07-22-2011, 09:06 AM
Hiya Todd, I just thought I'd wander along now that everyone's done the hard work 
Firstly, I have a great love of fairytales and myths as the basis for poetry because of the dimensions they add, tapping into the collective cultural consciousness (alliteration not deliberate, I promise!). All of these tales have some grounding in reality, whether they're based on a true story or just used to illustrate a common situation or personality trait. Now, your poem:
The surface of the pond is mute—a dull glass of no opinion,
wrinkles blur to ripples. -- I love this contrast with the talkative mirror of the tale
You remain fair, as the distant moon is fair
cold as the latticework of stars. -- beautifully brittle image
I hang in this same spot, where your sliced hands
smashed to shards my brother.
Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth
is a luxury, an icy sliver -- wonderful enjambment between stanzas
searching for the heart. -- shades of "The Snow Queen" here as well.
You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane.
Truth walks a path of shattered glass. -- great assonance in this line -- would "truth treads" be too alliterative for you?
You are the fairest of them all—
a red poppy opening
to the sun
in a land without snow,
snow, snow. -- I find this image very sad, as if she's beautiful among other beauties, rather than ever standing out -- "snow" is such a soft word, the close of the poem fades into regret perfectly
Genuinely well handled, very thoughtful and pertinent to many people -- I really enjoyed this, Todd.
Firstly, I have a great love of fairytales and myths as the basis for poetry because of the dimensions they add, tapping into the collective cultural consciousness (alliteration not deliberate, I promise!). All of these tales have some grounding in reality, whether they're based on a true story or just used to illustrate a common situation or personality trait. Now, your poem:
The surface of the pond is mute—a dull glass of no opinion,
wrinkles blur to ripples. -- I love this contrast with the talkative mirror of the tale
You remain fair, as the distant moon is fair
cold as the latticework of stars. -- beautifully brittle image
I hang in this same spot, where your sliced hands
smashed to shards my brother.
Your face is the dawn’s light:
cheekbones rise like mountains,
skin soft as freshly fallen…Truth
is a luxury, an icy sliver -- wonderful enjambment between stanzas
searching for the heart. -- shades of "The Snow Queen" here as well.
You are fair as the frost
that kisses the windowpane.
Truth walks a path of shattered glass. -- great assonance in this line -- would "truth treads" be too alliterative for you?
You are the fairest of them all—
a red poppy opening
to the sun
in a land without snow,
snow, snow. -- I find this image very sad, as if she's beautiful among other beauties, rather than ever standing out -- "snow" is such a soft word, the close of the poem fades into regret perfectly
Genuinely well handled, very thoughtful and pertinent to many people -- I really enjoyed this, Todd.
It could be worse