. With the takeaway could come stronger images with sensory words that vividly described, immerse a reader to separate from page and apply one’s own bias. I think of moisture carried by wind on skin, how alert or quiet the denizen around us, smell of rain, etc. Imagery can provide layered meaning. General summations might seem cliche, dry or idiomatic.

Speaking of Narrative Flow —

Another approach that might abandon some previous notes here. I see a sort of progression happening from early observation to arrive at understanding before takeaway. Yet, these haikus don’t quite arc or reflect back on all. Maybe, the final haiku could circle back to an initial, offered image, before ‘voila’, changed by experience? I think how some deem a bear sighting as a transcendent experience for knowledge or a rite of passage. Maybe, some descriptive element in scene can be that signal of wisdom passed on?

This triple haiku honors form’s tradition, and your noted journalism background gives you a trained eye for observed cycles and patterns to report. I’d encourage taking more risk, even if figurative with less explaining. I’d suggest giving images sensory thoughts and feelings that speak, and trust the reader to relate, decode, come away with beautifully unique reveries of their own. You’re basically giving a very special weather report from heart and soul to responding hearts and souls of readers.

If you should rewrite, I would enjoy seeing and relating this offering.

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writer’s Group
and I Write In 2025 Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.



Ran out of time to finish editing for clarity. Sorry.



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4
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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
Dear Marvelous One/Marvella,

It’s clear from the poem you are moved to share deep appreciation for veterans and want to honor their courage. There’s sincerity here that should be preserved. You do well to honor these soldiers, offering a tone of earnest gratitude and reverence.

Overall, your poem reveals a noble heart, like a direct appeal that truly respects sacrifices made by U.S. veterans. The acrostic form, (HONORING OUR VETERANS), is admirable and a thoughtful construction, though some lines reach a bit to fit form, leading to some strain in the otherwise good rhythm and word choice.

I like imagery choices here, especially in the first stanza, giving this reader that sense of fatigue, with struggle and grit. Words like ‘heavy sack’, ‘endless miles’, and ‘breathing heavy from exhaustion’ are all effective and create a clear picture of the reality of life served in armed services. The middle section also reflected purpose and resolve well.

That second half of the poem leans more into the abstract, like philosophical territory. It adds righteous anger, sacrifice, and some political conflict. Perhaps, not what a veteran might want to hear. You would benefit from keeping the context of poem in that personal or emotional language, rather than things like “terrorism is not tolerated here.” But, it’s really not judged or read by many veterans for this activity/contest. Just a suggestion.

Perhaps, you could make a shift in part two toward why these things matter to you or for us, in regards to freedom, loved ones, safety. Then, it would connect more deeply for readers, judges. Maybe, you could try finishing by bringing the poem back to the personal, like, “To every soul who served — our thanks, our pride, our memory preserved.” Maybe, just vivid verbs and tighten the rhyme somehow could heighten emotional impact and continue the challenge of the acrostic letters with a bit more verve.

Now, I do note some gaffes. And as you said in the “I Write” forum, time to give it a rest. I hear you there. I can point out some stuff for you to look at to tighten this up, when you’re ready.

Spelling/Grammar Suggestions (I see six right off) —

1. Honering is Honoring
2. isles should be aisles (referring to paths…although, if metaphorically, “isles” could work, but it’s a stretch unless more offered to clarify)
3. emit, but I think you mean commit (“emit” would be giving off light, or sound, or gas…but not what I think you meant here)
4. Vengence is spelled Vengeance
5. faught is fought
6. saught is sought

Unless we got some military-type slang at work on the last two, of that I’m not aware.

Phrasing could be improved in a few areas (a few areas to consider) —

• Line 6: “Into the unknown, unfamiliar isles” — if keeping “isles,” you could make it more vivid or metaphorical with things like ‘isles of dread’ or ‘isles of fate’ or clarify the image further there, or even a change to “aisles” if you’re referring to passageways or symbolic paths a soldier takes.

• Line 14: “Angry souls casting weapons to have satisfied” — the meaning of this one is a bit unclear. Consider revising for clarity, if you mean something more like, ‘Angry souls cast weapons, seeking peace unsatisfied’. Another attempt, ‘Angry souls cast weapons, their fury unappeased’. Or, the like.

• Lines 15–16: there might be another approach to connecting these lines more clearly to help a reader, and to show your poem’s larger sentiment. One suggestion for you could try is something like…

“Never-ending wars that leave us distraught,
Yet the sovereignty of nations is bravely sought.”

This poem you offer would likely mean something to a veteran who reads it. You keep hanging in there. Got my bad days, too. I encourage you to keep writing from the heart, your support of military will surely uplift them on a difficult day.

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writer’s Group
and I Write In 2025 Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.



Should you want me to re-review, I’m happy to reconsider post any edits.



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Review of Her All Along  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
Dear ivey Author Icon ~

Just a quick assessment on reread (with dissertation to follow, mostly for the review watchers), the first four couplets are the heart and essence of this poem that offer the true reveal, indirectly pointing to either misunderstood or deceptive statement with a back door escape hatch. As you offer, he still has no leg to stand on, brand it cheating. Even non-exclusive doesn’t cover it. People thinking themselves clever for their simplistic, narcissistic tendencies leave that hatch to escape from false or non-disclosure in statement, readied with gaslight, usually the extension that can be persuaded and granted in event there is noted duplicity without complicity of the addled victim.

The rest of the poem is more from emotion, informed by pain, can’t get fully untangled from it. The act of writing a poem such as this is one’s own escape vehicle, one that takes great purchase to own because a lie is a lie until proven or disproved. I appreciate the take, the approach, knowing this is therapeutic, a bit rehashing with a bit rehearsing to convince oneself they needn’t feel pain from what surprisingly victims own. It’s not your baggage, dear poet. Drop the bags, poem narrator. I do not have the power, only you, to release you from ill-gotten indebtedness.

I know a woman who let a man get so close to her, he financially ruined her, putting her in deeper debt. It’s her agony, with a soul disgraced, barely able to get by, with just a thankless, menial job with a son who won’t visit, and a daughter who left to go live with her dad (who has died) and half a world away with no association with her because of poor choices. I think she punishes herself. I relive so much hearing stories like this conveyed in ode. But, you are over a year away. I write and publicly share my reviews, if any care to bear witness.

I missed sending a review for this one out as an Account Anniversary Reviewer. Doing anniversary reviews and see accounts like yours that appear abandoned, now 13 months after initial start up. Yeah I am here to acknowledge from a group your membership, which lhas not offered new writing past the first two weeks oafter opening your account. And the subject matter that draws my eye among five entries still remaining, is similar to what I find in other one year accounts that have no current activity. And, subject matters covered like yours not dissimilar to that by folks who feel empty, or, left out by society, by loved ones.

I’m still thinking of the song, looking for love in all the wrong places, and writing this. With Writing.Com, the oasis-purgatory, there is escape. I fear the worst, hope for the best, when wondering about the lost ones or society’s misfits. And this is where some may have felt the tide changed for them, when their writing got them a tap on their shoulder and seemed their only outlet. For some, apparently it doesn’t happen, and they still have their words located here. They might come back to read a review, such as this. And speaking of said review, here lies my take of the poem you have offered.

My respects,

Brian
disAbility Writers Group Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.


My aim to lend feedback is, and is not, for me. I serve the writer/their heart and passion sought with words, foremost.
More in private blog entries illuminate ‘watchers’. Apologies to the author for applying this worthy platform that extends knowledge to any seeking, whether because or that absence of wavelength that might lift us from mysteries into the safety of what we know our convictions truly seek to represent. That’s why I offer ‘them’ these public reviews.


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Review of Contest Entries  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (4.5)
Dear Angelica Weatherby- July 4th Author Icon ~

Your take on the Mulberry Bush rhyme as retro-fitted vehicle got my child memory to relate right from the open of your six couplet entry "Contest EntriesOpen in new Window. for "Monsters Under The Bed - OPENOpen in new Window..

I did puzzle at first when considering “undead statue” but it sank in as I read on, perhaps from the joyful, sing-songy repetition in first verse. I was reminded of the game “statues,” imaging the likely added ‘undead’ quality in the child-stylized adaptation of the game relying on playing pretend.

The process of story-poem progression is the next detail, and this for me would be a great way to spin the Wizard of Oz, collecting characters down a yellow brick road. This opportunity gives me wonder how Dorothy’s adventure could be spun, re-enacted here. You could either end or begin with undead stature to either introduce Dorothy at start with the undead statue and anything met enroute to…? Would she then be an undead girl? Does she find her dog at end, lacking a horror adjective/modifier for Toto at this moment, but the terrier (terror *Laugh*) could eat the other creatures to save Dot at the end. Just some thoughts that gave me pause. I could try an entry of my own on that note. But offered here to you, should you like to take a new approach.

Otherwise, what you have here is straightforward. Considering contest rules, some action outcome would help fit with rule/suggestion 3: “Put your own dark twist on the poem. Your version can be mysterious, dark, or horror.” I didn’t see mystery or horror. It loosely plays as dark. What you have here could easily adapt, given the formula in place, just plugging in new details to get action, more of a story, for reader (usually with something implied like moral, at end).

