New York Pitch Conferences and Reviews, Algonkian Writer Conferences, Poetry and Authors

Oh I see that, but yes I’m with other board

Thanks Michael, I will consider your suggestion.
I am representing another board. I haven't been nominated here anyway.

Very well-written piece. I echo Judy and Bob’s suggestions.

Wow! No nits.

Yes, great imagination and well-written. Stanza’s 1,4,5,6, 7 are my favorites, but all good.

Thanks Judy, sometimes I write with punctuation just because and realize later the poem doesn’t call for it.

Another site has nominated it for IBPC. Thanks for commenting Bob andJudy.

thanks Judy, i’ll Use your suggestion.

Bob, I’ve put two ideas together from Bible. God knows the number of feathers on a sparrow and little ones refers to Jesus talking about children.

removed

Thanks Kenneth. Oh, you are so right, Judy, I wrote this directly into the post without rewrite, so it needs some touch-up. I just like to get stuff out, sometimes it doesn't need anything. I'll delete the "Seems". I've been trying to avoid a lot of nonessential words like: but, just, seems, etc., e...

I love so many of the images in this poem. The poem is better without all the pronouns.

Just my editing, take or leave, it's your poem. I would like a more personal title. The retinue around me keeps vigil for what I don't know, They watch every move, every deal with uncanny insight, I am neither extraordinary nor foolish, in between both a very ordinary one. Those eyes behind my back ...

That final line is perfect. Whole poem good. There's a lot of repetition but it seems to work.

I Could Only Write This Today I lie down next to my father we're looking up into the sky a few drifting clouds and the blue of forgetfulness. I feel him thinking like when I was a kid. He'd be planning some new venture, the one to make us rich. Different this time in a way I'd never felt. He's grey...

A senyru I wrote:

twilight
a skunk stops
to smell the roses

Sorry, double post

The poem is playing with one of the ideas in the novel.
Hopefully the reader doesn’t have to know what that is.
Thanks Kenneth

The poem is playing with one of the ideas in the novel.

Thanks Kenneth

Thanks Kenneth

I was thinking this is about abortion, but what do I know. Then the first 2 stanzas make sense to me.

The Wild Palms* Yes, yes, the wind, the wind! Blow me down again, again. The water's rising, the banks are overflowing. Hallelujah! I say it as a sinner, God, it's the best I can do. How many times. Too many to count. You've numbered them all like feathers of the least little ones. I miss the sword...

Hey, thanks Bob that was a slip of the unconscious. I'll change it.

How Far The River

I hear it. A blues
song for all the leaving
anyone can stand.

The current a stubborn
child. No conscience
to hold it back. Driven

to arrive. Bumping into
fear, fish in the depths
never see the light.

The water muddy.
A whirlpool of illusions.
Banks lifted high as skirts.

Good poem, reminds of my younger days. And brought to mind Faulkner's novel, "The Wild Palms" for some reason.

Hi, Bob, good poem about alcoholism and families often tip-toeing around it. I like the punch part, it is very clear to me.