10-27-2018, 04:50 AM
Hi Keith,
Thank you for the comments.
Best,
Todd
Thank you for the comments.
(10-27-2018, 01:39 AM)Keith Wrote: Hi ToddThank you, Keith
You capture the feeling of loss with a tinge of panic and the whole poem is well balanced by solid line breaks and tight phrasing, the images around the lighting, hungry nights and hours that drag the river are stand out for me. Whilst the magic metaphor works well and fits with the situation, for me it just felt a bit light hearted and by that I mean I wanted it to be darker somehow, not sure how. Some comments below.--I appreciate your framing comments here. I'll look at the light-heartedness. I was going for something slightly different with that, but I may not have given myself enough runway to pull it off.
(10-26-2018, 06:22 AM)Todd Wrote: She leaves home so often; Good opening
you stop noticing. Until the day, At first I thought why not just say, Until she doesn't come back but the way you have it sets a time frame and I like that.
she doesn’t come back.
Light retreats to shadow, this is very visual and cinematic but it feels added in, maybe move it down, im not sure but it needs to be kept.--did you mean not sure it needs to be kept? I was going for something more spiritual or archetypical. I'll give this some consideration.
You pull back the curtain
to peer down the tunnel like how this extends the view and really nails looking along the dark street
between streetlights, listen
to the hungry night, then turn back already said great lines
to your husband over dinner and push
food around your plate. whilst I like this I think it speaks of apathy or distraction I would prefer something more edgy--I see how you could get that read. I was trying for something else. I'll give it some thought and consider the edginess of it all.
The hours drag the rivers,excellent and concise, a lesson for me
waiting for a call, or a note,
like in the movies, but there’s no bargaining
except with God. She’s vanished good use of the line break here, made me think about god not being around when needed
in a perverse magic trick,
into a disappearing box,
out of your life,
and the magician
has had a heart attack.
No words exist
to make her reappear. Solid metaphor and well worked ending
Best,
Todd
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