Your poem could be about defeating scary monsters along the way. It might be about focusing on the undead stature, briefly coming to life like a thing in Scooby Doo trope when they’re investigating (dark scene, flashlights) but only the dog or Shaggy witness while the others, as disbelievers, shush them because the dog is a goof, but definitely the group’s talking anthropomorphic Lassie. In one scenario, Fred and Daphne (posers?) could be killed by the monsters, the other three could succumb to the zombie/undead or defeat it at end.

Scenario 2, the first thought I had, going back to Oz. However they assemble or come to life, Dot could escape with or without Toto…perhaps each creature sent to kill or join. However demise of whom or whatever, something gruesome occurs (even off camera, and they disappear). Then, repeat with banality, as the open stands now, to finish on the first verse. The undead could be envisioned as harmless at outset, comes to life, or off camera devours, as only one hint reveals to tease a reader what becomes of the entourage. I envision something of a Venus flytrap, where the undead devours other evil, whatever, however.

The idea of this idle corpse at end evokes images for me, seen in this way, shows or implies some action. Simply, the statue is as innocuous as a frozen snowman. I see this frozen undead with a bit of evidence like blood and/or flesh on its mouth. Playing with the poetry lyric: “If you don’t look out the statue/undead/zombie will come to life whenever you’re around!”

That was fun. I’d love to know if any of this can help with your entry. Truly, I have stumbled upon a great vehicle that could produce several similar entries in either Oz or Scooby Gang formulas alone, where I see so many moving pieces, the child’s game could go on for hours killing monster villains or the unsuspecting gang; even Scooby could eat whatever to rid evil or rid the others. He’s pretty tight with Shaggy, who could become possessed zombie, to be saved or killed. Stakes don’t work on zombies? Off track now, thinking of Dracula.

This is tight as is, straightforward, mild enough for young adolescents. If I had kids, I’d be making this game up for them to invite neighbor kids to play in the back yard, ASAP. What better time than summer. Horror with a snowman in winter now appears to mind, killing the mailman, dog-walker, milkman…clearly in the 50s. I’d definitely off those door-to-door Jehovahs (no offense if this is your sect), package deliverers (no offense if you toil with weird online orders), and meter readers (*Meh*). Lots to play with. Good luck in the contest!

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writer’s Group
and I Write in 2025 Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.


I can’t edit this any more. Hope it’s readable, rambles less than the usual.


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7
7
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
As a reviewer, I can be compulsive. The act of writing a helpful review is my aim. Clouds get pushed away before sharing these thoughts.

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Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary audra_branson Author Icon ~

I chose to review you because you had your account anniversary yesterday. I perused several poems before I landed on this. The last two version of your poem are absolutely beautiful. So much so, I think that would ideally serve as a great start to your poem. It would really hook a reader and get your message off with a bang, with the supporting thoughts that follow. I also get why it nicely ends poem. But should you consider a small way of getting that ending is intone thst open, repeating a few lines up to adding two new to it to bring it home. Just an idea.

The imagery and sensory connected to nostalgic melancholy resonated where this poem sums up. I want to revisit this first in my review. Noting a meter and rhyme that carries throughout, it felt like you hit your stride here:

Silence your sight, take a breath,
listen to my voice.
Aging is the way of creation,
it isn't a choice.

Take my hand for a minute;
let me share.
Remind me 'fore my time is through,
that someone cares.


This narrative voice permeates poem message to really demonstrate the power of the aged speaker. ‘Silence your sight’ nails it. — gold. In a world preaching inclusion there is still hypocrisy and especially where women are made to self-assess physical appearance as they age. We went from shaming those industries who sell beauty products, produce visual materials, advertise fashion, how to look (youth factors) and ‘what are you wearing’ on red-carpet Hollywood that produces movies with two beautiful, straight people, man and woman. Beside the point.

So, this poem can cause people to reassess ageism; but without a media movement or further outcry, we no longer care. Many seniors are detracting from the whole because their bodies stop producing necessary chemicals to sustain youth. Slower speech, reflexes, vision loss and more creates negativity, considered a detriment callously. Youth gets the narrative because they will spend their money. It’s not unlikely that youth are discouraged to respect elders as in other cultures. We don’t want those free-wheeling kids to put money in savings. The aged could tip them off.

Your poem focuses at the end of the natural order of things, the acceptance. This wisdom in the poem feels like a message to the world, showing strength, calm. These words and intimations are valuable, as our youth who really need direction can see. Pair them with seniors, each helps the other. Programs out there? But, getting off track, this ends with a need to know warmth of love in world departure. This is potentially uplifting and sad all at once, brings a frown knowing people dying every hour without a loved one at their side. But, also know they don’t really get desired attention. Hopefully, a nurse Angel will be by their side with a morphine drip.

The second stanza like many others is simply put. I like this for the voice. The careful consideration of chosen words is witnessed here. These are valuable first three words in verse 2 is hitting all the right notes. It’s solid reporting to reader that helps remove the mask of appearance to show there is beating beneath that breathing for one who has much left yet to give. Line four is smart to caution, because of bias that shapes what a potential listener might consider. It would mean having to deflect, if not demure from past response as disinterest, so it seems.

This poem evenly describes — Is clean to read, with a relatable subject matter that intones theme with the wisdom it provides. Don’t judge the face of someone and not the heart and soul. It really is dehumanizing to think. Well done.



Sincerely,

Brian
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.



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8
8
for entry "Teaching: My PassionOpen in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (5.0)
Dear Humming Bird,

I hear selflessness, a passion for education being fulfilled as a conduit for the joy received for those efforts mentioned in this blog entry. It’s a very candid offering, considering the types that felt need to wrinkle their noses at you. I’m still hearing old world judgment remains, rather than the generational tides adjusting the social landscape with the times. You seem to take it in stride, as your blog entry feels effortless, directly reveals in what is a confessionary style of writing. The candor is sweet, gives me lots of images. Good images. I miss my kids being little because it allowed me to show another side of myself, act like a kid again, relive childhood. Because of this, your experiences can be multi-dimensional and connected with your own understanding from remembrances of youth.

Really this is rare for me to experience something like this, and half a world away and feel I’m near to warm spirit, the exact opposite of a nihilistic universe that calculates and manipulates. In these times, people still rob the well-meaning souls unfortunately coerced.. it can’t be ignored. It’s good to see this kind of kindness, though. My acts continue, (ir)regardless. I mirror your behavior and add my sentiments of what a wonderful thing you are doing. I can honestly believe you can do this and be there for yourself where nasal bones are tempted to reshape … ”crook.” I befuddled Google’s AI with your figure of speech. It went on about rhinoplasty. *RollEyes*

I’m actually hunting for unique words right now, including the familial lexicon with quirky onomatopoeia-like ability. I’ll have to include figures of speech like this. ‘Crooked noses’ could also be ‘sour pusses’, too.

Congratulations on your joy and happy purpose, and thanks for sharing.

Warm Regards,

Brian
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group
and I Write in 2025 Reviewer.

I’m blind, not disabled.



What I learned while Googling to lend feedback, I got this AI assist —.

“‘Regardless’ and ‘irregardless’ are often used interchangeably, both meaning ‘without regard to’ or ‘despite everything’. However, ‘irregardless’ is generally considered nonstandard in formal writing and professional communication. While some dictionaries recognize ‘irregardless,’ it's often seen as a mistake or a variation of ‘regardless’.
Here's a more detailed breakdown….
Regardless:
This is the standard word and is widely accepted in formal and informal contexts. It means ‘without regard to’ or ‘not affected by’.
Irregardless:
This word is formed by adding the prefix ‘ir-‘ to ‘regardless.’ While it means the same thing as ‘regardless,’ it is considered nonstandard because of the double negative and its perceived awkwardness. It's best to avoid ‘irregardless’ in formal writing and stick with ‘regardless’.”

I’m didactic, AI is a bit pedantic.
https://dictionary.cambridge.org/us/dictionary/eng...


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9
9
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (3.5)
Dear Tim Chiu Author Icon ~

I approached your poem through the website’s read and review link (I never seem to get these reviews done before timer runs out. I’ll sit on it for another hour to work out the kinks.).

I’ve often tried to consume your poetry, encouraged early on by auto-rewards, which I don’t visit anymore. Your poem has a lot going on, seemingly a free associated write, but clicking on something auditory, reaching for lyrical, where roadblocked by punctuation, enjambment amid line breaks that are unusually employed. I’m focusing on the language that appears to lack a consistent message, maybe from any metaphor, to include symbolism or imagery. Nouns don’t appear to be concrete and there is some personifying that arrives as a bit of oddity.

Phrases that befuddle include: “Managed chaos comes to grips…” or the verse’in part:

“That cavalcade, that cavalry,
Slide the muffin, every day -
Enjoy the modest revelry,
Span the journey - say, don’t say!”

