[Critique Group 2] Leonards comments on critique meeting

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Abbie

 

TO MY NEPHEW AT TWENTY

 

It seems like yesterday when you were born.

Named after Bob Dylan and Dylan Thomas, you were Grandma Gummy’s little dilly bar.

What is a dilly bar?

 

When you were a baby, I held and sang to you, made faces, said “fuzzy pickle” when your daddy took our picture.

Then you were two.

Grandpa Grumpy’s truck fascinated you.

Being told no did not.

This is a clever and humorous way  of saying “nothing.”

 

At four, you played soccer,

wanted to be big.

Now you are—

These last two lines work really well.

 

how time has flown.

This line is a cliché. It is a cliché that works. You might want to find a different way of saying the same thing, nevertheless.

 

The possibilities are endless.

With your own band, you could

produce a record label,

write and record hundreds of songs,

give thousands of performances across the country,

or you could be a teacher

like your father

or a writer like me,

inspire and entertain millions.

I don’t think you need the last line.

 

Alice

 

 




 

	

 




 

	

 



	
	


This is a beautiful poem. I had to look up the word ‘primavera. I found that the forced form of the poem often interfered with the rhythm and phrasing of the piece.  If I had my druthers, I would make those qualities  preeminent.

 

  Welcome, Primavera:  A Seasoned Pi Poem 

 

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

 

 

Spring blessings

come

upon the heel

of

winter's frosted clouds,

If clouds are plural, shouldn’t it be heels rather than heel?

on ochre petals of daffodils,

This is a beautiful line.

on trills

of robins' measured notes,

Also beautiful lines.

in hyacinth air,

from sweet voices

of children swinging,

from the soft whir of bicycles,

from fragrance of earth where I will plant

I love the sound of this line.

perennial Summer Soul

Why is Soul  capitalized?l

To hear the quiet affirmation--

dear Nature's

welcome:

"Primavera,

alas, your turn has come to choose.

How will our March,

April, and May appear?

Whisper

meteorological,

precious secrets

I love the ‘s’ sounds of these 3 lines.  A good example of onomatopoeia.

to planters,

gardeners,

tillers of your magical soil.

Bless their fields,

gardens

with fair rationings of rain,

I just love the roll of r’s.

lightning, tempered wind, prodigious sun.

Primavera, come!"

Clever end of line rhyme.

 

NOTE:  Below you will find my pi poem with each of the 32 lines preceded by the number of syllables in the line.  These numbers, in order down the left column, comprise the first 32 numerals of the mathematical pi.

 

Welcome, Primavera:  A Seasoned Pi Poem

 

(3)  Spring blessings

(1)  come

(4)  upon the heel

(1)  of

(5)  winter's frosted clouds,

(9)  on ochre petals of daffodils,

(2)  on trills

(6)  of robins' measured notes,

(5)  in hyacinth air,

(3)  from sweet voices

(5)  of children swinging,

(8)  from the soft whir of bicycles,

(9)  from fragrance of earth where I will plant

(7)  perennial Summer Soul

(9)  To hear the quiet affirmation--

(3)  dear Nature's

(2)  welcome:

(3)  "Primavera,

(8)  alas, your turn has come to choose.

(4)  How will our March,

(6)  April, and May appear?

(2)  Whisper

(6)  meteorological,

(4)  precious secrets

(3)  to planters,

(3)  gardeners,

(8)  tillers of your magical soil.

(3)  Bless their fields,

(2)  gardens

(7)  with fair rationings of rain,

(9)lightning, tempered wind, prodigious sun.

(5)  Primavera, come!"

 

number of words:  105

number of poetic lines:  32

 ajm321kh at wi.rr.com

 

Brad

 

I love the philosophical speculations raised

 

Who Knows Where the Time Goes

I sat on the large deck overlooking the sea with a contingent of fellow
travelers and waited for the sun to set. Speaking figuratively, for most of
us the sun had just about fully set already.

This is a great way to say you guys were really far over the hill.  But I didn’t get it at first at first I thought you were talking about the sunset only.

 

Four attractive young men and
women attired in rainbow shirts and white shorts circulated, serving
everyone their drink of choice.

