Silver WInd

Thank you very much, sense I had some concerns about how this poem turned out, I rather apperciate your comments.

This is another new style of my creation. I call it Sonata, becasue it is molded after the sonata musical form. I was somewhat inpsiered by the Duran Duran song Rio when writing this poem, though I do not know why, that just sort of came into my head. Rio She danced upon golden sand her smile would dull the sun within her heart she owned the land she danced upon golden sand bright radiance that would stun beauty that left all at her command her smile would dull the sun

This poem is in a style I created myself I call it Symphonic verse because it is inpsired by and molded after the form and structure of a musical symphony, though for poetic reasons, I did make a few adaptations and alterations, for the most part it follows the same form a symphon does. The structure and schme of the poem is as follows: AbCDcBA abCDcBA aAbBCcDD abACDA The poem itself I think may be weak in a few areas but to really get a feel of the form and how it looks I had to write something acutally using the form, so I weclome any suggestions on impovements I could make to polish the poem up, as long as it follows with the intended style and the rhyme scheme above. Rainbow A splash of color across the sky glimpse of beauty brightens the gloom sweetly birds being to sing painted strokes of blue and gray broken by a colored ring no longer shall dark clouds loom a splash of color across the sky. Little specks of brown and black fly while down below a blush of new bloom sweetly birds begin to sing painted strokes of blue and gray the last misty drizzle with a gentle ping no longer shall dark clouds loom a splash of color across the sky. Slowly the clouds begin to shy a splash of color across the sky gently wind sweeps away melancholy like a broom no longer shall dark clouds loom sweetly birds begin to sing the last of moisture tries to cling painted strokes of blue and gray painted strokes of blue and gray. To remain the clouds still try two morning doves sit as bride and groom a splash of color across the sky sweetly birds being to sing painted strokes of blue and gray a splash of color across the sky.

View A single blush within a square inch a glimpse of green and splash of blue painted hills fade to from the foreground. A box between two worlds oppression of walls which would squeeze out the last drops of life. While somewhere beyond blooms touched by the sun and birds may sing. A tormentuous square carved out in for neat sides to give speculation for what lay in wait and may never be touched. Colors merged and pulled apart, a living painting teasing escape that dwells only far within the mind. And the body stays rooted to hard floors and lids snapped tight in place.

Well as usual with your work, it is interesting and I apperciate the creativity and uniquness of it. I am not sure what to make of the inconsistent use of rhyme and repitition, as it appears to be done intentionally but I do not see just what it is accomplishing. The last line seems completely out of place with the rest of the poem, and does it seem to sit it, but just sort of stands alone out there, not really connected to anything.

I really like this, I think the first two stanzas are my faveorite.

That is because I happen to agree with you on this one, which I know does not happen often

The Other Side It had all began as a dream sweetly drifting upon a stream how gentle the first breath of night welcome is the end of daylight wrapped in the comfort of moonlight Shadows give birth to new found fright a cry out for the lost delight with each heartbeat fear grows tight it had all began as a dream and came to an end with a scream.

I can respect your feelings on this poem and see your point, part of the problem is the style this was written in is a bit restrictive, but even within the limitations of the style perhaps it could have been worked out better.

For your information I have never posted more then one poem in a single day Sacrifice has always been a part of the Voodon and Santeria, espcially in Santeria it is common to make sacrifices to petention to the Orisha's for varrious different things

You don't remeber me? Poetry goes in the Banquet Room I just really like this image, there use to be a smaller version of it, but I cannot find it now.

I do? I do not remeber that. What did I miss?

Well here is an old face from the past

Sacrifice A crimson splash given in offering The gift accepted a request the Orisha granted.

Thank you

Hehe Italian seems to be pretty popular here

La Primavera Her eyes were shining with sweet light to see her smile was delight her silken skin seemed to glow bright she was a sight she was a sight Standing far beyond all reproach one feared to break her in approach upon her breast a silver broach dark would encroach dark would encroach With a look shadows she would slay with her it always feels like day dancing in the flowers of May love she would say love she would say So close your eyes and go to sleep never fear of have to weep through winter will begin to creep still she will leap still she will leap.

Listen, Watch, Feel I really liked this one becasue of the originality of the subject, poetry insptire by Native American stories and lore are not seen very often. And I love the way the poem itself is written in much the same style as a Native American story might be told. It almost has that kind of chant feel to it like the rythem of a beating drum. Storyteller I really liked the contrast of these lines and you you repated them in verse of each other. But over all though the poem was written well, I just did not feel that there was anything new about it. After those first lines it had a kind of a dull feeling to it, and nothing really stood out about it. Though simple can be a good thing in some cases, this poem perhaps could use something a bit more.

Thank you, well I have always held the moon sacred, and felt close to the moon and fascinated by it, and I feel I have a close relationship with the Goddess of the Moon, so it is just an imporant part of my life, so it often shows up in my poetry, though it is not nessiarly something I do intentionaly but thoughts of the moon does often just drift into my mind while I write.

I really like the concept of this poem, it paints a lovely picture, with some great descriptions. I really love the image of Keeping in mind that this is just a draft, here are some posisble considerations for the revision It may sound better if you left out the first it, and instead said soft gray down untouched, It’s base—alabaster white—unseen, and this is quite minor and may just be me, but to me, Wandering where comes off a bit awakard to read. I eagerly await to see the completed version, you are off to a really good start

Hehe would you really be able to eat all that? I think I would also at the end throw in a Banna Split for desert for my last meal

They were talking about this on the raido earlier today and though a bit morbid perhaps, I thought it could also make for a fun and intresing dicussion. What would you want your last meal to be? For me I think I would want a banquet catered by The Olive Garden, and to try and eat a little from all of my favorite dishes of thiers

The Creeper It is the creeper as soon as it enters the consciousness it will settle upon the chest slowly it steals the breath gnaws upon fears, hopes, and dreams a weight that tells you when it is there you squirm and twist trying to break free wicked claws dig into the skin eating away inch by inch it only grows tail twisting round acidity salivating once begun panic sets in and your psyche thrashes so the creeper feeds growing fatter with every gnash hungry, angry teeth and a belly never full the weight grows heavier when you are near to break do you defeat the creeper or does the creeper consume you?

This was really good, I loved the use of repitition in this poem, it worked quite well. It was very profound and touching.

This was a great story, very touching. But animal stories always have to end so sad, hehe, but well that is the way it goes. Nicely done.