tiredofvampires

Oh, thank you, both of you! I honestly have been unsure about this one...it felt mediocre to me.

Me1993, yes, I've written more...but not as prolific as Beo! Beo, coming from you, that's an awesome compliment, I'm truly touched.

I'd rather a man come in 2 minutes than have him doing long division or re-running last night's touchdown in his head to last longer. That's dead time as far as I'm concerned. I want him PRESENT.

Edit: yeah, wow, old thread.

Tonight I left my words

To descend

In the serene bowl of the bay,

A tide on this south shore

Sure to take them out

Past the reef some time

Before the sun is due.

Without hurry, corner by corner,

Folding in upon themselves,

Pages separating

Like white ballerinas,

Drifting in and out of sand,

They sung into the current

About what we know

Happened

And all the dear things

That shall one day be.

They sang in a widening quartet,

As they left the protection

Of me,

Sang into

The tears of the planet

Washing my shins

In a waveless dusk.

How gentle the night chosen.

My words,

Their ink did not

Rinse away, but stark

As the human mark

Slowly being designificated

By coral and brine,

A relativity without human

Language.

We don’t need language

Anymore.

We need the undressed stars

To do the spelling

Of a hundred million

Light years

Of understanding.

Oh how lovely a feeling of private reverie in this! I love the "dancing with kites" -- it really makes me feel high up! There's a real freedom in it.

Quite a little gem, HP.

While I don't necessarily think you guys are giving bad advice, perhaps the thought should be entertained that Captain Nemo (aka, our OP), having posted six years ago, is now back on the high seas fighting the good fight in his maritime pursuits, and that his problem with excess flatulence has resolved.

Just a thought.

Carry on.

There was an old lady from Snew

Who thought that she was an old gnu

She acted insane

And so it was plain

She should've been sent to the zoo.

That one's from middle school (age 12)

TOV: That quad is not finished, the line is his blood and the curve is the neckline of her clothing. I'm thinking the blood line needs some errant droplets to give it interest and soften the harsh directionality it moves the eye (yes? no? suggestions?). Her clothing is a point of debate as well, it is blank as of yet, but I feel a soft draped look in mid tones to darken the corner would give it weight to balance the opposite corner. Not too fussy, just some wrinkles to make the fabric of it apparent (yes? no? suggestions?).

I don't know if this is timely enough a reply that you haven't already finished the piece and given it to your friend (sorry, I was absent here), but in case you're still working on it, I think both your ideas for improving it are good.

I think if you defined her collarbone a bit more, and gave the blood a look of conforming to the contours of her body, it would also ease the harsh directionality. The most important thing is this, that it appears to follow her own form, and for her form to be clear, with or without errant drops (which I would not overdo).

I agree on the fabric -- that it would be good to have a mid-tone shade to balance the opposite corner, but again, go easy. I wouldn't try to match the values to the opposite corner (the negative space) because then it would compete too much. I'd define the folds of the drapery to bring them a 3-D look, but not make them too dark. Keep them lighter than the upper left quad, except for a bit more shading in the deeper folded areas at the lower right quad, nearer to the corner of the piece. And yes, not too fussy. Simplify the forms.

You should post the final product here once done! That'd be cool.

Well, I'm not sure how you'd change the neck if the paper's already maxed out as you say. I'd say the wound looks realistic alright, but maybe a bit like a partial decapitation is the only criticism I have of it. Do you do transfer techniques from sketches? I'd definitely do that in the future, to make sure the composition is exactly what you want to start.

I think you got the emotional feeling you were after.

But I would work the lower right quadrant up. I'm not sure what's going on with her shoulder on that side, and there seems to be a line running through it but I don't know what it is. Blood? And is that fainter curve a breast? It seems undefined in that area.

Great seeing you again, CB.

Color can be really intimidating, can't it? So many variables to deal with that you don't with black and white...

But I really like that house, and especially the first drawing. I think that's superb -- it has that old world illustration feeling that I love so much. I appreciate the detail, too. You should do finished pieces like that, it's too good just to hide in a sketchbook.

I like how it's shaping up, Dags! I hope you'll finish it.

Very creepy and dark...I especially like the rendering around the nose and eyes.

I'm assuming it's meant to be read vertically?

That really moved me. And I relate! Thank you for sharing.

MF: Thank you! That would be most interesting...Bob Dylan!

Res: True, about abstractions. But I wonder what your teacher means exactly by "earning" them? (I do suppose if I was famous, I'd be able to get away with them better, eh? lol.) But I gather she meant something more than that.

