poetry critical

online poetry workshop


In a blink of time, a space
between the boardwalk and the stars
ripped open for a brunette to walk
on by the bridge to the sandcastle
where a mellow heart began to dance.
Orchid lips begat candid songs, passwords
bespoken of lost locks: the end of forgery!
A huntress, after all too many fearful
novices only ankle deep in the slosh
(neither nymphs nor midwives),
blessing and embellishing the winnow
with light painted arrows ripping the fog.
Premonitory glory of exploding supernovas
placing iridescent constellations, love fables,
in our modern sky, a mediterranean sojourn
awoke in the wake of your prana, in
the art of your sandals upon the sand. I
had slept to dream of no other goddess but
the one that would arm and disarm: the
mellifluous convection of a cinnamon claret
my chaste reward for following the hunt
until exhaustion at the tone of the aubade.
The land of the morrow a fertile song, a
vindication of opprobrium from a lustful fast,
from your rime and faraway moonlight beads
swell the earth for eglantines never more
to grow askance; in the middle, met you,
in the middle last, bewildered in the cadence
of a pastoral lark: the bushes blossomed and
the bird sung stanzas long dark hid in fright
lockstep with your apparition millennia after
the abolition of deities tending hunting grounds.
Was I so certain to have found your wit?
Will and time had me hoard, feckless
and alone, a guardian’s post at the temple
of your orb; honor and abeyance fruitful
in a forest bereft of memory of its wild
dwellers, none extant, not a courting but a
vision of a hero liberated from banality and the
freedom to slay in easeful sways the most dangerous
game: it is hardly a choice when fate flourishes
the stars and the universe in a whisk from your lips,
only to show that I might be human, after all,
impotent and prayerful in the fray for your eyes.

13 Nov 09

Rated 9 (9) by 2 users.
Active (2): 9
Inactive (0): 9

(define the words in this poem)
(8 more poems by this author)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


cool poem-
though had to read twice
to take it all in...
but it was well worth it--
nicely-crafted write
 — JKWeb

redolent regret in an earnest and deliberating monsoon of words arcing toward the eventual castigation's of doubt bleeding in human, all too human reds reflecting the fragility of the numinous, thus moving us ... you've a writers wit and a painters palette dripping in the word choices here, yet you've laden us with so many wondrous images that Diana is lost, buried in them which does not distill into feeling nor candor -- perhaps the carving edge has need of sharpening to get to the bones here laid to final rest -- I get the feeling of a writer deep and long suffering in anguishes that has laid dorment too long -- here you've tapped into the heart and a gush of blood comes blasting from your pen, to leave ordinary impressions on the surface of our eyes ... however, the craft of writing is not a foreign tongue to you and I hope to see more, too ...
 — AlchemiA

Wow! Thanks for reading and for the feedback!

AlchemiA, I am flattered and humbled by your critique. I have never received such elegant words in response to any of my work and it's all pointing towards an improvement in my writing. I have to agree that "the carving edge needs sharpening" - this was, after all, my first draft. I need to take more time revising, bringing forth the essence of my work.

I was excited by a Diana that came in to my life and left just as suddenly, but I never escaped the suffocating mirror connection as I poured out the words in this poem. It does seem like quite a bit to take in (there was an immensity of feeling I hoped to mold into poetry for this one).

In any case, do expect to see more of me here. Thanks again.
 — ashtray

EXCELLENT story. The last stanza is such a terrific ending. The narrative is like the ballads prefacing epic fantasy stories...well done.
 — wendz

very movingly beautiful. it made me cry. thanks
 — unknown

Thank you wendz! And thank you anonymous! These are some of the warmest responses to my writing that I've ever received.
 — ashtray

excellent and intelligent, such choice words
 — unknown