I was born with compromised vision, lost almost all of that, and through
some clever retinal implants, I could see sunsets and the breasts and faces
of women once again. The measure of my gratitude was almost too large to
encompass.

Is this a true description of your eyesight history?



Quietly, the strains of Sinatra’s “It Was a Very Good Year” began to play as
sentimental background.

I sipped my drink and my eyes filled. How did I get to be this old? When did
it all happen? I was fairly sure that some sorcery had been involved.

I certainly can relate to that feeling.


Somehow, when I wasn’t paying attention, something had stolen away some
years.

Over my long life, I had seen great times and awful times. I had loved and
hated. I had lost much and gained much more than I realized when it was
happening. How could I be sitting here on this deck near the end of my life
waiting for the sunset?

Again, that wonderful metaphor of the sunset being the last moments of life.

I signaled for another drink and drained my glass to the dregs. For an

“Glass to the dregs,” is a clear connection to the Sinatra song. It seems that this whole piece could claim that song for its theme.


instant, I felt the strangest sense of déjà vu. It seemed like I had been in
this exact situation before. There was an eerie familiarity about it all. I
wondered momentarily if there was some repeating loop at the center of all
our lives. Did we experience life, then forget and then reexperience it
again as if new, but with a vague sense of familiarity? Perhaps!

 

You are probably a Trecky.   That  theme has been worked several times. I’m talking about the time-loop theme.

The old fellow sitting on my left leaned over and asked quietly: “You don’t
really expect to get an answer to that one, do you?”

So who is that old fellow who seems capable of reading your mind? Very nice insert to the story. It raises all kinds of possibilities. I think it might be yu talking to yourself as a self who has gone through the loop so many times that he knows what it is and knows what your/his thoughts are at that moment.

I took a deep breath and replied, “No, I’m afraid not.”

As the sun seemed to fall majestically into the sea, the sweet, long dead
voice of Sandy Denny wondered in the background: “who knows where the time
goes-who knows where the time goes?”
You have cleverly changed the meaning of the question. You are not just asking about the passage of time, but you are asking a more fundamental question. You are asking about the nature of time.

 

Welcome back. This was worth waiting for.

 

 

Val

 

I love this piece. It’s powerful . It reveals a lot about the author.  Open, vulnerable, strong, accepting her flaws and strengths. She wants others to be the same.

 

am blind,
does that scare you

Strong Opening lines. They grab you.


with images of wandering aimlessly
through chambers filled with darkness and fear?

Do you shrink away from
what you consider different,
dangerous, dreadful?

The perception of a blind person is especially intriguing. The lines made me think about it. I’ve come to some interesting theories.

No need to grasp my arm tight,

I can feel it.


propell me forward,

Propel is really good.


talk very loud or slow,
or assume my "blinddar"
sees through you.

These lines covers the two extremes in which blind people are often stereotyped.

Listening and concentration
are always "on,"
Offer me your elbow to guide,
talk naturally, laugh if apropriate--
I won't break if you ask
me a question or say hello.

In other words, just be yourself. The problem is, many people don’t know who or what they are in the company of a blind person or anyone who is not part of their normal social circumstances.

Only my eyes are blind--
my mind, brain and ability are intact.
Don't assume, I won't either.

I love this thought.


You aren't expected to "fix" my life—

With this line I have the image of talking to someone who mayh have potential of being  important in your  life.


if help is needed, I'll tell you
when and how.

If I need your help, I’ll ask for it. You have a kinder way of saying it. It is not a put-off  statement.

Yes, I am blind, not ashamed,
not helpless or guilty.
I love life,
laugh much, perservere like you,
feeling all the same emotions you do.
I think these last several lines has the potential of putting a relationship on equal terms. That would be welcomed by anyone worth having a relationship with.


I am not super human,
downcast and desperate,
I'm as simple and complex as anyone--
only my eyes don't function.
Strong ending.


-Valerie Moreno
spiritwind at pmpmail.com
______
The waiting is the hardest part...you take it on faith, you take it to
the heart...the waiting is the hardest part.
-Tom Petty

 
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