- Last seen on May 8 7:30 PM 2007. Member since July 23, 2006.
- I am a 39 year old person (United States)
- I have 25 comments
My other items
1 - 3 of 363
Show all
- I think I forgot some at allpoetry
your smile ripples on my lips / oh shyness is not nested / statue is not tasted / these cheeks move because of his / oh could kindness spread back - very different, however at allpoetry
a fingernail was shred / pushed between thumb and index / for violin flicks / of a full piece yet / like I made a wig from another cut keratin - happy one two at allpoetry
a kiss of child / the dance of laughter / and hair is felt longer on shoulders / sun rays charcoaled / is not cold of black forced moved shadow / but pieces of a hair trim fall on paper for picture / fresh c
Visitor Book
Comments
1 - 4 of 25
Show all
-
-
on Haiku (The taste...) by Jack Kerouac, on March 11, 2007
a dash by what we can't stash?
The amusing sentence was accomplished to me by sending out laughter when it can be emotional. Lighting for it was in how we have heart not just with sunshine but balance. By this, a verse pops in mind about such provisions being put forth to both choices of what type of people we want to be, short-term temptingly thought or grateful to find length. I wouldn't gather cynicalness from any of these lines, of coolness to be looked at without coldness.
There is too the resonance of maybe scooping a dip from a clear clean river so to speak as careful travelers have. -
on Admonition by Sylvia Plath, on March 5, 2007
tortuous though short
"Admonition" might not be in the style warming us to her going on at least celebrating an observation, but this is warning to just give the reader like a manual to not have a nullification of animals for a careless section, so an abbreviation that can lose its appreciation in the spreads, as said elsewhere .
I needed someone to sit me down tonight and point out something, and Sylvia Plath had that way, with a no not nonsense but everything not straightened. So, I think these are traits as well we can't be trist with by the straits. The first stanza has such delicate curtailing when getting something intact in isolation. And such oxymoronic events are on the earth with macro, micro, and mucho macho ways but mankind will have understaning by siding to not be the monster of menace but take the startle of how we're jointed for good, eco and own.
The second 4 lines go opposite from internal lovelies to externals but turns a stomach to hang that as a trophy of purpose of all to see only, like scalping personalities or literal taxidermists' results if empty acknowledgement went on the wall.
The last is without riddle to not just do autopsy but empathy for some study with true eagerness of existence, as my daughter says lala-ha. -
on Frolic In The Snow by Eliza Lee Follen, on March 4, 2007
timing, please
"Frolic In The Snow" has gregariousness that gets on the nerves as the first six lines are the the the that's finally summarized as samples of noise not just animals. It's again entailed twice as long for a thin hint of something's gotta give or there will be a coot in reaction.
The constant sharpness is felt with the short sentences that can also can have the alacrity of "frolic" but it's a rewritten emphasis when feeling left out or flooded, it's sponge spun. The the's got shorter from L15-21 with there occuring a barrage formidable for a review of beauty but near craziness through staying with such an extent that is stenciled by :
"Father is calling,
The cook is bawling"
in between fun on the margins.
I am not bunning up what "nabby" is but am being uncomfortable with the increase in the situation to see a fall of confindence. Not with one favored bing at a time.
It makes me think of music from John Adams which initially got response of a slap to each leg and gallop away
grab a horse or a violin
and feel alive for a little mile
then it's not traditional, for trades
the hills change the lyrics
just the pace but a period
doesn't make it the last unless feeling too poor!
And so effort of four times as much was recognized by my daughter tonight seeing my husband push her toy upstairs... a wonderful gift of time that continued because our squeaks stopped for those.
loved the vignette form between branching
"Kitchenette Building"is scattered from just being scared despite not settled in joy perhaps. Interesting discoveries are then juxtapose to what makes it poignant like :"But could a dream sent up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall,"
which shows of lives delves into day to day living fine if no improvement needed to not be forgotten it seems. on margins more major than what can be focused on after awhile.
It reminds me of when I carried something upstairs, single stepped it like when there's extra weight of clot in the vein of the matter, strong getting around that or to it really or someone to help health.
5:57 a flute was similar to muffled talk while a child sleeps and clippers left open are hardly a checkmark if forgot to give a lullaby.
~Carolyn
P.S. heard Gwendolyn Brooks on NPR historic review of interviews and I was interested to see some work of who appeared captivated by basics.