Little Feather Dove

[ksinll]

Hi,
I've been working on this poem and I like the imagery. I'm trying to think of ways to make it better. Criticism welcome.

Little feather dove, drooping with color are you
displeased? Questions may be despised and lay
dimly lit like vain flickers of moonlight cast upon
shadow in your Aegean eyes.

Crazy-lovely is an orchid bent, a compelling vision
yet emanating an entrancing scent, a fragility like
cunning futile arguments. She’s standing high and
surrounded on red sandy dunes.

The ground blazes out runes with bloodshot eyes,
the desert floor keeps asking where the vicious water
went. A question matched by the sky, furor in ready
supply, is asked by the sun meeting the earth’s line.

A greeting at the center of all our lives
the burning majesty, he is passion enthroned
in the remote kingdom clothed in ghastly,
expansive midnight robes.

Only the dimly lit wonder of night
can capture the vastness of his might, the
pin-pointed principalities gleam for our eyes only
when all else has faded into a dark absconding dream.

But he summons us, doesn’t he? Reveling in prisms
with flourishes played upon humid air to produce
greetings of lucid insanity, his madness and beauty
truly encompass the wide spectrums of our small lives.

Orchid-lover, lost in the fiery red desert
crazy-lovely, broken, bent lady
oh, Beatrice of our lives
What have they done to you,
what in deed has been done?

Where are you now you silken screeching banshee,
your dew does sizzle like drops on coals of fancy.
Limpid lilting petals of velvet-light curving to scarlet;
blushes inscribed in the calligraphy of thin veins.

Peer over the jutting edge into contorted collusions
of sharp rock, a congregation of stone, the deep
indwelling of twisting waters trapped in their own
home. There now is where you stand.

As you look into the expanse of your soul’s motion;
blue darkly shining and stillness deeply burning --
the sapphire’s way -- uniting people of a nation with a
perpetual waterfalling bridge, maybe death-begetting --
except for the one that surrenders and swims.

The tithing tides take in all of identity’s lies.
If you indeed plummet you ghost purified with lye,
you ghost of a limp lethal florae – that must cry out
crazy with love or it will die;

If you do now, say your questions have arrived
and met their consummation; if you abandon
the grounds of your life and dive into this
sea of rioting untold commotion;

you’re but spirit-bound, if you plummet –
you will only fly.

[billy]

great to see you posting some poetry

Hi,
I've been working on this poem and I like the imagery. I'm trying to think of ways to make it better. Criticism welcome.

Little feather dove, drooping with color are you semi colon or commar after color
displeased? Questions may be despised and lay here you lose your reader
dimly lit like vain flickers of moonlight cast upon
shadow in your Aegean eyes.

Crazy-lovely is an orchid bent, a compelling vision
yet emanating an entrancing scent, a fragility like
cunning futile arguments. She’s standing high and
surrounded on red sandy dunes. a little wordy, it doesn't feel like it has a connection with the 1st stanza.

The ground blazes out runes with bloodshot eyes,
the desert floor keeps asking where the vicious water do you mean viscous or vicious? just curious, either works
went. A question matched by the sky, furor in ready furore
supply, is asked by the sun meeting the earth’s line.

A greeting at the center of all our lives
the burning majesty, he is passion enthroned
in the remote kingdom clothed in ghastly,
expansive midnight robes.

Only the dimly lit wonder of night
can capture the vastness of his might, the
pin-pointed principalities gleam for our eyes only
when all else has faded into a dark absconding dream. this is your strongest stanza so far, try and give the the rest of the poem this quality.

But he summons us, doesn’t he? Reveling in prisms revelling, revealing or reviling?
with flourishes played upon humid air to produce
greetings of lucid insanity, his madness and beauty
truly encompass the wide spectrums of our small lives. another solid stanza so now you have two to emulate (spectrum)

Orchid-lover, lost in the fiery red desert
crazy-lovely, broken, bent lady
oh, Beatrice of our lives
What have they done to you,
what in deed has been done? i do like this stanza , beatrice could be one of many. so now you're batting three for three.