Really, the muffin? I don’t want to hunt the internet for loosely applied words that don’t hint at a particular vernacular. I feel universal language foremost helps readers. The title primes not the read for me. The poem’s pacing can’t be denied, but punctuation is like metal barbs

Ticking Upward: The Folks Get Primed is the first awkward thing for me to consume. I lean on my spouse from time to time, as we lounge in our living room, and bounced a few things off her tonight. She had a similar reaction to what I read, not knowing how precise my intonation of the words. Her general frustration to comprehend, I guess, is understandable.

The poem displays what might be a stretch to describe as a surrealist patchwork. More likely, a string of disjointed images and phrases that stitch together for more of a rhythm and rhyme, rather than provide some clarity or resonate with me thematicly.

Here are a few observations we concurred on, before she slipped out, with further interpretation

Looking at Language and Coherence

The lack of consistent message, metaphor, or concrete imagery did seem central in consideration for better understanding. I googled what I needed a term to describe and came up with a kind of “performative lyricism,” which means you have an ear for sound and rhythm when you compose. You drive the poem with the clips and phrases that did not provide any meaning. I first got stuck at “Slide the muffin, every day” appearing to be whimsical, bordering on deliberately absurd. We could not find argument for any deeper symbolic intent. I did learn surrealist poets play with abstraction while maintaining tonal control, where this feels arbitrary or a patchworked poem.

My instinct as a poetry observer and composer is to pay attention to nouns that we both agreed didn’t appear concrete, or the odd use of personification among them that seemed to have no function. I was tempted to google vernacular usage at several junctures, but felt I’d end up over-decoding (hunting for meaning that isn’t there) like I’m prone to do. It might disengage a reader, having to stop, think, make argument for every vague statement.

I took note of Punctuation and Line Breaks

I likened the punctuation to read like speed bumps, as if randomly placed. I am prone to fail with line breaks, punctuation, but take notes and get better by sounding it out. Once my ears collect the evidence, I have many choices to make for pauses up to dramatic reveal, and have consistency. The dashes, semicolons, and abrupt enjambments on these short lines either break poem flow or come blurted, non-sequitur phrases, but interfere with comprehension. These “metal barbs” draw attention to themselves in a way that disrupts what you express, further weigh-laying a reader.

As to Imagery and Diction

The poem toys with “sonic pleasure” (it’s about alliteration and rhyme). I found that reference in response of terms like “legal eagle,” “concomitant,” and “dead-red” that were without tonal harmony. This read could range from anything elevated, colloquial or nonsensical (“bump, disparage” or “modest revelry”). However, with a rewrite, it would be interesting to ground voice, so it doesn’t come across like skittering wordplay, which I’ve also been guilty of.

I generally thought pacing and rhythmic confidence give your poem some momentum, but needs to button down to get a clearer meaning or emotional feel. While there’s evident play with language and sound, the quick shifts in tone and the surreal with juxtapositions might disorient a reader, less than intrigued.

I can’t imagine reaching for the unique “slide the muffin” or “managed chaos comes to grips,” that as stand alone could be prompts to challenge poets. The title did little to framework the read, but act with significance before poem message. The lack of concrete imagery or metaphorical logically consistent makes it difficult for a reader to grasp what you’re relaying.

You seem passionate about this, share so much here, it’s unfortunate I can’t capture what may be social commentary to offer something to intone message. For me, the poem is ambiguity. I’d suggest consider areas to amp clarity, bring message home.

I tried to give your poem a thoughtful read, make use of google and espouse opinion to see if I could draw more from this. My advice would be to notice poetry devices, the poem’s mechanics and see if there’s a particular emotional arc or imagery thread you hoped would come from this. I’m around, will likely happen upon you again.

Sincerely,

Brian
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.


I wrote this review several days ago, fingers crossed I didn’t need to go over again to look for errata.


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10
10
Review of God  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
Noting your comment: I don’t think it needs to be longer, because it sends a message that can cause a reader to ponder and consider how they feel. It can be offense in its demonstration of dark humor, sacrilegiously lampoons religion and parody of communion and the body of Christ. It even flippantly calls God deity as if it fits in the mythological pantheon.

Some would say it’s brave to offer, but maybe a response to seeing too much crosses and reverant offerings with childlike eminence, focusing on religious themes, including prayer, poetic odes, and stories that owe all to Him. The mockingbirds don’t exhume scripture to use as moral in fable. So, I can imagine this arrives as response.

Maybe, seeing too many personal Jesus tone setters? Whether they appear to be daft, or dealing with health crises, a lot of over-focus pervades community and culture here. I’ve not seen them apply righteousness or declarations against sins. And it’s really a small part of community. That’s why I imagine this bit of poetry leapt to mind.

Your ditty plays on brevity, a lyrical tone, as would a child-like rumination or taunt. I too dabble in this kind of word play with dark wit for people who seek dominion over others. Religion feels conformist, but true conformity comes from shadowed whisperers and innocents with a nod to God.

I can neither claim this is good or bad. It’d be a tic or an itch to scratch before going on to the next thing. I think X, formerly Twitter, is well-suited for this. It’s not necessarily timely, but could be one part of a writer platform, a snippet in bio. It does give a good representation of impression.

Your poem’s strength could be no fear, if not to taunt the devout with overall limited understanding of Christian belief. It puts God down on the communion table for me. So, it’s an expression, then. It’s really not eating Him.

I’ll try my own here:
Let’s all squeal, God is great!
God tastes good! Let’s have God
for every meal.

And by meal, consume the Bible. Just found this in read and respond link at website, to get some practice with brevity in review.

Write On,

Brian
WDC disAbility Writers Group Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.


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11
11
Review of April Danger  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
As a reviewer, I can be compulsive. The act of writing a helpful review is my aim. I’m prone to error.

Anniversary Reviews email siggie


*CakeB* HAPPY WDC ACCOUNT ANNIVERSARY!!! from "Anniversary ReviewsOpen in new Window.*CakeP*
Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary Dorianne Author Icon ~

Loved how this poem "April DangerOpen in new Window. sets up. I have a backyard that blooms an array each year, fearing that our two unique Rose of Sharon hibiscus plants may have died with the topsy-turvy Winter-Spring weather. They like many others have been a lot of work to maintain, but let’s look at your garden of words here and see what blooms.

Right off, there is a voice and rhyme that feel natural, comfortable that I wanted to roam with my own eyes, too. I know from sickly, as you described, obviously there’s an amount of work to maintain perennials. Through this dreaming lens I could see someone who’d long for the wonderful flowers mentioned, to weed out that scene with a desire to have planted abd be able to witness their returning beauty. I’m reminded that I have not loved enough to protect my own through winters past. So, when they survive, it’s the joy I’m reminded of here. What sights to behold something I have nurtured. So, worse when I’ve failed. Here, this idea juxtaposes a bit my own garden life.

The narrator doesn’t fully reveal, but could further show dismay that the petchulant flowers endanger curious cats who will chomp a plant, possible reasons other than lodged furballs, but attraction that has done in some of our house plants in early years. I’m not certain what makes a pet-friendly garden and can’t be sure if some or all plants you’ve mentioned pose a risk. Poison does arrive from many flowers, thinking of Oleander in particular.

So, the spring flowers that need go away are wild? I couldn’t assume any of flowers mentioned were growing anywhere but in narrator’s imagination. So, a little confusion on my end. Otherwise, nice pace to read, good flow, rhyme also comfortable here. You have solid imagery. Some readers might not know how to envision these specific species mentioned. It would be nice to see a visual clue planted with each beauty revealed, like attribute, what gives them their name, or the like.

So, a little trouble editing for clarity with my feedback. Think it’s in order now. I’m happy to have discovered this poem. Thanks for sharing and Happy Account Anniversary.

Sincerely,

Brian
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

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12
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
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Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary Lou-Here By His Grace Author Icon ~

This review was started awhile back, so now finish. I enjoyed the concept, construct and central metaphor at work with your well woven poem, "Spinning a Web of DeceitOpen in new Window.. Just as an immediate reaction to the finish with my first read through. You do well to summarize and echo the key elements of the poem. My humble opinion, for what it’s worth, is to edit more and polish this gem.

I see things at first glance that could lend improvement, making for further clarity and brevity in these expressions. The first verse is visual and stimulating to this reader, for my mind’s eye can visualize and quickly assess the fresh take on spinning a web of decit, just as a spider traps its food. In this, on one with love to harvest. Essentially, a narcissistic to sociopathic leaning into holding dominion over another. A theme I’m often aware I could become a victim of, if I don’t proceed with caution.

But, love is naive, throws caution to the wind. It is blind to these traps and realization comes late.

First verse:
Dirty legged spiders
Crawl slowly through
The reality of our relationship,
Slowly spinning.
Spin-spinning away
Creating a web of deceit.

