04-29-2017, 08:49 PM
Hi wordgobbler. I have read this poem several times but was focused more on writing then critiquing each time. I have a hard time dancing lightly through a critique on moderate, so please forgive ahead of time if I overdo it. I liked the poem and the title pulled me in after seeing a similar sun today.
I am sitting on the roof as the morning stretches blue sleep away and drags the line formation is awkward to me. whenever I readpoetry
a red velvet across its shoulders. Everything is smaller than me. I finger the because I like the breaks to work in cadence
brick, red and raw like dried blood but it is far. red velvet is nice, not sure about dried blood
I am becoming. Girl as city.
There are lights. Tarps in windows, curling plants. Streets have cars missing I like the description of missing cars
like teeth, those already gone off to work or those who haven't come home
yet. There is a wind that tussles my hair like his hand. Donuts are being sprinkled, cute this tussling
shower curtains drawn back. I am shuddering - not from the cold but from the
hum in my chest. An old song, dizzy in my head, plays; An old man singing from two olds in this one line seems lazy to me
a mountain to his heart, lost somewhere in the town below these last three lines need order, too
"I am here and it's okay, you can forget about me" the sentiment is strong, but the jumbling
disorder causes it to lose its power
I get where you were going with it and it is a precious thought
penned from the heart. I could picture a girl standing there,
seeing all the things you wrote, just needs some straightening
I suppose. Best wishes to you!!
I am sitting on the roof as the morning stretches blue sleep away and drags the line formation is awkward to me. whenever I readpoetry
a red velvet across its shoulders. Everything is smaller than me. I finger the because I like the breaks to work in cadence
brick, red and raw like dried blood but it is far. red velvet is nice, not sure about dried blood
I am becoming. Girl as city.
There are lights. Tarps in windows, curling plants. Streets have cars missing I like the description of missing cars
like teeth, those already gone off to work or those who haven't come home
yet. There is a wind that tussles my hair like his hand. Donuts are being sprinkled, cute this tussling
shower curtains drawn back. I am shuddering - not from the cold but from the
hum in my chest. An old song, dizzy in my head, plays; An old man singing from two olds in this one line seems lazy to me
a mountain to his heart, lost somewhere in the town below these last three lines need order, too
"I am here and it's okay, you can forget about me" the sentiment is strong, but the jumbling
disorder causes it to lose its power
I get where you were going with it and it is a precious thought
penned from the heart. I could picture a girl standing there,
seeing all the things you wrote, just needs some straightening
I suppose. Best wishes to you!!
there's always a better reason to love