meditation

[justcloudy]

wrapped inside out I wander in
and if I’m lucky, can observe
floating soul melding with physical heart,
bridge-linked to my brain—
a nonphysical reaching down, transforming,
intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,
a process
small beyond my knowledge
too intricate for comprehension

shifting to the realm of the people of the quarks.

they shiver and it shakes the world.
fourth dimensional inhabitants of our circled existence,
foreverly larger than the titans of our minds.
with parental authority they decide we are too cold
and their tiny hands delicately shove
hovering soul into bodies, willing or not.
(how could we know what is best?)

with their otherness they border-hop
between spiritual and temporal,
as a model, an exhibition, a test.

will they ever learn?









(sorry, signature refuses to disappear)

[tectak]

Hi goldy.
I am going to stick to my guns on this. You may say churlish, you may say pedantic, but that's me...this is about your poem. Begin with a capital letter. I will pretend you did, otherwise I would not continue.
wrapped inside out I wander in Good, strong, certain, deliberate rhythm.
and if I’m lucky, can observe...and so it continues. Great
floating soul melding with physical heart,
bridge-linked to my brain—Last two lines can be easily read to fit. It is going well
"...bridge-linked" is a little tautological and could be much improved. You chose the easy route. " two links in the chain around my brain"
a nonphysical reaching down, transforming, Gone.....rhythm lost. It was so strong. Gone
intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,
a process
small beyond my knowledge
too intricate for comprehension You have abandoned your own poem because it just got too difficult to control. Fight it. Beat it into order. Make it do what YOU want it to do.

shifting to the realm of the people of the quarks.Hmmm. We are off on another jaunt. The tenuous connection between what has gone before and what comes after is unsettling. I have to keep going back to see how I got here....and it is not at all clear where "here" is.Strangeness and charm together.

they shiver and it shakes the world. Capit...aw the hell with it
fourth dimensional inhabitants of our circled existence,
foreverly larger than the titans of our minds. Do not make up words. Even if you are American by birthness the Urban Dictionary does not count.
with parental authority they decide we are too cold
and their tiny hands delicately shovedelicately and shove does not work. Think about it.
hovering soul into bodies, willing or not. Souls...but it does not matter anymore. Willing is again not a shove thing, but it is a nit
(how could we know what is best?)

with their otherness they border-hop The otherness is terrifical. I have neverly seen the word used with such authoritiness.
between spiritual and temporal,
as a model, an exhibition, a test.This last verse says to me " Don't follow me...I'm lost".....but it's OK. I have been lost here before.

will they ever learn?

A whole lot to think about, primarily because you had an idea outside your comfort zone. It happens to all the best poets. Needs to be controlled. This poetry writing lark is like riding a spirited horse. You have to break the bloody thing.
Best,
tectak







(sorry, signature refuses to disappear)

[justcloudy]

hey there tectak.

oooyye guess I should've chosen a poem I worked on a bit more for my jump into the serious forum! ;D though having seen some of your other critiques I might say I got off lightly.

thanks for the feedback, but I must respectfully disagree with many of your points. you don't capitalize your name, I don't capitalize the beginnings of my poems. it's a matter of taste, not dogma. also, yes I'm American, but that has no relation to whether or not I should make up words... I do lots of writing, I'm an English teacher, and am often a so-called "grammar Nazi". I love poetry because I get to experiment and be weird. for me, here I can break the rules. hope that explains it a bit, though I doubt you'll be any less bugged.

on the other hand, I see what you mean about the rhythm at the beginning, and I appreciate the horse metaphor, that's a good way to think about it. and yes, it is an idea that's out there a bit, and yes I do need to link the two parts more. so thanks for those thoughts.

oh, and shove delicately-- like how you push a kid on a swing.

thanks for the reply

--goldyfish

[tectak]

hey there tectak.

oooyye guess I should've chosen a poem I worked on a bit more for my jump into the serious forum! ;D though having seen some of your other critiques I might say I got off lightly.

thanks for the feedback, but I must respectfully disagree with many of your points. you don't capitalize your name, I don't capitalize the beginnings of my poems. it's a matter of taste, not dogma. also, yes I'm American, but that has no relation to whether or not I should make up words... I do lots of writing, I'm an English teacher, and am often a so-called "grammar Nazi". I love poetry because I get to experiment and be weird. for me, here I can break the rules. hope that explains it a bit, though I doubt you'll be any less bugged.

on the other hand, I see what you mean about the rhythm at the beginning, and I appreciate the horse metaphor, that's a good way to think about it. and yes, it is an idea that's out there a bit, and yes I do need to link the two parts more. so thanks for those thoughts.

oh, and shove delicately-- like how you push a kid on a swing.

thanks for the reply

--goldyfish

Hi goldy,
I hear you. The trouble is, if everyone has their own foibles and freedoms we need to have them listed before we begin crit...otherwise we have no idea what is left to go at! You could, in one bound, be free. All you need to say is whatever the crit is, you don't accept it because that's how it rolls on my street, motherfucker.
We get folks on serious who say speling us not theyre bag, so leeve me alone....others couldn't give a fig for rhythm, they just like to write as it comes....fine, but why post it in serious crit.....ya wanna fight
Yes, shove delicately, kid on a swing...or did you say "push" just then? See what I mean? A shove is an indelicate push

Best,
keep posting and CRIT,
tectak

[serge gurkski]

I like it - maybe only becuzz I got it a bitsy more than HIM. ;-)

I agree with some minor pints Tom felt the unneccessary need to spill over you the poet.

It wouldn't be me would I not like this line best:
"intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,"
and: "foreverly larger than the titans of our minds."
comes right next, being the second best.