The Description is decidedly creepy. Gives visual that I’m sure would make some shudder. I wondered if there is singularity or if spiders plural can embody that, as with things that clue us in to the trap? The end was too on the nose. I like description over being plainly told ‘deceit’. You could end on web, or even something more obtuse that describes and connects the construct and its impending goal with a little foreboding in this layout to give the narrator more emotion or connection to this? Maybe, I’m obtuse. Hopefully I can employ my reaction more concretely going forward.

The next verse intrigued, but was maybe needing a better description than ‘March forth’ which feels like ants, getting away from characteristics that both intone a spider’s movement akin to a manipulator. The second half references images of its unseemly but frail nature. As it tears, I couldn’t get a feel if this revealing about the ineffectiveness of the web, if more could be specifically implied.

What I’m thinking about at this point is progression and how revealations reveal before batting at those webs. If there are words that could focus on the quotes, perhaps show either what the narrator is seeing with the utterances to employ those hands in reaction. I think the two verses directly correlate and could boil down to one, keeping metaphor poignant and functional while employing imagery connected to the senses. This is transitional and most important to relate. I can take the leap that this trap will be spotted. The poem can be even more impactful and connect to readers who want to find something of themselves in there to see something transforming.

Which brings me to:
As I bat clinging cobwebs
Away from my face
And cringe at the image
Of being cocooned, entombed
By soft threads
That become the ropes
That moored me.

Sounds like someone’s nightmare or a video the tortured are forced to watch. I can accept a redirect to metamorphism, change. The aim being a beautiful butterfly. I believe this could be in spite of or because of the manipulation that gives light to a learned and experienced narrator, who can choose to steal the webs and transform oneself, rather than be devoured by receptor. Just a simpler and clearer reference could begin the process of bringing this home.

Other notes —
I don’t get a good visual imprint of this spider like entity, whether it be one individual or just a collection of references from experience building an allegory or tale with moral or revelation. Building a good setting from start, building emotion and a sequence or two through some well defined acts can be like a play, similar to five acts, thinking of each verse as an act. It’s almost there. It could be as far as Alice in Wonderland to other fables.

Now, that last verse is on point. I almost can imagine this narrator has tuned out while the hapless spider inducing other is spinning lies. It’s as if we become aware, as if an all-to-familiar scenario has embarked. The speaker is in control, offering door A or B here. Which feels very familiar. The narrator could leave, but maybe knows the consequences and for untold reasons will likely stay a little longer, knowing it’s non-threatening as yet. If anything, insulting. This can go in any direction. My takeaways, 1. No other options, stays over being alone or forced out to meet yet another scenario and repeat, 2 there’s a reason to stay that is greater than the ‘dirty’ trap, 3 mental conditioning into politeness or too nice to excuse oneself, 4 is likely, ironically, the true spider, the speaker outsmarted the ignorant deceiver to get what they want from this ‘relationship’. Like I said, the evaluating voice here is in control.

I deal with similar situations every day, know when I’m being used. It’s usually better than the alternative. But, manage to stick around too long and just stick it out. That’s how I relate. On a larger scale, the world post Machiavellian, pre-dystopian, every one is employing narcissistic traits for gain, because it is the (corporate) way (handbook on manipulation?). But the fabric of society tears. Fewer victims, maybe manipulators lose. I’m in the minority, happily hop in a web where I might still make do.

Sorry. This was a read and review I picked up from awhile back, just sitting in review tool. You’ve obviously stimulated this reader that relates.

Brian
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

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13
13
Review of The Warning  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
Dear Sumojo Author Icon ~

Very dark for humor, almost unsettling. For a flash fiction, you do well to create scene, conflict, resolution while giving character attributes through dialogue from a clinical psychologist/therapist with counsel to long-time agoraphobic. Again, written in 24 hours, with some minor punctuation miscues, it does functionally tell its story in under 300 words.

Looking at your item as inspiration produced from activity or exercise, the imagination is what one sees getting flexed here. For a reader of the fare, it’s obvious research or further knowledge could help this. If it were written as short filler, with enough attention to detail, I’m certain dark humor could be spun, if something like irony were added somehow.

If you were to rewrite, expand, I could suggest some things to try. (Or, just to consider to help layer your next write.) First, maybe Frank needs an actual irrational fear. Quite simply…dogs. A greyhound bus would seal that fate, as he has irrationally deduced or got a sign from the gods above. Any bus line with a moniker to symbolize with resultant fear will do, universal enough for readers to infer. You could give Frank a vision that obliquely describes bus with strange bus-like depictions (reaching here) like a metal dog with glass eyes, or chariot dog with fire in back, dog on rubber wheels, or a man piloting a forty-foot cur, etc.

Second, getting an agoraphobic this far out of the house on one call, especially at three years, is a bit of a sell to suspend a reader’s disbelief. I’d have to be sold on a nearing breakthrough. I discussed this with my wife while reviewing. We agree everything is in place but needs a little more or slightly different backstory to start. Like, “we’ve been making good progress (as to irritational trigger). Today, let’s try to just get a foot out the door.” Dialogue could be ‘you’ve never even seen (irrational fear symbol) outside’? Nope. Doc convinces him this much, and with diminishing hesitation, miraculously they’re celebrating…’I’m doing it’! Forgets fear, forgets traffic…and the same end.

You need more time on the above moment to slow pace, drag out a little longer. As flash fiction, there are edit opportunities to gain space to fill, like quick backstory summary (omniscient narrator), lose first call handler, just doc getting online. You could even begin mid session ‘so are we ready to do this?’ hooking reader from get-go. Then backfill (bring reader up to date), while it plays out to slow action with Frank’s hesitancy., and you might have additional space to end, unless making longer, like to further humor. Bounced a few thoughts off spouse and best I could come up with in five minutes is additional conversation with new person at end with doc to deliver extra humor. For instance: Doc is reeling from revelation, when the informant asks ‘who this is’? ‘Oh, I’m Frank’s doctor. I specialize in agoraphobics’. ‘Really? Huh, I guess that makes you really good at your job, or just bad’. And, if further…Pause…’Hey, my step-mom hasn’t been leaving the house. Suppose I could get your number/referral’?

Reaching, but you get the idea. Use any or all or none. Review has been fun to share with your story building process. Pace is important. He had hand on door, then outside, then gate in 10 seconds. If slowed, mid-story launch/hook, a foot out the door at first? Dialogue helps craft characters through manner of speech, but maybe framework intel enough to give fuller appreciation of scene in this context. Omniscient voice can describe just by tonality, but also character motives. I would need more of scene through that dialogue, if no omniscient eyes on this.

Overall, you did well. You’re braver than me. I can’t write to those particular prompts in a day, limited by imagination and personal experiences without those external influences like prompts with cues of constraint. A pleasure and obligation to review your short fiction.

Looking forward to more,

Brian Is…

WDC disAbility Writer’s Group
and I Write In 2025 Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.



My eyeballs are about to go offline…dry.


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14
14
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
Anniversary Reviews email siggie


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Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary The Ink Maiden~ Author Icon ~

I caught a glimpse at the poem "Beautiful Differences Open in new Window. among what few offerings of constructed words you share, and this compels me, but less from the secular presence imposed, but what the narrator draws as visions when disconnected from God, with observations all attributed to Him.

It’s tricky to wade through something described as genres Personal, Nature, Religious (in that order) where you present a poem that connects spirituality through sensory and visionary devices. Ultimately, as with developing prayer, we note observation of thankfulness for what most ordinarily take for granted. This accounting in your poem shows awe of nature and how it inspires foremost. It might suggest connection on a higher plain from life circumstance that many felt with being saved in some manner. God is in the works, but here his mention and capitalism of ‘Your’ (for me) do detract from what you describe or feel, thus, the Personal, Nature genres before owing this reverence to God. (Style book preference is lowercase for all personal pronouns, but this the personal choice to honor God, to show reverence. Stylebook says if done consistently, that matters most.)

The poem opens in address, and in this missive is a great framework for narrative to witness with the transcribed one-way transmission of thanks. Beyond that point, the poet seems to take God on a journey…a sort of, See? See what you made? And, it goes further to show us through Him, what that allows the speaker to feel…provided for, peace and safety from oppression. Many readers can draw their own connections, as with prayer, are minds can meditate, take journey to what’s in our hearts.

Because it is a short poem, the address reads heavily, and less attribution would help with focal,points,context, message. The summation, however, does not address when signing off. Perhaps, redistributing address here would help the reader. I know this is older. Few consider edit. Just a talking point. Definitely, giving more to the sparkling imagery can allows us to pay more attention, help put a reader in that scene, recall spirituality, visualize, and make connections with our own appreciation.

The summation in that final line is beautifully crafted and still shows reverence without additional attribution. It reads clean and serene and as an overall tone or mood for this offering speaks loudest to me. God is in the works of that line with subtlety, which is more impressive and impactful. Maybe, I could try…maybe show. Since prayer can come naturally for those who’ve immersed in it…

Lord, we thank you for this poem you have blessed and the writer who shares their devotion for you with a well-stated connection to nature and the living. The poem makes one aware of your presence, where you’ve designed and maintain the most wondrous artifice — earth, and our dwellings upon it. We have sinned against you daily, knowing your kindness and benevolence for forgiveness, bestowed on those who share your message. We are but human, from the fallen, ever striving to be like Him. These words the poet shares in a writer’s village as a token of appreciation can inspired others like me. I do not crave possession, nor dominion in this realm, but share a love of writing and reviewing, having learned by the guidance of others who intone your teachings. My wish is to further share joy and love of words, moving past my own visual limitations that cause frustration and doubt.

