Poetry Forum

You're praise seems a touch too fantastical to be sincere - are you being serious?

Like is love enough when one's refrain is so absorbed. A song deferred by the innocence and inexperience that cradles the suckling chlid (name known, not spoken). There is time for formalities, time enough for civil words. Behind a fear of the absurd is a heart's true pattem of beat, to which far mo...

Thanks Brian, it is 'loose' (as in, say, Kipling's 'if we loose wild tounges that keep not thee in awe...)

Would it help if I pointed out the following: Sophie is from greek, sophia, or, in english 'wisdom'. Hence Philosophy (in half-washed light): [philo] love of [sophia] wisom, which is what the poem is about.

I often sing of a love called Sophie; there is wisdom in the music of that name! It’s an opera sung to secret chords and my Sophie is its libretto’s sweet refrain. She is my philosophy in half-washed light that rarely ventures to speak its truth, but dreams in perfect silence as I sleep in a cradle ...

Thanks one and all for your helpful comments - will certainly feed in to the second draft! Please forgive the spelling mistakes - I normally write these on my iphone whilst on the tube!!

I take on board the point about punctuation - let's see if I can improve with my next effort...

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Maybe you should take some of your own advice.

Please see adjacent comment on your misreading of what was a thanks for your comments.

The reference to 'at it's best' was to the platitudes used (orbs, beautiful sorrow etc), not the poem itself.

I post here to get feedback from other have-a-go poets, which is why I thanked your for your comments.

Whilst appreciate your comments;
Forgive me if I test:
Why try and say a thing better,
If it's already been said at its best ?

I can't believe she likes me; it came as quite a shock; I thought I must be dreaming, and kept checking the clock We sat on a bench together; suspending our disbelief, And every time she smiled, I felt the same relief Fot two-years we dilly-dallied; Put it off till another time; but there we sat tog...

The Language of Her Eyes Sweet sadness is the language of her eyes, Singing beautiful sorrow through a half-washed light; that illuminates the retreat of silent sighs; but lends no ray of sun to unrequited night No flicker of promise, no glint of desired advance; just perpetual twilight across ambig...

Smile, thorny forced, keeps presentation in check; partisan colours bleed from stiff neck, hand thrusts as punter on roadside whore; rich lips throw promises to undeserving Poor. Bawdy prose composed in a hidden fool's bliss, pumps pathos to bathos and all in-betwixt behind a persian drape tearing a...

A leech. Conscious of the fact, but, but... speechless, no words to...excuse ? No doubt; no action; none. No. Doubt. No words to justify... embarrassment deferring openness; except in silent verse... silent deferral, silence deferred, and held. A Coward. Conscious of the fact, but, but... silence Wi...

hank wrote:"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."

I believe the phrase is 'more than a nod' ?

I'm afraid I do not have much contstructive to add here,other than...thank you! This engendered some interesting thoughts and ideas in my tired mind... And for that...I can only be grateful!!!

Yours ever,

D.

And now I know why you are called lovely!

Thank you so much,


D.

Lovely,

Thanks for the crit.

I must confess - the poem was inspired by a drunk convo with a close friend; as such; the reference to poisoning the cup has specific relevance!

Nevertheless - thanks for your thoughts! Much appreciated....


D

A touch too abstracted for me; couldn't get to the bottom of it...

Liked the humour in the last line, though have the feeling that this is meant to be more than a 'joke'; if there is a hidden meaning, it was too well hidden for me to find it !

Interesting read. Some ambiguities though - didn't quite understand why there would be a street party/carnival in winter - or am I missing the point ? Liked the reference to the sky as a 'dumb-ass' on my second reading, but worth noting that even the sky's 'raw innocence' wears a mask of cloud, espe...

Nice read, some suggestions though, which may prove ignorant: 1. 'Your perspiring splendor' - may, possiby, read better as 'your spleandor perspiring' , possibly qualified with a further line about the 'spring' (or 'April' as you so eloquently put it) sun ? One possibility: I’d slog for miles to bre...

When I walk in the dream of a friend, I take care to tread softly on clouds; the fall from such heights never ends; as a raindrop that cries without sound. Yet I keep the ground in full view, Should a friend soar too close to their sun; When dreaming skies of improbable hue, It is best that our soul...

Thanks Ros.

ha! You can make up for it by commenting on my lame excuse for a poem

D.

Dante, First of all, great name... second... Really good read. My only critcism is on the line 'jittered nerves settled in a quiet niche by a wet fissure and the swans drift on by' , I understand that this a prose appraoch, but this line really doesn't hang together for me, possibly ' as the swans d...