All Activity

This stream auto-updates   

  1. Yesterday
  2. Last week
  3. Nostalgic and tight. An intriguing perspective, Barry. Tony
  4. Fishing industry dies, the community mirror went blind, historians tried to pour the Humber into a cup and claimed the winds bled but were unable to find a single drop of blood. My grandfather was a fisherman who claimed his leg was made of wood and told me to wait for the echo from heaven's stair where he is holding the mirror after giving it sight with story's of Hessle road, on a clear a night sight I swear I can see the mirrors many tears.
  5. Thanks Tony. The conversation of poems - clearly without reading your poems, the 'Cafe' poem would not have existed. best Phil
  6. Terrific work, Phil. Of course, I remember "Cafe" -- I love it -- and "Oils" was also very much to my liking. Tony
  7. Earlier
  8. I have two poems appearing here: https://theopenmouse.wordpress.com/2017/05/16/phil-wood-two-poems/ best Phil
  9. haiku journal 2017 jvg #15 warm hugs and kisses from grandkids with pink flowers family comes home
  10. Hi Barry, I love the dog, Caesar literally brings this tale to life. There are so many sad moments in this piece, beginning with the dog lying across the grave and the sound of the hungry child. This is an interesting poem with so many images on which to ponder. ~~ Tink
  11. The cemetery tree overlooking Dominic Kings grave had arms operating on it's heart, on branches hung an angel and King, Caesar Dominic's dog laid across his grave, the dog had been mute since the death of his owner. Street signs beyond the graveyard walked, whispering among themselves, the angel hanging muttered a street name, Dominic was trying to bury the sky. The moon turned into a cat, coughing out moon-balls, placing them in Caesar's eyes, the dog could now see street signs hanging upside down from the sky, his dead master dropped a lead for Caesar, they moved across the sun's mask which had a painting of the earth-a tear and a crimson coloured angel clambering for the tear. The sun was dreaming about it's inevitable collapse, with the king of flames chanting Dominic's name, he and Caesar could could hear the cries of a hungry child left alone for hours. They walked through a meadow to a tree where a young boy with a heart condition was swaying silently, aching for contact, how far had they both travelled?-the dead have no need for mathematics as they pass the ghost of a rose counting it's lost thorns, above it a clock full of cuckoos trying to escape eternal echoes, the cuckoo outside the clock is fixed with Dominic shocked at being unable to reach former selves beckoning him towards paradise. They walk on finding themselves climbing the steps of a lighthouse, reaching the top they see the gigantic figure of Dominic's father painting the glass black, he used to take the light bulb out when Dominic was a child leaving him in the dark. Caesar and Dominic go outside, they see that the father has no eyes, with gravestones instead of nails, Caesars eyes light up the names on the stones.
  12. Thanks Tink and Tony. I have a preference for writing short poems: the need to condense the primary motivation; an obsession with revision; and, of course, employment demands! Pleased you enjoyed. best Phil
  13. Phil, these are lovely entries. I just got through mentioning on Tinker's blog how I prefer short poems, and here you've presented three that are very much to my liking. Tony
  14. I prefer lyrical verse, and the sonnet is at the top of my list of favorite forms. I also happen to prefer short poems. Most people would probably agree that the sonnet is a short form, but when it comes to my own writing a sonnet is about as long as it gets; the longest poems I've written have been sonnets. Plenty of them have been Rainis Sonnets which purists may not consider to be sonnets at all, but I tend to characterize many poems that aren't exactly sonnets as sonnet-like. The Rainis sonnet happens to fit my own lyrical meditations very well. Tony
  15. Haiku Journal 2017 jvg #14 just as school lets out orange tractor drives by smart phones click away Sorry I couldn't resist, talking with my daughter in law while she was picking up my middle school granddaughter, this poor guy jams up school pickup traffic moving his tractor to a job nearby. He couldn't have chosen a worse time, apparently kids were pulling out their phones and clicking away. My own granddaughter was one of them, she sent the photo to me via text since I had already been told about it. At least that is all she did. She said that SnapChat, Instagram and Facebook are being blown up with various photos of "the orange tractor". I know it's hot out there big guy but wear a hat and keep your shirt on while driving slowly by 400 13 and 14 year olds just getting out of school, all with smart phones.