Be with those who can’t be with us, including those I’ve prayed for. No domain is ever as great as your kingdom. Care now for many I’ve known, including those who can’t join with me. It has been your will and I’m sorry for my failings, foremost to you. I pray the world heals from all violence, bloodshed, and wrongdoing that cause darker times. I pray for peace and harmony with struggles of Christianity at the core. I appreciate all you make possible, God, to grow these wings as writers, by faith and steadfastness spreading your word in the face of ignorance, foe, downtrodden and the complacent or absent, and many others who could yet know you.

In your name, we pray, Amen.


Your poetic offerings, either designed as adoration with thanks, or a gift for fellow writers, hits the mark, more than decidedly. Thanks for letting us get a glimpse, and praise this ability to lend feedback that others might know of the encouraging words out there. I take a cue from your poem to give myself even better context of my life arrangement, how I share and where I can nurture myself to be stronger, as yet meek, proponent of all the teachings ascribed since a childhood, thanks to s strong parent. Each day, I feel a little closer to peace, as days dwindle. I’d rather be about it than speak about, feeling safe sharing my words here.

All of this, inspired by words you crafted and hopefully will be found by others through shared appreciation of nature, romanticism, and by whatever faith chosen that allow eyes, as mine, to hopefully see those in need, help them know I am welcoming


God bless,

Brian
disAbility Writer’s Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

Image #2338951 over display limit. -?-

Not a crusader but defender of faith, and however that presents whenever misunderstanding or inability to openly communicate are in doubt.



“…(B)eautiful and dying and yet still trying to be free.”

From “Cyclical” —no link as yet available. It’s about preserverance and devotion.


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15
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Review of Conflict  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
A review for the conflicted and the afflicted.

Dear John Quarles Author Icon,

I missed sending this review during your first account anniversary here last month.

Your sub-text of Conflict is evocative and provokes a reader to consider. I revisit this and my review, lacking time to give true introspect. This title line offers framework for the subject/theme of something of an enduring debate, “A conflict of the mind, between empathy and apathy.” My 2 cents, right off, is the sincerity factor. What feelings seem innate, against how much is conforming to elemental narratives that surround with support, negativity or silence? People are conditioned to give false empathy that passes off as pity, because they couldn’t possibly comprehend or be in any other shoes than their own. I commend you for tackling a worthy subject while mire in its folklore tar that becomes difficult to separate from.i tried a Br’er Rabbit thing there.

The title of your item offered for review, gave me all notions of ideas about how this subject reveals. Having consumed, and seeing this as a conversation with oneself, I first thought of a mirror. This could lead to titles like mirrored thoughts? It could also take your title ‘conflict’ and project it further. I was thinking of it including in parentheses with the word ‘inner’ that could lead into conflict.

Truly, the conflict doesn’t reveal as much as these revelations that seem to wind up repeatedly. I would also imagine these discussions with oneself become more enlightened as time goes on. With the enlightenment, there comes more confusion rather than answer. There seems to be a call to action and that is for empathy to fill the void in the emptiness that might be described as conflict with life or the world and all people who don’t ascribe in it.

Another way might be to feel motherless. Who else can show empathy than one who sprang from her loin. It might be a misconception to believe all mothers have empathy. As a child we have seen it employed, even projected outward toward others. Someone might have a mother like my own, who was a friend to everybody. She would go out of her way to make sure that I was happy. But I was also ignorant as a child. I did not view life with the correct lens. I see her love more like sympathy or pit now, which had confused me about how love operates.

A person becoming an adult, without that proper lens, might seem a little strange to others without proper correction. And if a person has an undiagnosed mental disorder because mother could not see the need to get said child help, you have a person who can be a problem for society. However, where empathy lacked, empathy I feel can be learned. Living through ignorance, hate and pity, I started to connect with others with familiar emotions demonstrated. It makes one want to give of themselves to the whole, selfishly feeling it will heal oneself…but only with the correct lens.

In society, unwritten rules and unknowable authority further confuse one with empathy to share. So these ponderings I’ve read come to me as lived emotions, and got this initially just from a titleline. This is my fourth attempt with edits to end review. The reason why this is going to be long, is low vision, poor editing tools, impatience. This community while making an effort to improve its appearance, has font that is too small for this reviewer. And, as I am challenged while encouraged to review properly, make use of a thing called review tool, for upgraded account, words store until ready to tackle again. This is not my best.

After reading your item, shaped like poetry meeting dialogue, with much pacing, a strange question came to me… “can a person feel empathy for themselves?“ Self-love is more important than serving the needs of others. How would one be strong enough to help another, if not strong themself? I liken this piece of yours to a person talking to the mirror, asking the routine questions about indifference and the lack of empathy. I know it doesn’t require sympathy or pity, which are the common applicators. It is forthright and very revealing, and does not mask anything as a notion of something one way or the other. It’s almost as if it’s affirmations with an ending that doesn’t fit the entire conversation. And yet it does, because it will continue the following day with similar revelations, or the same feelings, emerging about how one still finds themselves alone, but still wanting the betterment of apathetic society.

What you write typifies a person who commonly arrives at a social interaction where they can leave comment, receive none and after 11 months have not posted since joining. This is not ironic at all. It is just the norm for where we reside. Waves of people like ourselves wash on the WDC shore, seek refuge in divulging feelings through words. Finding angels once upon a time. Try to find a way to be a contributor to said community. And think that you’re going to get ahead with writing endeavors, all the time ignoring the mirror. The mirror comes in forms like others reflecting your thoughts. Many can’t relate, some are false, most don’t care to opine. Most, indeed, lack empathy, but do invoke pity and sympathy.

And this search for mother, quite possibly the only person that can feel empathy for you…Sorry, dad…continues, without a mirror. This item doesn’t get too personal. Not personal enough. Which… is good. You shouldn’t have to give away anything or everything about yourself, publicly, to be a part of society. It took me a long time to learn that I can keep a journal in private. But, it’s long past that and there’s nothing private to journal that I would keep online here. But would, personally, on my computer. So what is the purpose of writing down these feelings that look like a person looking to the mirror to see the only other person that feels empathy? The question, is there an outward projection in society with empathy for others? Do they dare speak? There could be this underlying feeling one feels compelled to be empathetic because of the lack of it and or a need for it. But, I think it’s a need for it, by demonstrating in writing, being sought in this lonely dialogue.

The compulsion to fill in where something valuable is lost seems noble, and you’d think respected. It becomes expectation, as bars rise higher, after offer. It gets one hurt even further. Trust is needed before empathy can be shared. Empathy is reserved for one special. In the end, the empathetic are trapped by their own feelings and all the struggles to empathize when ignorance, indifference or hate might apply. Frankly, most fon’t expect or want it. That’s why self-love is important, saves us with our own empathy.

Thanks for this, helping me consider and improve, hopefully, how I read, deconstruct, learn and share these frank thoughts. I have no compunction about being honest, if I can fully realize what that is while separating what people don’t expect to hear, or need shared.

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writer’s Group Reviewer
I’m blind, not disabled.



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16
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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
Review for a poem that reminds of the importance of self-love, to care for oneself (when mom is not there, a poem exists).

Dear Michelle Author Icon ~

Wow! I have not seen a poem like this before. From the first look I'm drawn in and a bit mesmerized by a structure that looks like art and lovely. I previously reviewed a poem by you and referenced this, which I took further time to give consideration before feedback.

My first actual response: Within "My Child You Are Beautiful" reveals a hidden rhyme scheme that naturally sews up form, keeps the poem evenly paced and easy to read with soft and not harsh sounding rhymes. It's made me consider consonant sounds when offering something to the rhythm of a piece. Here you are encouraging a child to love themself from the inside. It's an assured voice that is touching in what it relates not only to child, but reader.

In one sense, I read a self-soothing mantra, a voice we create to induce calm with a motherly love. Too many times I’m deluded by TV and movies that this whisperer culling the calm is actually a villain. It’s hard to get that image of deceit from my head. Obviously, not the intent here. What makes the narrative voice special is we can self-heal. The poem pace with precision uses even sentences that contribute instruction to let oneself relax, too tense in a waves or layers of comfort.

The purpose of the poem from titleline is straightforward. Makes me think of a good mom, well-intentioned to help a child with body issues. And the other side of the coin is a father’s tough love (not in poem, but a drawn parallel). We learn early our parents have our back, but can’t always be there. We accept life is cruel; we eventually can’t hide from all that awaits, as there is something greater waiting beyond a child world. Self-reliance becomes important.