Where are you now you silken screeching banshee,
your dew does sizzle like drops on coals of fancy.
Limpid lilting petals of velvet-light curving to scarlet;
blushes inscribed in the calligraphy of thin veins. almost beautiful, it just feels overdone, who is the ss banshee?

Peer over the jutting edge into contorted collusions
of sharp rock, a congregation of stone, the deep
indwelling of twisting waters trapped in their own
home. There now is where you stand. this is excellent though if it's a metaphor it would be best put to use as a 1st stanza.

As you look into the expanse of your soul’s motion;
blue darkly shining and stillness deeply burning -- needs some grammar
the sapphire’s way -- uniting people of a nation with a
perpetual waterfalling bridge, maybe death-begetting --
except for the one that surrenders and swims. this stanza just goes out there on a limb and leaves the reader in limbo asking WTF not a great place to leave a reader

The tithing tides take in all of identity’s lies.
If you indeed plummet you ghost purified with lye,
you ghost of a limp lethal florae – that must cry out
crazy with love or it will die;

If you do now, say your questions have arrived
and met their consummation; if you abandon
the grounds of your life and dive into this
sea of rioting untold commotion;

you’re but spirit-bound, if you plummet –
you will only fly.

obviously a religious piece, i think in general it's too preachy specially near the end. while you have some good line and some good stanza. i think it needs a lot of cleaning up to bring it into the realm of the readers understanding. if you want a poem to reach a wide/wider audience then you have to give them something they can understand. at the moment it's very hard going to get through. The title for many, is the most important part of the poem, try and spell the words in it correctly; Little


thanks for the read, if you can leave a bit of feedback on the poetry of some of the other poets.

[Wildcard]

Hi ksinll

Good to see you posting. The first thing I noticed was that the title has a typo in it. It should be 'Little' instead of 'Littl'. I don't mean to be picky but it is the first impression.

Little feather dove, drooping with color are you --The grammar here is a bit twisted and I can't see any good reason for it. "drooping with color you are" is awkward when dropping "you are" altogether seems the better option. Without it the imagery is good. Displeased on the next line feels unnecessary as well.
displeased? Questions may be despised and lay
dimly lit like vain flickers of moonlight cast upon
shadow in your Aegean eyes.

Crazy-lovely is an orchid bent, a compelling vision --again the grammar is unnecessarily twisted. Why not 'a bent orchid' instead?
yet emanating an entrancing scent, a fragility like
cunning futile arguments. She’s standing high and
surrounded on red sandy dunes.

The ground blazes out runes with bloodshot eyes, -- love this line.
the desert floor keeps asking where the vicious water
went. A question matched by the sky, furor in ready
supply, is asked by the sun meeting the earth’s line.

A greeting at the center of all our lives
the burning majesty, he is passion enthroned
in the remote kingdom clothed in ghastly, --is ghastly the right word? It doesn't seem to fit
expansive midnight robes.

Only the dimly lit wonder of night
can capture the vastness of his might, the
pin-pointed principalities gleam for our eyes only
when all else has faded into a dark absconding dream. --this might be the best stanza for me.

But he summons us, doesn’t he? Reveling in prisms
with flourishes played upon humid air to produce
greetings of lucid insanity, his madness and beauty
truly encompass the wide spectrums of our small lives. --spectrum doesn't need to be pluralized here. The plurality of "lives" is collective and covers the phrase. If you must, I would prefer "spectra".

Orchid-lover, lost in the fiery red desert
crazy-lovely, broken, bent lady
oh, Beatrice of our lives
What have they done to you,
what in deed has been done?

Where are you now you silken screeching banshee,
your dew does sizzle like drops on coals of fancy.
Limpid lilting petals of velvet-light curving to scarlet;
blushes inscribed in the calligraphy of thin veins.

Peer over the jutting edge into contorted collusions
of sharp rock, a congregation of stone, the deep
indwelling of twisting waters trapped in their own
home. There now is where you stand.

As you look into the expanse of your soul’s motion;
blue darkly shining and stillness deeply burning --
the sapphire’s way -- uniting people of a nation with a
perpetual waterfalling bridge, maybe death-begetting --
except for the one that surrenders and swims.