  16. but lights the drama in dark places deemed doomed match ignites in gloom
  17. Judging by the number of hits the articles in the "Sonnet" section receives, the Sonnet and it's many shapes and sizes wins hands down as the most popular verse form in the Reference Forum. Ranging from the purists to the new age anything goes poets and most of us in between, if I make one point about the Sonnet it is: the Sonnet is a lyrical meditation. It should sing to its reader. Meter, rhyme, pivot, even length, all are secondary to the fluid melody that should ring in your reader's ears. So we begin with the basics. This blog was set up to highlight some of the articles in the Reference Forum because many of the guests as well as the silent members come to this site to access the information in that forum. I am hoping that I might hear some of the poems that are being written by silent members and guests alike. You are all welcome to post poems or comments in the blog's reply thread. The Sonnet, Italian sonnetto or Occitan sonet both meaning "little song" or "little sound" is a lyrical meditation. It is a verse form of which some variation can be found in almost all Western cultures and even a few Asian cultures. It often offers a conflict or question, and then works on a solution or answer, all within fourteen lines. (Well sometimes more, sometimes less, but these are exceptions to the rules.) There are two dominant sonnet forms, the Petrarchan or Italian Sonnet and the English or Shakespearean Sonnet. The other sonnet forms seem to be either variations of these or less known predecessors. There are even forms that call themselves sonnets but might not be true sonnets, usually because they try to tell a story or they lack a turn or pivot or an appropriate number of lines. But if it sings . . . . The origin of the sonnet is said to have some uncertainty, though many believe it was born in the south of France or northern Italy created by the troubadours who sang for the courts. The earliest "true" sonnet is credited to Giacomo da Lentini of the Sicilian court of Frederick II (1197-1250). You can read a translation here at Sicilian Sonnet. Sonnet 43 from Songs of the Portugese by Elizabeth Barrett Browning How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace. I love thee to the level of everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints!---I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!---and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. All sonnets should include these elements: a lyrical meditation. The sonnet should sing. usually composed with themes of love, spirituality, nature, sorrow or celebration. a quatorzain , (a poem in 14 lines). metric. In English, the sonnet is primarily written in iambic pentameter. rhymed. The rhyme scheme is one of the features that identify the individual sonnets. (The Unrhymed and Blank sonnets by name deliberately lack rhyme which technically would be a nonce unrhymed scheme.) See the Sonnet Comparison Chart. written with question-answer or conflict-resolution structure. composed with a turn or change in tone. It is the positioning of this pivot or volta that is also a defining feature of sonnet.
  18. First, let me say I very much like your poem and how it's presented, the way it looks on the page with the accompanying artwork (photo/image). The most striking part for me is how the speaker observes that, " ... he would have come while we were eating." The sense of loss is always heightened with the realization that something solemn like the passing of a living thing has taken place while one was occupied with the mundane, with something trivial. I've always insisted that companion media pieces enhance the entire presentation of a poem, especially on a web page. I've included images with several of my own works, and I've seen others do it, too. Including an image certainly doesn't take away from a well crafted poem. It's like with album art. When a music lover buys an album, it's clearly about the music, but the album usually comes with extras: cover art, lyrics, etc. All of it is a tangible package like a book. You can hold it. But here's where my view differs with that of some others. Some people think poems are better in a book than on a web page. Yes, I still love books, but I don't love a well-crafted poem any more or any less whether it's presented in a manuscript, bound in a book, or displayed on a web page. Keats' "Bright Star" is exactly the same no matter the media ... with one exception. Though I love to hear a poem read out loud, I think it's incomplete if it's solely recited without the benefit of seeing the words/lines/stanzas, how they look in writing. Hearing a poem read (or reading it out loud myself) with the written work in front of me offers me the best of all worlds. I'm very much a proponent of artistic license, and I'm not such a fan of popular dogma or trendy limitations placed on art. Artistic license is yet another tool that enhances a work of art, even makes art art. Take a look at some lovely examples of naive art. What kind of a boring know-it-all would insist that Henry Rousseau's "The Repast of the Lion" is flawed because of inconsistencies in flora and fauna? Or that Juego de Domino's " The Domino Players" should be revised because it's unlikely a rooster would be present at a game of dominoes? That said, most of the time I do strive for accuracy in my own poems and do a lot of research when composing a poem. For example, I