I am completely self-schooled in poetry, and really don't know how well I'd do in a class (though I've taken creative prose classes and workshops). Only because writing "on command" is nearly impossible for me. The muse strikes me, or it doesn't...sometimes months go by and nothing inspires me. Sometimes I work something over for weeks, and it's still not working and very stale. And then other things I write in a couple of hours and they feel like magic. It's just so unpredictable.

It's good you're getting back to a class! I recall your posting one of yours here (if memory serves) and thinking it was really good...you must post more!

Thanks so much, Res.

Interesting you found it "highly" abstract...that's eye-opening...I guess I can't gauge my own stuff too well, because I was thinking this is one of my more "easily-gotten" less-abstract things. Guess it pushes the envelope more than I thought...maybe why when I post poems here, often I get few responses...maybe no one gets them. And I'm not sure that's my goal in poetry...there's "evocative and mysterious", and then there's just plain "huh?" No good on the latter.

Thanks for reading.

Oh, I wouldn't call it "predictable", I'd just say there is always a meaning and a place the poem leads, whereas some poems just don't seem to intend much. I get these little tingles when you hit the punchline.

And everyone has a style!

But it's nice to mix it up....I find that's really hard. My "style" always wants to come back and be part of it. Like when I try to rhyme like you, I'm totally out of my element. I totally would love to rhyme like that but meh, it just doesn't have the flow.

Well done! -- feels good to read it. I feel like this needs to become my mantra. Seriously. These are thoughts I have, but you put this so well.

Ohh, this is just marvelous. Truly so full of evocative visuals and that anticipation I always have now reading your poems, where I'm going, "What message will be in the end?"

LOVE it. It's perfect. I tweak my poems for ages, but nothing could be improved here.

Hmm, that'd be hard to say...because it's kind of a mixture of things. Yearning. The desire to know and be known completely...the feeling of connection and understanding that love can bring. But also, the feeling of incompleteness of that...and fear of being abandoned. Not just abandoned in love, but by life.

It's so hard for me to describe my poems...but thank you for your interest enough to ask.

Hey, if you write poetry, let's see some from you! That'd be really cool, I love to see people's creative sides here.

No, giggling is always encouraged.

Thanks, guys...

Oh, and waveseer, I just changed my sig to something more somber, but added the old one back in so people might know why you're giggling. heh.

You built a thatched hut

Outside the raided temple,

Pitched a tent

Outside the ruins.

I would have called you a pilgrim

And you spun a bird’s nest

Out of old matchsticks,

Shriveled and charred.

You unbroke the eggs,

Laid them shell to shell.

I would have called you a magician

You fashioned a mountain

Out of chasms and gorges,

Separated air from air

With arrow volts.

You spread flowers

Through the bowels of animals.

I would have called you

Master craftsman

You snapped the hinges

Off bullet-riddled doors,

Sliced deadbolts in two.

You used lights and lasers,

Shears and claws,

You melted the chains.

You broke into the darkness

And made black ore gold.

I would have called you a soldier

A locksmith

An alchemist

Your hands

In their furtive little ways

Brought fireflies in the daytime

And honeybees to the night.

All the spokes from the wheel you took,

And it only spun better.

I called you my soul

Then like an urgent wind, you ceased.

Pebbles tumbled to the ditches and lay there.

Lots of tools you left behind --

Do you not need them anymore?

You left that window open

As though I were as free as you,

And while I would have

Called you through it

I don’t know if I ever

Got your name right.

So I am just calling.

Calling.

Calling

Do it, do it! Share with us....

Another beauty from the wizard, the poet, the heart that knows so much...Dags.

This is just wonderful. You have a gift for creating a pathway of lines, and bringing it to a climax of meaning at the end. I just love the build-up that comes to rest at those last lines. Bravo! And another...

thanx for your coment... And not judgeing me.

 

basically i just smoke to have a good time to relax....bbut the one thing i dont ever do is smoke in front of kids.

 

 

I just thought i'd throw that out ther....

I'd rather not smoke so that these things don't keep happening.

I think I would have enjoyed the poem more if it didn't look like it was written while high. From a literary standpoint, that sort of ruins the effect. Kind of like if you saw an actor on the stage playing a drunkard, only he's so drunk, he can't deliver his lines.

Some powerful stuff here.

I LOVE Tagore's work.

Great stuff, thanks.