I am not sure they don't qualify, these loverly
-ly words I have heard whispered to me
not on the streets and not by the Urban dictionary
but from lipstickedly sexy lips that orally pleased this freak
all over East from the Midwest. I 'll close now (that will be best).

@ Tom: Are you familiar with Cowboy poetry?
(no tic)
Your's devotishly

[tectak]

I like it - maybe only becuzz it got it a bitsy more than HIM. ;-)

I agree with some minor pints Tom felt the unneccessary need to spill over you the poet. You have a contradiction in terms. You cannot have an "unnecessary need". That is like saying " german humour"

It wouldn't be me would I not like this line best:
"intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,"
and: "foreverly larger than the titans of our minds."
comes right next, being the second best.

I am not sure the don't qualify these loverly
-ly words I have heard whispered to me
not on the streets and not by the Urban dictionary
but from lipstickedly sexy lips that orally pleased this freak
all over East from the Midwest. I 'll close now (that will be best).

@ Tom: Are you familiar with Cowboy poetry?I only know one Cowboy Poem called "The Cowboy's Epitaph":

First ah wasn't.
then ah was.
Now I ain't again.

(no tic)
Your's devotishly

[serge gurkski]

[quote='serge gurkski' pid='118518' dateline='1362702595']
I like it - maybe only becuzz it got it a bitsy more than HIM. ;-)

I agree with some minor pints Tom felt the unneccessary need to spill over you the poet. You have a contradiction in terms. You cannot have an "unnecessary need". That is like saying " german humour"

It wouldn't be me would I not like this line best:
"intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,"
and: "foreverly larger than the titans of our minds."
comes right next, being the second best.

I am not sure the don't qualify these loverly
-ly words I have heard whispered to me
not on the streets and not by the Urban dictionary
but from lipstickedly sexy lips that orally pleased this freak
all over East from the Midwest. I 'll close now (that will be best).

@ Tom: Are you familiar with Cowboy poetry?I only know one Cowboy Poem called "The Cowboy's Epitaph":

First ah wasn't.
then ah was.
Now I ain't again.

ya, that's a cutie. But really there is a lot out there. At least worth a try.
(Will stop hijicking this thread now. My apologies, Goldy!)

[Todd]

Hi, welcome to serious . Some comments below:

wrapped inside out I wander in
and if I’m lucky, can observe
floating soul melding with physical heart,
bridge-linked to my brain—
a nonphysical reaching down, transforming,
intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,
a process
small beyond my knowledge
too intricate for comprehension

There is some good phrasing in the first strophe. I like lilting onwards and the last two lines especially. Where this breaks down is that it's a bit too abstract. I'd like to see some more concrete imagery to make floating soul, physical heart, and non-physical reaching more evocative and interesting.

shifting to the realm of the people of the quarks.--This is cool. I'm almost tempted to suggest starting the poem here, and blending S1 in later

they shiver and it shakes the world.
fourth dimensional inhabitants of our circled existence,
foreverly larger than the titans of our minds.
with parental authority they decide we are too cold
and their tiny hands delicately shove
hovering soul into bodies, willing or not.
(how could we know what is best?)

This strophe is really nice. The first line here is a much better first line than your current opening. It's the poem within the poem. When I see this sort of thing it makes me thing everything that came before was just to get you here--if that makes sense

with their otherness they border-hop --I like border-hop
between spiritual and temporal,
as a model, an exhibition, a test.--optional: as model, as exhibition, as test.

will they ever learn?
--not a big fan of ending on a question. It can work, but it doesn't feel as strong as you need






(sorry, signature refuses to disappear)

I hope some of that will be helpful.

Best,

Todd

[serge gurkski]

Tom wrote:
"You have a contradiction in terms. You cannot have an "unnecessary need". That is like saying " german humour""

;-) Glad you noticed (a contradictio in adiectio): It is unneccessary for all mankind minus one. The one and only. ;-)
Or: that is like saying : British don't get Gurkski humour. (They are not alone, of course.)

[Todd]

Tom & serge, just a friendly reminder: Could we please stay focused on the poem? The thread is in danger of fragmenting.

Much appreciated,

Todd

[billy]

i think you catured the nirva of what meditation is and how it could affect a person. i enjoyed some of the images, shiver as it shakes the world was excellent. nothing really bad, and mainly just a few nits. while the cap thing is a personal choice, i think this poem would be enhanced with their use. i'm all for poetry that has no caps and no punctuation, but when i see a perion i'm automatically looking for a cap. not arguing or dissenting, just giving feedback on the poem. which i think is almost excellent.

thanks for the read.

wrapped inside out I wander in
and if I’m lucky, can observe
floating soul melding with physical heart,
bridge-linked to my brain—
a nonphysical reaching down, transforming, is a comma needed here?
intimately, infinitely, liltingly onwards,
a process
small beyond my knowledge
too intricate for comprehension

shifting to the realm of the people of the quarks. feels a little wordy, but still works

they shiver and it shakes the world. i love this line. it makes minutia infinitely huge.
fourth dimensional inhabitants of our circled existence,
foreverly larger than the titans of our minds. foreverly? while there is poetic licence and poets do create words. foreverly feels that it just misses the mark.
with parental authority they decide we are too cold
and their tiny hands delicately shove
hovering soul into bodies, willing or not. souls or body
(how could we know what is best?)

with their otherness they border-hop
between spiritual and temporal,
as a model, an exhibition, a test. i think this line dtracts from the two above wich stand perfectly well on their own.

will they ever learn?









(sorry, signature refuses to disappear)

[justcloudy]

thanks all for the feedback! been busy, am busy-- will soon be able to work on this piece some more, and wander around the site to read and critique. thanks again for all the input. lots of varied opinions ;D

--goldyfish