use a lot of geographical references, and in most cases, deviation from facts would only serve to confuse the reader. I try to keep it factual when deviation would serve no artistic purpose. On the other hand, in a recent topic I had expressed concern over my preferred use of the present tense toward the end of the poem when past tense might have made more factual sense. Our member Geoff kindly addressed the issue in a way that made me feel good about my preferred choice of present tense: "Yes I think this poem works fine in the present tense with the chronological issues you stated -- 'it is poetry after all' -- and the appreciative reader still requires the courtesy of having a little imaginative work to do ... " He has helped me out with his thoughtful replies other times where I have been bogged down by similar issues by reminding me of poetic license. In the referenced Rousseau painting, botany is not the point of the artwork, rather the take-away is something more profound. As for your poem, there is nothing that would make me presume that you imagined the incident, that the facts were off because it didn't happen and you wrote it without research without being able to back up the part about "exotic." This isn't to take away from the poster's comment; he knows about birds, and it perplexes him, but I think he's looking into it more than the average reader. Knowing nothing about birds, it's a non-issue for me why or in what way the bird was "exotic." It just was. Tony
  19. Grey was simply the color of his suit. The situation was serious but not black and actually I was expecting a white coat which is why the color was mentioned at all. I found that this form leaves me wanting to say more. As in the #4 I wanted to fit in "From the garden, the smell of Lavender clings to my fingers but it is the connection to my grandmother that conjures the emotion. Rosemary also clings to my clothes after walking in the garden. I love those scents. ~~Tink
  20. Hi Dave, This publication and how your poem is presented is impressive. How sad and lovely your poem is. I find it odd that in poetry the facts are questioned. I read your poem and it is clear you are sharing an experience. You provide only the color deeming it too exotic to be local. But you don't identify it because you don't know what it is. You are simply guessing, that is made apparent. A poem projects feeling not facts. The poet uses the tools he has available to communicate that emotion, be it what his eyes see or adjusting that image to draw focus to the emotion. We use word choice, word placement, metaphor, repetition, imagery. And yes embellishment of the facts if it will transcend the intellect and move to the heart of the reader. That is my feeling anyway. This is the day of alternative facts, some thing poetry has always employed. ~~Tink
  21. White-haired man in grey tailored suit touches my cold fingers with warm hands. Interesting Tink. I wasn't sure what the grey signified? enjoyed badge
  22. Autumn Sky Poetry re-ran a poem of mine in January (link below). This posting is accompanied by a nice photograph and the opportunity for reader commentary (much like PMO's blog concept.) Autumn Sky Poetry Archives One comment thread deals with the question of factuality, both for this poem and for poetry in general. In this case, the poem is completely accurate, justifying the speculations by the commentators as to the story behind the bird's tragic appearance on my doorstep. But literature is filled with pieces that take "poetic license." In our time of letting poetry develop and speak in the context of experience without pretense or superposition of meaning, is this still a valid device? - Dave
  23. Hi Tony, I like what you are doing with the site. It should encourage greater participation from a broader audience. It will be nice to be able to comment on honors like badger's (and others') publications. There are some hiccups to note. For example, "Notes from the Common Era" has experienced a reversal in the order of entries in its sections. We will need to figure out how to fix that. - Dave
  24. I will be entering this into a contest within a few weeks. At that time I will be obliged to hide this topic until the contest outcome is announced. Any recommendations before then would be gratefully received. - Dave
  25. Very moving, captures the sense of displacement and alienation experienced in the face of incomprehensible loss. Like Tony and Tink, I feel that the poem seems to draw its converging lines to the stupefying irony that the inability to come to grips with the tragedy is like a sequence of "rehearsals" - devastating, startles with the affirmation of helplessness. I agree with Tink that some of the internal and line-end breaks could be reconsidered. But my biggest problem with the piece is "senseless grief", which brings a glaring bromide into a highly original poem. Perhaps a phrase more akin to "ritual" or "motions" would work better here. Thank you, Barry. (I think!) Dave
  26. Wow you are really on a roll Badge. Congratulations again. All are good but I especially like the "bent nail" one. (I think it is the 2nd one) It makes me wonder. ~~Tink
  27. https://nutshellsandnuggets.tumblr.com/tagged/Phil-Wood Never been in this one before. You may notice some lines that were extracted for the poem I had in Streetcake! best Phil
  28. Thank you both. The mag. is not to everyone's taste, but I find it experimental and accessible.
  1. Load more activity