Poetry Forum

" not a massive fan of every line starting with a capital."

A tough call…Hopkins, Yeats, Jeffers, all began their lines with a capital.

"But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet, Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. W.B. Yeats."

“Hay pan!” In the early evening under the stars of the winter dark The local muezzin welcomes the faithful home His call the ancient call of bread “Hay pan!” The call of home in Cuernavaca Outside Huddled neighbors with flashlights Bow before the trunk of the old Chevy We thrive on this simple displ...

Dear Ros, Within strong images the now outside camera confuses me on what's seeing what. May I try to follow the path? Your eye sees white light. The camera sees a sphere. The doctor shows you the raised patch? Something like the corner of your eye searches for a hint. You discern the doctor's shape...

I like the pulling and tugging of the last two stanzas.

The world viewed from below is shallow, is an irregular trickle. The trickle, rain?, doesn't work for me.

For some of us there's little space in the world to cast a shadow. That's the sadness.

Thanks for the poem,

j

This poem of clear powerful images deserves praise…I like the ride around old Mars and the meteorite. And, sorry, I need some clarifying… First, inside you your eye sees the starburst. Second, inside you the eye as camera sees? Or is it outside you the doctor's camera sees? I think it's got to be th...

To imagine the other side as like this side frightens. You make it a ludicrous fear.

"I then encouraged you to stand apart from other men, to satisfy my conscience, well, I would be undeserving of you, my son." A letter to a son, a poem, seems impossible. Congratulations for the effort. For him, I wish you would express stronger gleamings of your own nobility. 'Pacifism,' ...

Abandon Give it up In Mexico in Cuernavaca After a day of peddling his rainbow cargo of pretty globos— Children’s balloons— The tired old vendor lets them go Gives the remnants up to the winds Abandons his balloons to the dying breath of the day Purple yellow blue smiling faces in the sky Peddler’s ...

Thanks for reading, B.,

j

it's a tad grandiloquent IMHO.

Yes, though I don't understand IMHO, I understand. The word 'vocabulary' draws me into that grandiloquence. I'd have to conceive of a new line.

I would be inclined to pare down the ending:

Yes, it could linger too long.

Thank you for your kind help, Geoff,

j

I like this, hank, though the title is a mystery. The line breaks work well, "All sing faceless solos" is good, though I'd put an "in" at the start of the next line."always tells our truth" at the end refers to literally telling or understanding? Thank you, Ray, I don'...

The blind student Gabriel Learned our voices Learned our names Forty of us First day of class Imagine that His ears had eyes truer than hawks Imagine Laura’s soft voice lilts from a corner Chris’ bass booms front and center Mel's shy whisper seeks her silence All sing faceless solos Gabriel’s univer...

"You smoulder beside me." The line promises much. Smouldering could grow a great warmth as well as a great disaster.