Mantras like these are important. The words, the rhythms teach us to be our own parents, take care of the child inside. It thwarts a society that knows of our ills, guilt, sins and weaknesses that could be exploited for many reasons, to turn self-perception on ourselves. It goes beyond cruel, as parents fade over time. A child can learn from well-meted phrases of self-comfort to quickly heal over a lifetime, grow a backbone, and stare down any foe that nears.

I like, “every stitch in your body has been perfectly sewn.” It’s emboldening. It could overfeed an ego that is weak, requires a certain kind of compliance to believe, but the expression is meant to lift that boulder burdening one fed negative images of oneself. The poem seems the best vehicle to reconsider in times of loneliness through isolation or lack of integration. This poem salves wounds and begins that process. Another side of this narrative could lie a paternal voice that demonstrates how to exist as Teflon and steel. Stoicism is a valuable asset.

Your poem and these tenets remind, we can be self-reliant. We can self-repair. We can persist in a world that seeks nothing but to enslave us, rather that allow individualism amid the whole. And, we are not the broken, but the ones who cast insults that need our pity in reply. Those are some broken people. Your message does well not to address external but internal factors. It relies on self-perception, as with a self-imagine. I see the inspiration for this, and likely a trait passed down that can continue, generation after generation. Do the tormentors forget or lack the teachings of their mothers when they addle, torment and refuse others, just so they can release frustration and feel better about themselves?

More thoughts I draw from having reading your Psalm to calm, I try to find a voice here to self-soothe.

Child, you know you are beautiful. I see beauty and perfection, as only your parent can. The world has cruel eyes, but it’s also broken. What is not broken, is you. A heart pure, beautiful, wondrous, all the days butterflies sought, scanning the sky for unicorns. You are unique and special. Take your hand; pretend it is mine. Rub the backside of your other hand. Feel it’s tenderness. Slowly, gently apply pressure and massage your skin how I do. Do you feel me there with you now? Do you know who is loving and caring for you? It’s the hand on that hand that gives a clue, as it is you. No one gets between you and yourself. No one tells you who you are, but you. If they deny you, abandon you, let them go. You have you. And, when the world sees you smile. They can’t deny it. Because you are for you. And that is not selfish, bragging or boasting. If you believe in yourself, others will believe, too. Spread this message of love, but guard it carefully. It is only what I give that you can give to you.

Parents can rock! Thank you for the reminder, demonstrating so I can also find words to self-soothe.

All the best,

Brian.
WDC disAbility Writer’s Group Reviewer.

I’m blind, not disabled.

Image #2295965 over display limit. -?-




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17
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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
Dear Michelle Author Icon

OMG, my heart as I was reading down that road, knowing the last word because of the word it would have to rhyme with. It had two directions to go as it started out but it became obvious near middle to end, this was not about giving up a child or having it taken away. I was moved by such a sad yet touching poem that I could feel something very personal and difficult to share in that speaker's use of language...in a poem that is fully developed with emotion, sense of loss, inability to have that true connection to the adored one with affection.

I've heard it said that a heart that is broken is unfortunate, but what's beautiful is it holds together with the love we lose but still hold onto. Perhaps, we romanticize or imagine a future from past with the fictional. Often we consider them with angels, or as our angels but cared for. All of this comes to mind when I note this read. It's short, with long lines that could bend or break another way, but what's holding it together is the rhythm of the read, the word that plays off of another to drive that second point. A rhyme scheme that could fully hold together but have some ideas of ways that can be repaired, though it is up to the author and the visionary who truly knows what should be said. I can only interpret from my perspective what I learned from this poem. And did I the previous poem of yours I visually and auditoralially consumed.

A pleasure to consider your offerings that I might lend feedback.

Sincerely,

Brian.
disAbility Writer’s Group Reviewer

I’m blind, not disabled.



*Gold* My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!Open in new Window..
18
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Review of Joyful Butterfly  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (4.5)
Dear Jo Paynter Author Icon

Surprise ending with this one and not sure if it applies or if it could be introduced with foreboding to give a reader a framework for this marvelous, imagery filled story that really comes to life with some great word choices to illuminate a reader's imagination.

"Joyful Butterfly," singular, seems to be about the speaker who perhaps feels as one, possibly going through a transformative process and the spectrum of yellow butterflies happily going about their business in that neck of the woods is something that inspires the narrative.

If it is some kind of sign one looks for, it is assured rare and beautiful. It is serendipity, but also treated as sign to symbolize something that anyone can relate to, but about what? We can attribute our own experiences and feelings of awe for nature. We know the days of no luck getting that prize fish, or whatever we angle for. It's an unexpected gift that means so much more, reaching deep into the psyche at one's existentialism.

A pleasure to come across someone new with poetry to share.

Sincerely,

Brian
disability Writer’s Group Reviewer

God tells me where to look, and lo and behold a new writer with such great gifts!
I'm looking forward to more in the future.

I’m blind, not disabled.



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19
19
Review of My Thoughts  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
Dear Sumojo Author Icon ~

Some powerful imagery that connect to emotions related to social interactions with intrusive questions. It strikes as a very important issue in a world ever prying to get at something that goes beyond a casual encounter. This, may be the latter. But, I’ll project to show parallels found to a pathology of modern day intrusion.

What I’m noting is how you notate opening interrogatory and the following response. You start with the bold black font to open, it’s implies bad or menacing, a very overpowering influence that may be seeking compliance. The response, like a Buffalo Stance, isn’t giving in. But, you speaker is contemplating, noting ‘despise’, making me if they know each other. It doesn’t feel threatening in a physical sense, lacking supporting images. This helps shift to the ever-present psychology behind invasion of one’s privacy.

It feels compelling forces know they can work one over that might have a tell, an area of weakness. Maybe, just by bullying, more artlessly, getting at what they’re thinking. How you demonstrate this open line, to be stoic, yet as reader, feel the shift to finally open up as a result of coercion. To better demonstrate, some imagery that adds to the interrogatory persistence might help a reader feel and relate to a feeling of a persisting burden.

The respondents redirect of eyes to sky shows a veiled weakness. But, the hesitation to respond and consider, before offering a reply that lends nothing to the party of the first part, shows intelligence and patience. But, when these sorts who meddle with others assert, if they’re working an angle, fishing for something, they won’t quit, especially the narcissists.

So, while this could be just an intimate relationship, the overall message feels like intrusion on privacy in a surveillance state. We slowly lose freedoms, like privacy, identity to thieves, or basic freedoms that should be guaranteed. It’s not like any restraining order will be forthcoming, the way I read. This is essentially need to keep one’s sanity.

Your unusual poem goes right back to some very telling inner thoughts. It’s showing mental torture from predators allowed to prey with seemingly innocent questions. In this scenario, it seems tone of the interrogator’s voice is enough to feel intimidation, as yet without physical depiction. This is a psychological and social commentary that need be heard, might be intoned, if people are listening or watching communications.

The inner dialogue represented here is a person made to feel prisoner in their own mind. They know the presence and this intrusion are leading somewhere. This can be handled with the expression, “I feel unsafe.” This appears one-on-one, but seems a systemic issue where most who pry all play from the same narcissist handbook. It’s actually very simple, making these sorts seem pathetic.

Narcissism calls the shots, controls narratives, squeezes you when you try to escape, plays rope-a-dope when one fights back. Everything intimated vaguely they try to get one to infer. That’s where their narrative can apply. Many in society are lambs being lead to some slaughter. I feel a lamb that is trying to be defiant, knows what’s at stake. However, having no game to outwit, that a lamb can’t outlast these basic bullies. They don’t have the fortitude of those nosy busybodies.

This is a scenario where anything you give, even if silence, is connotated as something. The impossible is getting them to relent, admit another’s narrative, nor will allow defeat. They are the writers of false gossip, idles lies, that further the struggles of one cut off, isolated, made to feel alone. In comes the gaslighting. It’s very telling from this introspect you’ve portrayed.

They have a way of reading body language, aversion to assemble notions of fears and weaknesses that a lamb can be trapped by. Society is devolving into dehumanization, becoming wolves, destroying the fabric of community, the mantle of trusted friendship. And, what I see here is someone talking themself into non-compliance, but then, ta-da! We get the ending.

You intrigue with, “You wouldn’t want to know.” I could feel a table turn. Just to end on that, give a reader pause, I wonder if the inquisitive one is stalled, too.

Truly, physically, only the speaker of this poem demonstrates. The poem itself could reveal, but it’s only inner dialogue shared with reader friends. It shows a kind of safety to get the questioner to infer. They have to ask if some subterfuge with that last comment you’ve offered. Ending on it is the statement. Is it a bluff, is there really something they don’t want to hear? The latter, me thinks.

This can read as a relationship on the rocks. This could be fantasized dialogue undelivered, or there may be work, other interpersonal dealings that produce this. And, but not giving it context, just letting the inner workings air out, many can relate to being preyed upon. Here, I find the speaker now holds the power through the ambiguous. It’s the best you might be able to do in the face of these interferringbtypes.

