white fog
ginger hare
on melting slopes
it hops
on the rocks
in my whiskey
and disappears
into the spring
white fog
ginger hare
on melting slopes
it hops
on the rocks
in my whiskey
and disappears
into the spring
Review Request Direction: How was my language use?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
IRiz your wild imagination in
IRiz your wild imagination in this poem certainly made me laugh especially stanza 2 is a wow..
it hops
on the rocks
in my whiskey
I wonder though why the proponent of 2-3-4 syllabi has deviated from it in Stanza 3. I am sure you have a reason which i am eager to know..
my dear Raj... Iriz is Ruskee... ya znayu
she is ochen xhoroshaw
talented
the next mission of hers
is to inculcate a
SUNKU SONNET too
Ask her
she alone is here with an exceptional mind
go read her blog and find
the clouds
the trees
the snows
well I tried my hand and found
I'd act like a clown
composing sunkus
Clown isn't bad at all. Just
Clown isn't bad at all. Just hop on board! Let's ride to the spring.
I am making you smile with my two last poems, but I wrote many drafts and work hard on them.
I am sorry but that is as
I am sorry but that is as close as I could get.
For me making you laugh is more important than satisfy you with precision of the count.
It is close though and it has rhythm and alliteration and character.
The deviation is in the last stanza. But it makes the hare disapper better. Best, IR.
high Iriz
do check mine
is it anywhere near your dream's sunkus expectation
off Lovedly
I'm all for laughs.
Sometimes I get them when I don't mean to but that's not as bad as not getting them when you do.
This is cool, vivid, and gave me a giggle. It evoked a complete scenario for me, complete with setting, mood even narrative. Though I bet what I see is different to what you did.
Thumbs up.
Lol, here you are ! I am glad
Lol, here you are ! I am glad I sparked your imagination. I am sure your story has more in common with my poem than you might think.
But there is no way to check unless you invite me in your head. (I am joking again)
I care for you too deeply to invite you into my head.
Most would not ever recover.
I am a strong woman, but you
I am a strong woman, but you maybe right, I never know until I try and even then it could be impossible to judge. When sanity lost it often goes unnoticed!
This is
very atmospheric and naturally odd.
Ha, I know.
Ha, I know.
Thank you my friend.
Thank you my friend.
I am truly happy you laughed with me
I'd
object to one part of the poem, but I don't want my fingers broken by the NKVD
It is a strange joke. It
It is a strange joke. It implies that I am somehow associated with the organization, hopefully you didn't mean it.
My grandfather was tortured by them. Don't mention the name in small talks, please.
I can actually
write about whatever I want....free country and all that.
Obviously I didn't think you were a member of the NKVD. Give me a break.
Sorry,
I know, but your words imply
I know, but your words imply some sort of positive connection. I needed to clarify that.
It is free country and I don't have to read your comments or to answer. But I chose to explain that some jokes hurt me. I accept gladly your word Sorry and suggest to forget the whole topic. I admit that I might be over sensitive on the matter.
Good luck with your poetry.
Irene
Oy you!
Hop it now
I is so busy
Get out
This is mine
A mime in time
Saves rhyme
Just any lines
To add to mine
How do you get currants out of whiskey ?????
Love all the words that flow, Have a lovely day xx
Sweet words
Sweet words
Distract me
From my studies
Do chirp
Sweet Sparrow
I like your songs
Thank you
For visiting
My old poem
Irene
The agro that crept into the comments was not needed so I thought I would just write a couple of lines.
Did you know the ref to currants in the whiskey??
I was being bad as we refer to rabbit and hare droppings as currants, lol.
Good to see that you continued walking with us and ignored the stones strewn on the pathway.
This world is sometimes horrible that it equates a persons origins with a wrong assessment of who they are and what they feel..
I have read many of your works and know that your Sprit is a true one.
Take care and thanks for your reply, I have grown tired of the way things have been going and have not written for a while just restreamed some old stuff, must be an age thing, I will see if I will write a new piece at the weekend or sometime soon, not sure what to write of though.??
You take care and keep up you interesting writes.
Yours as always Ian..xx
Sometimes life overwhelms a
Sometimes life overwhelms a poet, and one needs to wait for a calm moment to start writing again. Writing reminds me collecting flotsom after the storm. Things I find are never straight forward.
Take a good long walk, do not talk just breath, try not to think much, relax and breath, concentrate on what you see.
Alternatively sit down and think
about an object in your room,
describe it in brief terms,
try to remember when and where it came from, how do you feel about it
and whether it had a previous owner
and if it will stay around for long,
why it has to change hands.
It could be a painting, a candle, a library book, a pebble you found on the shore when walk with someone you loved, a dog leash, a shoe lace, a bracelet, a watch, an ashtray, a dry rose, a piece of plastic or a metal bolt you have no idea what was it holding together, it just lies there strong and dim-shining having all this strength unused and unwanted but you will take it and screw on the wall your new bookshelf with your most favorite books your hopes, your only window to the world or simply toss it away.
We all
have lots of sensitivities. You seem not to apply those same standards to yourself.
You want to do well in poetry, work.
Okay, thanks.
Okay, thanks.