HappyBuddha

I like it - the lyrics fit the mood of the piece really well. Bravo!

This is an ongoing assignment for my Creative Writing class, of which the end product will hopefully be a story of several (8+, roughly) pages. Every week or so, I'll be adding another page onto this topic, in keeping with the pace of homework in my class. I would greatly appreciate any and all commentary or support you readers feel like volunteering. Most of all, I hope you enjoy the story! Buttons Tom read the card with concealed delight, dancing on the inside to a tune his rigid face seemed not to hear. Looking up, he found his gaze drawn back again to the guilty pleasure of success: Lifting his eyes, he noiselessly slipped the card into his pocket and straightened once more in the mirror before taking a deep breath and emerging from the staff room. His stride was purposeful; his gaze hung unwaveringly upon his destination, that sleek silver portal. Indeed, he exuded resolution, the succinct pride of a man doing the job that he knows he does best. It didn’t waver in the slightest when he accidentally brushed against Evan, the new mail clerk. No, his stride didn’t break, his heart didn’t forget to beat and his gaze most certainly did not peel to the right in an effort to catch a happy glance of Evan’s handsome face. All these Not Events were swallowed by the rushing comfort of return to the familiarity of his agile cocoon. Happily ensconcing himself, he ran a gloved finger over the elegant buttons on the panel. He traced rows and numbers, finally settling on the round circle of #36. There he found it: that slight, invisible chip in its surface. To think those bastards in management called him part of a dying breed. A smile inflated his face as the doors to his elevator slid shut behind the day’s first guests.

Wow! I really like this Phoenix. I'll be frank - it seems unpolished to me, but that very feeling implies that it has the potential to be a really kickbutt poem. I usually comment deeply only on better poems, works I find captivating and evocative. Yours certainly ranks among those. Again, I want to stress that the base material you're working with here is great. I'm just trying to help your refine it with the following comments (which are all based off my opinion, not fact): I think that the 1st stanza might benefit from chopping off the last 2-3 lines. The bit about "a litany of sadness/for all that lost," seems a bit cliched and over the top. Perhaps if you edited the line preceding those to read, "my listless mantra," or, "my saddening mantra." I think you can capture the sadness without spelling it out as explicitly as you currently do. Bonking a reader over the head with your emotions is never as effective as hinting at them, putting the words together in such a way that they evoke those emotions within the reader, that they suggest something the reader can identify and empathize with. I think the 3rd and 4th lines of the third stanza are redunant. I don't think it would be too difficult to combine them into one line that implied the imagined foe's lifespan as attached to the speaker's. Perhaps you could use the metaphor of a parasite? That holds some real promise here. The fourth stanza is my favorite in this poem - it has some really simple and pristine imagery, especially in the latter half. Perhaps you could revise, "in the cold feel of the marble," to read better. Something like, "in the coldness of this marble," might do the trick. Note how I use, "this." It's more effective than, "the," because it implies familiarity, making the happiness you're trying to evoke less distant and more immediate for the reader.

*Hugs* It's never easy to say goodbye to a loved one, especially in such circumstances. I'm glad to see that you're able to look beyond the initial pain to the future, and what it holds.

One Night Stand Let these fingers dance, pirouetting over and through your exposed strings Let them pluck, then feel you shiver at each high-strung note Let them strum, meeting each scream with a dissonant thrust Here, in the hardness between moments, we resonate with mutual nudity, creating brief harmony within our tone-deaf hearts

A Hug My widespread arms find Fleeting doggy-doo goodness; Warm, soft, and spreading.

Very sweet and very accomplished. I like this piece I especially like how the first two lines feel stereotypically "depressing," but you then defy the reader's expectations by inverting the message.

*hugs* This poem hits hard in the right spots. You do a good job of painting the situation while leaving it vague enough that the reader can identify intimately with it. I have one suggestion for improvement. Consider the stanza which reads: I thought it would be cool if you replaced the last line with something like, "Because I can't stand this leaking roof anymore"

One Night Stand Let these fingers dance, pirouetting over and through your exposed strings Let them pluck, then feel you shiver at each high-strung note Let them strum, meeting each scream with a dissonant thrust Here, in the hardness between moments, we trumpet a mutual nudity, bringing brief harmony to our tone-deaf hearts

Very cute and funny - I like some of stage directions, they fit the play well I think it might be improved slightly if you made the symbolic "death" of the cuteness a tad more obvious. I of course got what happened, but only after the fact.

We have standards of quality to adhere to? Oh crap, I'm screwed!

Georgetown-Rosslyn Shuttle, 11:47 PM, June 26th, 2005 car spangled streets bulletproof eyes, the startling serpent hiss of bus brakes drowning my cold, stale streams of alcohol breath in these windows dark bodies break flourescent tinsel, silhouetting looming streets beyond Final Version.