There’s a lot to unpack from this. It’s very relevant today. It’s so hard to pinpoint or define. The lambs that complain get labeled, told get over it by intermediaries who should know. This is a tactic employed by more every day, outside of home: at work, in a social dynamic or hang out, at a place where something additional is sold from fries to extra insurance. Greed will bleed us dry of not only money, but sanity.

What you composed is universal, is applicable and what many feel as a perversion to interrupt our daily lives with emails, texts and robocalls. The level of noise getting higher inside the minds of the meek, downtrodden and troubled. It was supposed to be reserved for police interrogation, instead teaching people to be evasive, better liars, more deceptive, pass those polygraphs, to get security of mind and identity, to stay calm.

Thus, society is becoming insensitive, less availing, discourteous, negatively impacted by the persistence for information they have no right to compel another to fork over. Unsafe, unsafe I say.

This is a well thought and displayed Imaginary dialogue that has roots in society that extend out and beyond. It’s very compelling to me. Put them on notice. Our personal information is not to be sold to third party types. What if one steals our identity. Safe-guarding can be unknowable, until you test to see who your friends are. It can be assumed it’s none, just for that sanity, leaving us isolated. Blame politics in America, too. We’re divided while our parents fight.

Great job! I tout this. Let’s get back to humanizing and stop defaming people you shouldnt extort. All criminally prosecutable, by the way. And let them know, apologies are accepted without preface, if played right. Stalemate is the best you get, unless…they aren’t the narcissist. *Shock2* *Bigsmile* If nothing else, they might shut up. *Delight*

Nailed it,

Brian
disAbility Writers Group
and I Write in 2025 Reviewer

If any don’t agree, don’t credit this review. I’m for honest, not deceitful, discourse. I’m for human rights and NOT the privileged…or the constant hypocrisy, easily checked, yet none do. Cowards or no one have their back. Cover me. I’m going in! Area is clear. That’s a wrap. *shrug*


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20
20
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: 13+ | (4.5)
Anniversary Reviews email siggie


*CakeB* HAPPY WDC ACCOUNT ANNIVERSARY!!! from "Anniversary ReviewsOpen in new Window.*CakeP*
Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary GERVIC Author Icon ~

Alone in the dark, fear and nerves are tested. If it were sunny, or temperate, Hope might survive. The thought of snow either day or night presents some very romantic visions in nature. This poem and your approach to narrate in rhyming form can feel a bit Shakespearean, relate to commonality with readers. I think you could go further, directly referencing oneself. A reader drafts an image from their own bias to relate to these vocalized projections.

If it were me, I’d take whatever I wanted to write about from any prompt and try fly solo in my own direction while still mindfully fulfilling rules of activity. I had read “Embracing the Dark” once through, finding a narrator monologuing openly, but to no one in particular. Might be self-monologuing, if to envision. It ends with a message like beware. When I saw the prompt, I felt I needed to reread more carefully. I can’t make a case for lying to oneself, or if it is even poem intent. I find there can be different interpretations of words or theme applied as opportunity to spread my wings, thus reinterpret the prompt word ‘Lying.’ I could just introduce narrator to ground, pontificating the perils. The elements we lay with, observe, personify, or spiritualize could bring heavy weight to the burdened narration/speaker. And, contrasting night, in same scene, lying in sun, lying in snow, and how much different the voice might sound in a psychological approach. I found a poem that can’t be knowable, yet relatable. It’s how we interpret when we read that connects us.

You separate us from all the living with poetry, remove oneself, barely offer a pronoun. A feel of being alone, guarded by a dying flashlight. It can seem surreal and make even scarier, if describing a thing in a horror play. Many could view life as unending horror. To be alone in it, couldn’t imagine how others might survive. It is eerie, but the message is embracing your fear. In dark, sightless, we must trust, find our inner strength of convictions, beliefs, and righteousness. Coping becomes a skill over time. Fear never relents. I find these questions with message to have resolve. I have it in spades.

I note style, voice over message, because it disconnects, feels theatrical, as if in Hamlet’s sub-cioncious where some part of him might yell, ‘just shut up already’! It’s a tragedy. We can be our own worse enemy with self-doubt. Lucky sociopaths. *Laugh* I enjoyed the poem. Happy Anniversary this month. Thought I’d drop in and give one of your offerings some feedback with a good word.

All the best,


Brian
disAbility Writers Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

Image #2337000 over display limit. -?-
Sorry, review rambled a bit. Picked it up again after a few days away.

*DoorBr*


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21
21
Review of A Love Within  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
In affiliation with disABILITY WRITERS GROUP  Open in new Window.
Rated: E | (5.0)
Anniversary Reviews email siggie


*CakeB* HAPPY WDC ACCOUNT ANNIVERSARY!!! from "Anniversary ReviewsOpen in new Window.*CakeP*
Celebrating your writing this month with a review.


Happy Account Anniversary Legendary❤️Mask Author IconMail Icon ~

One flower, a powerful symbol of love and how one has beauty in a romantic soul to share. This is adorable. Yeah. I couldn’t decide what inspired this approach to create but for contest. If there were additional notes, it’s nice sometimes to see prompt or general motivation. Obviously, it serves as a romantic appliance, and get the special someone. The single image gives me pause, when I consider an approach to poetry that gets right to it.

I would be the one who knows the ache, longing. Just the title-line alone exudes feelings, does well to framework this offering. The conciseness and decided approach here, one image, one utterance, can strike when the sixth line drops. This could work for many lovers, on different levels, including the engagement and the ‘do-over’, adapted, could fit anniversary. Here, you offer as Valentine. It could be for one day, to not feel lonely, an opening to something more, or that long awaited declaration to free oneself of lonely love purgatory and seek out heaven in another.

A rose braves elements and is thorny, guarded. A single rose as gift represents entirely different, symbol for one’s heart, capacity to love. The offering can be a powerful message, if not too much. With a simple stance on love with what feels like a tender promise is just the right amount for new love. Commitment is a big thing.

The last line for me is a throw away, if making the poem a gift to reader, to show bravery, steadfastness in an honest confession. Perfectly fine as note, otherwise. You deliver on five lines a preface to a sixth line summation, with question and head turner, if not tipped off. It surprised me. This is the value of condensing to the essence the very aim and heart of a thing.

I’m no rom-com expert (yes, I am), but this feels as great revelation in an element of surprise. This, poem as stated, would no doubt ease tension, break conflict, or just be the happily ever after moment. In my mind, all sorts of actors in all kinds of scenarios from boombox to knee, are delivering these lines to make us clutch our hearts.

So, well done. Thank you for your generous heart. May it find a love to cherish. Happy Anniversary! *Rose*

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writers Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

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How were my personal pronouns? I’m asea at times to see life with broader perspective.


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22
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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Happy Account Anniversary GERVIC Author Icon ~

This is a fun read, full of imagery, but also the psychological, making me wonder if one narrative voice, or how to perceive it.

The first line, a visual, personifies what lay on shelf. A Robin’s egg? *BigSmile* *Think* The whole verse devoted to opening scene. I could only assume what to visualize, so googled ‘speckled’ in baking terms. You know, I never knew thst. But, I see it now, but was confused. I plug that in. I know the baking pans for my zucchini bread very well. They are stressed and don’t keep their form anymore. Know it so well, it feels it belongs to mother. These visuals and the potential interaction within form, harmonize. It’s also like a thinly veiled story that includes intro to characters, the presumed action in building a recipe, the subconscious conflict with doubt, the unfinished mix lay in wait and we cut to end with a call to action, if not encouragement through morality play. Like serve your banana bread today.

This also speaks to spirituality. Building that banana bread mystery brings visions depicted, it also gets overwhelming. Does the baker like the poet create a fun little ditty while going through this process, like outside of oneself. The spices and other devices are personified and yet not, lacking lifelike ability. So, the narrative shifts from monologuing while baking before admitting self-doubt, psyched themself out. Then, it lands with a narrator responding after all this unfolds, such as a movie trailer narrator with essentially, ‘Will the bread bake or not?’ And if at the end of the sitcom ‘Soap’, “tune in next week to find out.”

Ultimately, this play with speaker, scene and words is entertaining, adds spice (I went for it.) But, this is what I do while walking through the house, “will Brian take out the trash or get distracted with writing?” Essentially referring to oneself in third person, using a higher art form to inform reader. I use all voices, mimic, sing, whatever moves. This is like a poem coming to life. Making a saga from attempting to mix and bake bread comes from an imaginative mind. It had to be produced in a day to qualify for The Cramp, perhaps furthering the spirit of words at play.

There are questions, despite knowing this feels surreal, if not something cooked up (went there again), did the bread get made? Why does the speaker fear, assuming failure. Probably not necessary to answer the second. It’s more about word play. If I didn’t stumble over baking pan, I might have had this right out of the gate.

So, reflecting, that final stanza feels like a self pep talk, with respect to the banana bread, the ultimate gift of its arrival, described as perfectly made. In a way, cliffhanger. A reader went for the ride, the poem being more about the journey, the experience, conflicted with ‘what if it isn’t just right’, my interpretation. It’s a reader’s choice how the poem unfolded. This had rhythm and flow. A sweet read (last time). Happy to have viewed to lend feedback.

