The Poets' Graves Workshop

two ships anchorless afternoon; a fierce sun thrusts its last, as another meek deadline waved, as it passed, at the two of us pissed, we just laughed we push self-pity around a bit, like peas while your napkin boats - quite unfit for high seas - launch themselves on the tropical breeze the afternoo...

Suzanne, Well, this certainly has a colourful spaceyness to it. Nothing is simple; but the more complicated it gets, the more beautiful it is. I struggled with some of this one, must confess - especially the physics (and comprehension) of the last part. you have a typo - diffusing. (I am probably be...

Dear Lovely, Let me first say that I have read a number of your postings and like what you do, very much. But I'm afraid I found this one inaccessible. The syntax and layout feels self-conscious and - dare I say it? - arbitrary (to me). For example, why the capitals in "Essence of Life', "Light and ...

Dog, Dalena, David & Aru,
It appeals to my sense of symmetry to see opinion so neatly divided.
Thanks!

Mic

Oh dear! Really? And there was me feeling rather pleased with myself for thinking I had hit on a different angle. Back to the drawing board.

these words of you

I mustn’t miss a word of you

words of you
dropped from other lips—

pages of you
turned in another’s gaze—

I will catch every word of you

I will write these words of you

Mesmie, The meaning of this one was lost on me, I'm afraid. I didn't get it at all. I covert ( ? is this a typo - do you mean covet? ) a self-imposed blinkering. Why should I feel shame when surprise is no surprise at all? I shall shape myself anew, moulded into beauty with still blurred edges and t...

Peter,

Is this poem a metaphor for lives ruined by heroin addiction?

Best

Mic

Dear Peter, There is some good rhythm in this piece, though it stumbles once or twice (e.g. l2 of your 4th stanza) - but this is easily corrected. I didn't really understand the line "A COLOUR PAINTER ON A PALLET KNIFE". You might perhaps have meant 'with' instead of 'on'. Quite liked your final lin...

'granite' ?

Mic

Aru, Lovely - thanks for the comments. Brian, thanks. I've incorporated your suggestions.

Mic

revised:- one in a million and one I wait a million beats for a single sound from beyond … I walk a million paces across the breadth of a single hair I climb a million strands of febrile DNA I watch a million corpuscles dressed in crimson cloaks a million atoms caught in pressed embrace a million pa...

Dear Black, A good first stanza, especially liked the first two lines - they landed me in the poem immediately, I could picture the scene. First two lines of second stanza are weak, and 'immeasurable' jolts the rhythm off-course. I liked "Lapping waters hypnotise/ each minute turns to hour' and "Her...

PS 2 - excuse me for being thick. What does IMHO stand for?

Sharra, Ray, Usnanura, BinB - thanks for the considered commentary. I expect to accommodate most of these excellent suggestions in my revision. What a great forum, really. PS R-Cox: I abandoned the ice in oil experiment (and expect to abandon that line). I was v. tempted though, most keen to know wh...

This one tasted good. Enjoyed the economy of language, nothing there that didn't need to be. For some reason it brought to mind this line by Sir John Suckling: "No grape that's kindly ripe could be/ So round, so plump, so soft, as she, / nor half so full of juice!"

Og, David, Suzanne - thanks for your comments. I might try it as a performance piece at Hammer & Tongue tonight. But other than that, I'm through with this one!

Mic

Lovely - thanks!
Neil - most appreciate your frank remarks.
Ros - Erm, I'm not exactly sure what would happen re ice in boiling oil. I'll give it a go tonight, and report back. And thank-you too, for technique suggestions.

Complex heights Love travels with you, you say, as we move together towards greater complexity I run my fingers through your well-kept words Climb upon the sinewy back of your telescopic sentences The afternoon - far below - has its fingers in its ears Its foot on the accelerator Dishevelled senten...

Amusing portraits of Desire, Prudence and Sweet Contentment. Prudence is a bit of rude guest, no? This I like, goes against type (I imagine parsimonious Prudence as careful, considerate, meticulous). Your foot-stamping, crabby, bad-tempered Prudence is funny. I like the 'sustain' / 'rain' half rhyme...

These have a coy, quiet beauty about them. I like the sequence of them. Satisfying. Like dropping pebbles in a pond and watching the ripples spread out. No. 3 has the best ripples, for me. Instead of 'read out' I wonder if 'announce' would work?

Ray, Sharra, Ros and Brian - sincere thanks for your candid feedback. This is the point, no? So no apologies needed, no offense taken. It's scary - but exciting - up here. I look forward to the spectacle of one or two more of my babies being lobbed off the cliff alive and screaming.

through through and through through slap, through slew through slam, through slight through floe, through flux through flinch, through flight through dimming days through gleaming nights through untold tales through complex heights through bone, through pain through ache, through vein -- love trave...

I like 'decorum'. I like how it collides with "They can all piss off" later. I like the way its pomposity can do nothing but concede ground to her straight-forward, no messing, tell it how it is, own-minded 'They can all piss-off'. He's a bit stuck-up (but nice enough). She's ace (in my opinion). Ha...

Gritty, but poignant. I am probably massively missing the point, but this poem seems to me to be about an ordinary mum that has lost the battle to breast cancer. The prosaic language and 'breezy' references to gruesome details (the discarded fake breast, gummy lipstick imprints) I find rather moving...