From tuchyner5 at gmail.com Fri Sep 1 12:51:21 2023 From: tuchyner5 at gmail.com (leonard tuchyner) Date: Fri, 1 Sep 2023 12:51:21 -0400 Subject: [Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments re: Sandra's piece Message-ID: The title was difficult to discern. But I think it means you are agitated by the form forcing itself on a poem. If so, I agree. It is no more discernible to you than Irregular verbs. The rules on an acrostic poem Force you to back awayFrom plasticity You like things to follow old tried and true methods. This probably is true for your life in general as well. These rules require a learning curve , Which you dislike , Especially if you didn?t choose these restrictive rules to begin with. Yours is a straight forward approach With progress not dictated by anything but product. So the result is that these rules Have exactly the opposite results than was the intention. I totally agree. These rules seem like they are forcing me into a world I choose not to be a part of I resent that. Unles I choose it Nice internal rhyme and good flow. Even if difficult to parce. Like irregular verbs, whose rules elude my brain . . . Electroplasticity, nonexistent at this time-- Cherished routine, upended?does anyone care? Notorious Hater of learning curves, especially those I did not choose: Anchor myself in faith, and tangibility of Numbing motion and fixation: safety in parameters known. Guileless with a pace too fast, and decreased sense of agency . . . Excruciatingly aware of difference unacknowledged, save by me and those who know my heart. Marking off days of progress small and slow, my Exhaustion reigns?subjugating citadels Normally inhabited, when outside forces threatened. Driven beyond baseline behaviors, All reserve forthwith abandoned: Giving no heed to would-be watchers, I accept the breaking down, not yet noting reconstruction. Tears flow, absent, intrusive gatekeepers: Ambulating Halls of polished, dark-hued wood, I Train weary eyes on love?s advancing censer, Inextinguishable . . . inviolable . . . my final answer. Only this must be my guide: Narrow and far, the path toward rest and life. Sandra Not everything that is faced can be changed. But nothing can be changed until it is faced. (James Baldwin) _______________________________________________ Group2 mailing list Group2 at bluegrasspals From tuchyner5 at gmail.com Fri Sep 1 13:39:53 2023 From: tuchyner5 at gmail.com (leonard tuchyner) Date: Fri, 1 Sep 2023 13:39:53 -0400 Subject: [Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments on Val's piece Message-ID: This poem is a eulogy and dirge for Ann Frank. A deep emotional work which speaks of her innocence and what she endured at the hands of man at his worst. It also speaks of Ann?s hope and the hope of the author that we can learn from such experiences and somehow hold on to hope that it will be better in the future. So far, don?t hold your breath. Excellent piece. Real economy of words. You have packed a lot into a small space. Valerie moreno 5:52?PM (1 hour ago) I wonder about you with sorrow and horror. What happened to you defies truth. You were sweet innocence crushed under the self corruption of madmen. They took your family from normal life to resort finding hidden shelter with no promise of survival. You left behind all your hopes, wishes, friends, a beloved cat. over the next two years, war raged and evil burned away rightt and human dignity in ash and conscience. You were betrayed, taken to the bowel of hell where you were destroyed, only your father survived. A devoted lady found a diary in the shambles of the secret annex, Your diary, Anne with all your rushing fear, defiance, expressive longing teen questioning, love. You believed people are good at heart, young surity of sober wisdom. Could you believe this at the end?I try to hope humanity can learn from your short life and honest words. I pray we will even when whispering lips claim it is a hoax. Valerie moreno Inbox Search for all messages with label Inbox Remove label Inbox from this conversation Valerie moreno 5:52?PM (1 hour ago) to jamesstarfire, jmyles63, me, sandrastreeter381, spiritlight982 I wonder about you with sorrow and horror. What happened to you defies truth. You were sweet innocence crushed under the self corruption of madmen. They took your family from normal life to resort finding hidden shelter with no promise of survival. You left behind all your hopes, wishes, friends, a beloved cat. over the next two years, war raged and evil burned away rightt and human dignity in ash and conscience. You were betrayed, taken to the bowel of hell where you were destroyed, only your father survived. A devoted lady found a diary in the shambles of the secret annex, Your diary, Anne with all your rushing fear, defiance, expressive longing teen questioning, love. You believed people are good at heart, young surity of sober wisdom. Could you believe this at the end?I try to hope humanity can learn from your short life and honest words. I pray we will even when whispering lips claim it is a hoax. Valerie moreno From tuchyner5 at gmail.com Fri Sep 1 14:00:51 2023 From: tuchyner5 at gmail.com (leonard tuchyner) Date: Fri, 1 Sep 2023 14:00:51 -0400 Subject: [Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments on Brad's piece Message-ID: Brad sub for August 23 I believe this poem is about near death experiences or other forms of experiencing what lies beyond this life, or what underlies it. In any case these episodes are cherished. Whether they are real or illusion is opened for debate. We can?t be sure. Nevertheless, these experiences seem real to us. Yu ask what causes them. Maybe it is a confluence of all the possibilities. I totally agree. Well written. Is there a door in the texture of the ordinary day? May we osmos through the rainbow membrane into what lies beyond? Many have tried and many fewer have fully returned. Is it a perilous or reckless undertaking? Or is it our raison d?etre? Perhaps it is a question of timing? Is it preparation that aligns the singular molecular passage through? Sometimes we catch a glimpse, a window is thrown wide and as we marvel it vanishes in an instant. Leaving us, in a state of wonder and bewilderment. Are such epiphany, or dazzling illusion? Whichever, for many of us they are invaluable treasures. Drafts of the map, the lantern, a yearning, a target. A definitive purpose! NOTE: ?Raison D?etre? is an Anglicized form of the French term that means ?reason for being.? In French the first: [e] is modified by a circumflex. _______________________________________________ Group2 mailing list Group2 at bluegrasspals.com https://bluegrasspals.com/mailman/listinfo/group2 From tuchyner5 at gmail.com Fri Sep 1 16:30:02 2023 From: tuchyner5 at gmail.com (leonard tuchyner) Date: Fri, 1 Sep 2023 16:30:02 -0400 Subject: [Critique Group 2] Leonard's comments on Joan's piece Message-ID: She is suddenly transported to another way of being. She becomes one with the wind, the trees, the sun, the light. They are her and she is them. Experiencing flight as part of the experience, she is free. Flying and free are similies for each other. It is an exalted way of being. Even her name is part of the experience. The poem also says the elements are inside her which means an inside and an outside. So, she doesn?t lose a part of her which is her identity, like her name. I I like the way the lines here reflect the experience. The experience has a beginning,but does not include coming back down. This is truly transformative. Joan sub for August 23, 2023 by Joan Myles she feels the sun on her face and suddenly she is free and flying far above the trees the light inside her all around the wind and her wings are one and the same One with her name _______________________________________________ Group2 mailing list Group2 at bluegrasspals.com https://bluegrasspals.com/mailman/listinfo/group2