Good job!


Brian
disAbility Writers Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

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Did what I could to make this readable, with editing and vision issues. Also, no sleep since I woke at 8:51 last night. Happy Anniversary!


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Review of An Irish Lassie  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: ASR | (5.0)
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Happy Account Anniversary JACE Author Icon ~

Finally, a limerick I can get on board with. That fourth line got a hardy chuckle. What can one say about limericks other than this is exactly the kind of rhythmic five line poem that’s intended. You have good rhythm/flow, proper syllabization. It’s even got a flair for the Irish. It adds verve, getting the authentic vernacular and flavor that adds sass to the sassy lassie.

Of course, the lead in with, “There once was a…” and I thought, ‘here we go’. It’s not Chaucer, but seems the fare. It doesn’t feel forced, relays imagery with anecdote that plays on the woman’s pride of her figure. You could get that feel of a bar setting, the confidence that really is the sass.

I had my own response when I read this, recalling a time when I was with my parents. My dad looked out the truck and blurted, “short wheelbase.” I was puzzled and there was a discussion about a woman he was commenting about. When I put it together, asked mom why she let him get away with that. They had an agreement, ‘he could look, but not touch’. Ha, “short wheelbase.” The story was funnier when I got older, never tire of recalling it. It’s a change-up from his usual demeanor.

This was well done. I’m sure the kind that can fill slotted space in many types of men’s reading to something for women. It really is liberation and confidence that intone character and a clever little ditty. I think it’s publishable, if it hasn’t been in print by now.

A belated account anniversary,


Brian
disAbility Writers Group
and Account Anniversary Reviewer

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24
Review of Where's Grimm?  Open in new Window.
Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (4.0)
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Happy Account Anniversary Bearclaw Author Icon ~

Some activities just don’t get the writer juices flowing. Feels uninspired or abandoned with this, but I was curious about the prompt(s) and if it was too much information that restricted creative direction that limited your output. I try to pinpoint some stuff that bubbled up, googling questions after consuming your offering.

I did get a glimpse of how Grim might facilitate a death transaction (do his job), it’s more folklore and left to imagination within the confines of a few boundaries to weave one’s story into the word I lean into “trope” to see what actions or traits to perform his task, and this was the first result:

Just like other psychopomps, the Grim Reaper's job is to escort departed souls to the afterlife. The Reaper doesn't necessarily take a soul to Heaven, Hell, or any other religious afterlife. It simply helps the recently-deceased cross the boundary between this life and whatever's on the other side.

His (It’s) connection to Christianity, while lacking in reference, might take on biblical sub-headings of his role as some of the personified images from the Bible, which is realized with this AI response.

The Grim Reaper, as a cultural figure, isn't explicitly mentioned in the Bible. However, the concept of death is personified in the Bible through various representations, including the Angel of Death (Job 18:13) and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Revelation 6:7-8). The Pale Horseman, which represents death, is named Thanatos, the Greek personification of death.


The prompt question seems silly, but one that many consider as a form of satirical conversation. If Grim doesn’t report to work. This aligns with Santa Claus theory, there’s only one. Because children can’t conceive reality, offering additional Santas to serve is quashed until doubting innocence precociously seeks evidence or grow up and give up the belief. Same should be said about Death. I could google to see if it’s implied only one, or if people went overboard on the personification. But, Santa is a spirit of goodwill/happy anticipation, while Grim seems embodiment of guide to afterlife/not a happy anticipation.

Your story quick settles on a dying man reporting he’s not ready to go. This creates many stories where people try to cheat death. Per the prompt, Death might take permanent holiday. The complexity of the question could cause one to wonder about all the dying, if eternally suffering without escape, overflowing hospitals that run out of beds. Attempts to kill one to take them out of their misery doesn’t work, as they all go into coma, etc. Death beds will be where they reside at home.

It’s too complex as prompt to inspire a story that gives weight to something serious, possibly humorous. If you invoke cynicism, you could give Death a voice and escape the mundane, if this piece deserves resurrection and another life (since likely no longer anticipated for whatever activity to provoke this last fall).

Another way to go is if woken into consciousness, Grim Reaper personified becomes sentient, rather than just being a personified entity about it. Existential crisis could be a way to go, though having no soul or a life to recall, perhaps something seen or heard gives him belief he could do more as an undying one. The subplot of the 2021 movie, “Nobody” comes to mind when an ‘auditor’ for an arm of government spycraft is sent to end someone who pleads for a second chance because he’s got a new family now, checks on him in a year, discovers the guy was sincere, and this agent decides that’s what’s been missing, turns in his resignation in favor of a family life that is successful until, he’s drawn back into taking down a bad guy after trying to find something intruders took from his home. A bit much for parallel, movie made by same people that produced John Wick.

This is what I consider when I see your offering and how the wheel spin lead to it getting stuck by leaving it with an open quotation mark at end. That last symbol would be a great device to get a reader to stop and want to know what happens next. The beauty of it causes a reader to devise ending, possible outcomes up to our own existential questions about why it should be of importance…say, if it were the last complete novel offered for publication when a writer disappears as Salinger, eaten up with guilt like Truman Capote, or just dies with manuscripts unfinished that leave editors in quandary, but cobble two novels together.

I get all of this and could go further. This is part response with reaction/suggesions, this iis part investigation of what subject matter and prompts and how fiction weaves into an element of Grimm Brothers moral-lacking, or mono-moral, folklore. It’s too bad I’m not in college, I could have five thesis's to follow and hammer out. *Think*(How many doctoral could I have just from reviewing here? *Scroll* 👨‍🎓 Exactly, none. Sloppy work.

I round up to four stars, because this opens something between Pandora’s box and mystery of Schrödinger’s cat, as we can presume what exists and what therein should reside, and if we want to continue down a path that ends in nothing substantial as output, as some fated reviews of an offered item that has been gripping less a ledge since last year, but more an idle spot in the backyard where moss growth inches closer. It just hit me, and in writing, we personify inspiration as something comes from muses, though very loose and medievally antiquated.

Better luck with the next.

Good writing to you,

Brian
disAbility Writers Group
WDC Account Anniversary Reviewer
Loose assembler of thoughts in abyss

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25
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Review by Brian K Compton Author IconMail Icon
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Happy Account Anniversary Pumpkin Author Icon,

This is very moving as revelation, taking this reader through a personal but sensibly handled experience of losing a lifelong partner. I can’t imagine losing such an integral part of my life where I depend on my spouse for many things I find difficult, but also as someone who brought his brother’s ashes home to his grieving wife. I share similarly this grief, reminded of a brother who was a second dad — how his four weeks fighting fatal and irreparable medical issues with only concern for those he would leave, before hospice and giving her over 72 more hours to prepare.

There is a natural ability here to relate this information I see recently edited, after this item was offered here nearly 14 years ago. You walk a reader through the paces, the beneficial knowledge of the image of grieving in the four time periods. My sister-in-law was practical, helping my brother through 15 years with many life threatening scenarios before final peace. Her ability to let him go, selling off or giving away his stuff right away, allowed many considerations for those struggling with his loss. Your experience helps me connect dots. I got a better view in her shoes.

Music was the go to, knowing it all too well from the days I babysat and they were separated. They were solid after that and while concerned by the Eric Carmen song while helping her reorganize her life, it’s what she played when they were apart. Weeks before his passing, she stayed with us while he was in the hospital. I cooked, baked family recipes. I could tell it helped. Going it alone would seem miserable and take grit, knowing the awkward behaviors of repressed individuals who can’t share their feelings. I say, just be confident in yourself when preparing for someone who’ll grab you when they need to grieve most. It’s availability.

You use images, sensory to connect us in familiar ways. Scented cologne was a nice touch. I could smell my dad on his clothes. Much of life that makes sense came from tv and film for me. This makes complete sense. On the other side, there is an element missing, interactions with children, brothers and sisters, the ones closest. Your approach helped facilitate those awkward ones who did what they could, which wasn’t much. It feels like a lone alpha how I read, as it seems you gave them an outlet, or just an out. Takes strength.

And in the end, it’s true — we’re fond of the memories shared that helps pain subside, if only for moments at a time…whether a sudden passing or one that helped prepare/pave the way for acceptance. I eulogized my parents and brother with the same message, gone but not forgotten. In fact, still with us. He’s in our eyes, our hearts and shared stories. The lost are larger than life people, in some respects. Families become tighter knit after loss, my brother being the largest hole to fill. It also reminds of co-dependency, having to be a whole person again which might be the biggest task. My wife claims I won’t know how to take care of things/family by myself in the event she passes. What you don’t relate, still helps me realize estate planning and more.

Thank you for sharing a very personal experience and allowing others an opportunity to consider, help prepare a little. Or, just to put a reader further down that road to recovery from their loss. Thanks for being a part of this writing community.

Sincerely,

Brian
disAbility Writers Group
and WDC Account Anniversary Reviewer

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