Congratsy!

*Adds to the hugpile* So good to hear you're well! (Oh, and Kendricke, that sounds quite awesome - real kick-butt altruism)

The rhymes feel much less forced now - they're not perfect, but they're much, much better. I wouldn't worry too much about them from here on out

*Hugs to all affected* My most heartfelt empthaties (yes empathies; sympathy implies pity, empathy understanding) go out to those afflicted by this tragedy. I would like to volunteer what limited financial aid (very limited; I am rather poor) for any Pen members who have suffered terribly from the hurricane, and need whatever help they can get to piece things back together. On that note - I'm no Elder, but I think it would be awesome if we could amass a small Pen Relief Fund for Pen members hit hard by the hurricane, built from voluntary donations from those Pen members financially able to contribute something, however small. I know for a fact that this community certainly has the heart to carry out such a project - do you all think we have the means? To paraphase the quotation from Gwaihir/Merelas in Ayshela's signature, let us help those who have stood through the hurricane walk away, and clean their lives up again...

Sink car spangled streets bulletproof eyes, the startling serpent hiss of bus brakes drowning my cold, stale streams of alcohol-tinged breath in these windows dark bodies break reflected tinsel, silhouetting looming streets beyond I think the new title may hit closer. After a long absence from this poem, I can return afresh and see that 'alone' is far too blunt. At the same time, 'sink' captures the feeling but I'm not sure it works logically - it makes intuitive sense, but cannot be explicated. Perhaps that's what I'm looking for. Thank you all greatly for all the lovely commentary - I'm happy to know that I could unexpectedly make Parmenion's day Thank you especially Tzim - your comments are always piercing and well-constructed, in a way I find ever so refreshing, perhaps because that's how I like to comment myself.

*hugs* Some may hurt us deeply through their departure, but always remember that there are others, myself included, who will always be there for you.

Very well done, as always Cyril. I love how the last two lines take the reader outside of the original speaker's perspective to give a more unbiased, and revealing, look at the subject person. The first four lines are good in and of themselves, but the last two lines are the perfect complement to them, transforming a clever 4 line stanza into something deeper. One slight complaint - the balance of syllables in the first stanza is very good, imo, but I find the 3-syllable, "memory," a little disruptive to the otherwise lucid and easy composition of the stanza. Consider: "Some many little things to clutch" <-- 1-2-2-2-1 (Syllables - 10) "Clenching fingers locked in place" <-- 2-2-2-1 (9) "I sit and cling" <-- 1-1-1-1 (4) "To scraps of memory." <-- 1-1-1-3 (6) [i'm treating "things to" as a dual-syllabic word here, for purposes of linear repetition] That three-syllable, "memory," is jarring, after the solely mono/dual-syllabic words of the rest of the stanza, and after the 4 syllable line preceding it. As always with your poems, I find that the tiny flaws stand out more because of the otherwise admirably high quality of the poem. That, "memory," is but a minor drag on an otherwise excellent work that you should be proud to call your own.

Vlad's right, it's LD debating. Icky values (More nuclear war would make it better ;P)* Seriously though, I'd happily leap into this activity, but I'm going to be leaving my comp. behind in just a couple of days, so I won't be here for the carnival, it seems A big bummer, since this activity looks right up my alley. *This is an inside joke for debaters. If you don't get it, just move on.

alone car spangled streets bulletproof eyes, the startling serpent hiss of bus brakes meeting my cold, stale streams of alcohol-tinged breath in these windows dark bodies break reflected tinsel, silhouetting looming streets beyond. I feel like 'silhouetting' captures better the image I was reaching for - I'm more nervous about my modifications to the central stanza. I'm hesitantly sticking with this title (and would appreciate it if the post title was renamed Wyv ). Opinions are *very* welcome.

alone car spangled streets bulletproof eyes, the startling serpent hiss of bus brakes meets my cold, stale streams of alcohol-tinged breath in these windows dark bodies break reflected tinsel, silhouetting looming streets beyond. I feel like 'silhouetting' captures better the image I was reaching for - I'm more nervous about my modifications of the central stanza. I'm hesitantly sticking with this title (and would appreciate it if the post title was renamed Wyv ). Opinions are *very* welcome.

Disappoint? Pish! You've got us very happy just by being here

alone car spangled streets bulletproof eyes, the startling serpent hiss of bus brakes. yet unable to exhale, cold, stale streams of alcohol-tinged breath in these windows dark bodies break reflected tinsel, unmasking looming streets beyond. Hmm...I do believe I may be done - any thoughts?

Lonely these car spangled streets bulletproof eyes, the startling serpent hiss of bus brakes. yet unable to exhale, cold, stale streams of heavy breath in whose windows dark bodies break reflected tinsel, cloaking the glare that masks looming streets beyond cloooser... (thanks for the help, Sweet!)