Untitled #1

[nikkisto]

The words are there to envelop me, 
a wall against the otherness 
that leaves me owing explanation;
marking me for stares,
names, entitled questions, fear.

The smooth pages offer me my escape, 
hiding behind the poppies of Mary Oliver,
the rantings of Bukowski,
the longing and ardor of Neruda. 
Their passion my salvation, my shield.

One day I will rebuff the shifty stares,
the too personal queries, violations of space.
But, for today, I smile politely, 
and wait patiently to retreat again
into the lines and rhythm of the words.

[CRNDLSM]

is it untitled for a reason? Are you waiting to see what develops? I like how the first paragraphs defense mechanism, the second is escape, and the third is resolution. I would like to see another paragraph maybe of how the authors words help, or how and why you might rebuff violations, because it seems really you want to withdraw instead forever and not just for now. And I like beginning and ending the poem with 'the words', it nicely closes the package.

[nikkisto]

is it untitled for a reason?  Are you waiting to see what develops?  I like how the first paragraphs defense mechanism, the second is escape, and the third is resolution.  I would like to see another paragraph maybe of how the authors words help, or how and why you might rebuff violations, because it seems really you want to withdraw instead forever and not just for now.  And I like beginning and ending the poem with 'the words', it nicely closes the package.

I'm really struggling with a title for this, I struggle with subtly and am having difficulty tacking a name on this that isn't too on the nose. I can see what you're saying about adding to the poem, thanks for the response and the feedback!

[nikkisto]

I really appreciated your tie into the other poets. I found it very clever. Your connection with different elements of poetry - smooth paper, words, lines, etc. - also created a very peaceful atmosphere in which I was able to see a poem right in front of me and connect each element to your feelings. I agree with the comment above in that I think your poem needed one more paragraph.

Thanks for the comment Abbs! I appreciate you taking the time, I think you're right and there's room at build on this. I'll sit with it a bit and see if I can work up a revision. 

[Achebe]

Hi nikki - some thoughts below

The words are there to envelop me, 
a wall against the otherness ....I think the metaphor needs to be consistent here - walls don't envelope
that leaves me owing explanation; ...same as above - not clear why a wall owes you an explanation. Better to use a simile in L2 ("like a..." instead of "a..."). Words can't owe you an explanation either...the message isn't clear.
marking me for stares,
names, entitled questions, fear.

The smooth pages offer me my escape, 
hiding behind the poppies of Mary Oliver, 
the rantings of Bukowski,
the longing and ardor of Neruda. 
Their passion my salvation, my shield. ...'salvation' and 'shield' are a loose pairing

One day I will rebuff the shifty stares, ...best to rebuff a fixed stare, not one that is by definition, 'shifty'
the too personal queries, violations of space.
But, for today, I smile politely, 
and wait patiently to retreat again
into the lines and rhythm of the words. ...I like the last three lines and it feels like the rest of the poem is a set up to come to them

[RiverNotch]

A title would help. This piece doesn't not-need it, I'm sure.

The words are there to envelop me, I don't see any semantic issues with using "envelop", but I'm sure there's a better word out there.
a wall against the otherness The Other without old nessie would be denser (ie, better).
that leaves me owing explanation; Syntactic ambiguity: who leaves you owing explanation, the word-wall or the Other? And since the opposition between the two is meant to be taken as is, the ambiguity ends up being annoying, rather than valuable.
marking me for stares, Again, ambiguity: who marks? And whether you keep it or not, the semicolon should be a comma.
names, entitled questions, fear.

The smooth pages offer me my escape, 
hiding behind the poppies of Mary Oliver, Who hides, the pages or you? The speaker doesn't seem wry enough to conflate true escape with hiding, the last stanza is so *serious*.
the rantings of Bukowski,
the longing and ardor of Neruda. 
Their passion my salvation, my shield. I would go colon on Neruda, instead of period, but that may just be a personal stylistic note. Another personal stylistic note: I would have chosen other poets . But not personal: unless you mean this poem to be as complex a theological treatise as the New Testament, I would rather you removed "my shield", "their passion my salvation" alone is strong enough.

One day I will rebuff the shifty stares,
the too personal queries, violations of space.
But, for today, I smile politely, Remove "for".
and wait patiently to retreat again Remove "and".
into the lines and rhythm of the words. Maybe "rhythms"?

The first two stanzas do set up the third stanza quite well in terms of meat, quite awkwardly in terms of mode: that is to say, your sentences then were not well-constructed, there were so many prickly ambiguities. But the third stanza is fair enough, so I suppose the piece is fair enough -- that said, I do find a complete and completely self-serious fear of the Other to be a somewhat immature theme to dwell on, at best. Complete isolation is no triumph, unless you rudely consider us commentators here as inhuman.

[Wjames]

The words are there to envelop me, 
a wall against the otherness should this be "my otherness"? If it's describing how the narrator is different, I think that it should be their trait.
that leaves me owing explanation;
marking me for stares,
names, entitled questions, fear.

The smooth pages offer me my escape, 
hiding behind the poppies of Mary Oliver,
the rantings of Bukowski,
the longing and ardor of Neruda. 
Their passion my salvation, my shield. Maybe add "is" before salvation.

One day I will rebuff the shifty stares, 
the too personal queries, violations of space. What are some examples of these questions and intrusions? I could relate better if I understand exactly what they are, and can envision it happening to me.
But, for today, I smile politely, 
and wait patiently to retreat again
into the lines and rhythm of the words. What's stopping you from rebuffing them?

I like the poem as a whole.