The tithing tides take in all of identity’s lies.
If you indeed plummet you ghost purified with lye,
you ghost of a limp lethal florae – that must cry out
crazy with love or it will die;

If you do now, say your questions have arrived
and met their consummation; if you abandon
the grounds of your life and dive into this
sea of rioting untold commotion;

you’re but spirit-bound, if you plummet –
you will only fly.

I think the close is a little weak and there is a little twisted grammar but overall the images were vivid and well-thought out.

Thanks for sharing.

[billy]

just a thought Ksinll;

have you thought about posting in the mild critique forum till you find your feet. the feedback in this spot can be particularly hazardous to poets who have yet grown their skin to a required thickness

[Aish]

Welcome to The Pig, ksinll!

You have included some nice imagery and turns of phrase in this piece. However, it is kind of a humbled mess. You have lengthy statements with lots of adjectives and modifiers. I suggest identifying two or there points you wish to emphasize, and pare the fat off to expose the physique you built it around.

I'm looking forward to reading more from you.

Aish

[ksinll]

just a thought Ksinll;

have you thought about posting in the mild critique forum till you find your feet. the feedback in this spot can be particularly hazardous to poets who have yet grown their skin to a required thickness

I've appreciated the comments here and I think it will help me revise the poem and make it better. I think comments like "humbled mess" are a little out of line though and so I probably will delete my account. It seems like serious critique can be done without name-calling but maybe the members on this board do not know the difference.

[Todd]

From the forum description:

No action will be taken by moderators to censure comments if it is deemed they are valid critique, however negative it may appear to the original poster. This is Serious Critique and not all feedback will be supportive of your poem.

It isn't name calling it's how one reader perceived your work. I hope you do stay around, but that's up to you.

Best,

Todd

[tectak]

From the forum description:

No action will be taken by moderators to censure comments if it is deemed they are valid critique, however negative it may appear to the original poster. This is Serious Critique and not all feedback will be supportive of your poem.

It isn't name calling it's how one reader perceived your work. I hope you do stay around, but that's up to you.

Best,

Todd

That went well, I thought.
Tectak

[ksinll]

I'm sorry but calling a poem a mess is actually a personal opinion and in no way objective. I'm not asking for people to be supportive of my poem, I do ask them to refrain from being childish.

From the forum description:

No action will be taken by moderators to censure comments if it is deemed they are valid critique, however negative it may appear to the original poster. This is Serious Critique and not all feedback will be supportive of your poem.

It isn't name calling it's how one reader perceived your work. I hope you do stay around, but that's up to you.

Best,

Todd

That went well, I thought.
Tectak

---

Hi

I think that you're critiques verged a little on the form of a personal attack and were a little uncalled for. I did call for a critique but your sloppy commentary was lazy, childish and not helpful in any way. I truly hope that you stop posting in this poem until you learn to clean your act up.
Welcome to The Pig, ksinll!

You have included some nice imagery and turns of phrase in this piece. However, it is kind of a humbled mess. You have lengthy statements with lots of adjectives and modifiers. I suggest identifying two or there points you wish to emphasize, and pare the fat off to expose the physique you built it around.

I'm looking forward to reading more from you.

Aish
[/quote]

[billy]

giving a personal opinion of a poem is one of the ways to give a validated piece of critique or feedback ie; what we think of a poem. Aish said the poem was a humbled mess, not the poet. she never attacked the poet and was not nasty or mean spirited in her opinion. on the basis of her crit you have asked to leave the site. it is so sad when a poet decides to leave because of a lack of understanding of the work shop process or having too thin a skin but we will close your account as you asked, should you change your mind please mail me and i will re open it for you.


to anyone who reads this post. please be aware that feedback will be given openly and honestly in this forum. if we think it's a humbled mess or a work of righteous art we will say so (usually with an explanation as to how we reached our conclusion) if you don't want a full and honest feedback or aren't sure how a workshop process works, post in the novice mild or for fun forums please. /admin aka thread police