New York Pitch Conference Reviews, Algonkian Writer Conferences, and Poetry Forums

Bob---


clarity in abundance. but "four" uses of the word photos. suggest some change-up.

also, "work a holic." clear, but prosaic.

maybe a reference to several of his tasks...?


bob, the right idea and i enjoyed reading the poem, a nostalgic vision formed for me. very good.



bernie

My original and unpublished poem that i prefer for additional coverage. Smiling at a Hotel Bar Window The year I came for you handsome as the Prince of Wales, a flat torso; my yellow slicker glistening with storm water; New girls replace your smile, waving from a bar hotel window, the dying voice of...

guys, many thanks for the comments and suggestions. i've made changes, but i want my hero to be a modern ruffian. he buys women.

any ISP nod is great.


bernie

The year I came for you handsome as the Prince of Wales, a flat torso; my yellow slicker glistening with storm water; New girls replace your smile, waving from a bar hotel window, the dying voice of a waiter in a corridor lit with a 40-watt bulb. A gown slipping to the floor. A gifted watch, haute h...

thanks...i enjoy a literal statement among the fragments...think how Ulysses opens: "Plump Buck Mulligan...." Driving to Town Late to Mail a Letter It is a cold and snowy night. The main street is deserted. The only things moving are swirls of snow. As I lift the mailbox door, I feel its cold iron. ...

It's the first line of my new western: Morning painted the color of a jewel worn by a Navajo woman marking a tourist ledger in Arizona. Later, the Asahi Shimbun translates my cowboy story as a long word in Japanese meaning: girl with p e a c o c k wings in blue dusk over Kobe. I pose beside my cowbo...

M---


the phrasing is so original despite the economy of actual language. I found myself more fully
experiencing each conflagration of powerful words---words that in my heart intermix and often
fail to catch fire as a result.


very original pom.

bernie

Oh, i like the line, i stay back in the land. subtle, yet clear. always, we try to avoid telling when we want to show.... ts in the wasteland: Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand If there were only water amongst the rock Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither st...

Bob... wonderful...but why not start fortissimo? There is only one bed to share, with Leopold snoring all night like a warthog. In the morning they stand in a long line, famished until their host nods and Wolfi flops down onto a harpsichord's bench, his legs dangling a foot above the floor. As he pl...

Sergio--- love the death described here, just when we carelessly thought we understood love. Poem of My Sleeping Pity With closed eyes, wide of intimate voices, I stop in the century of my sleeping pen. I contemplate her in her dream ... Sleep your sad night Detached from the ground where my life s...

M--- good job, but could you expose the reader to a deeper emotion, a savage image? the core for me is the poet on the garden edge, alone. how about sex? I bathe in the redened rose. Tulips force my legs, I succumb to the flower bed. Basil tells me something dirty. you see my devious thunking..... b...

Frank--- more directness, streamlining and getting out of the reader's way to directly feel the action. omit: Over compacted snow, turning into the Hoofdweg. A sudden freeze, maybe a draught from Greenland, A flicker of frost, enough to lock the wheels. The car slipping sideways. An old man in a lon...

B---

the imagery here is delicate, heartbreaking.



bernie

wonderful cascade of images in this narrative that holds together to make literary sense. you want a gay image here: And in a hundred years a hundred men will be happy men loving their husbands under those broad roofs, a perfume of forest i suggest something more physical, or visual: And in a hundre...

O--- big plus for original subject matter. i also like the narrative flow. only the final image, the close...can it be stronger? As their mother I knew when another soul had entered my body; the exact moment to be precise; if I had had a watch or a mobile, I could have set the time accurately. As th...

Billy: oh, that devastating final image: ...an echo becomes a scream, I lie in bed, the world turns under planetary eyelids like a fetus in the sheath of a womb. vivid and shattering. i stopped here. the image does not balance: bodies the color of the robes worn by Tibetan monks, earlobes hang like ...

billy....thanks. made/amended the three areas that you mention.

o.......and thanks to you, too. yes tight and i fumble for what i hope to produce.



bernie

Broad Swelling Air Clementines the color of cheeks washed in our rural morning air, the commonplace eyeglasses caramel colored, the vast eyes looking out into seamless faith, I cannot say I linger in words for which there is immutable time, recessive and swirled patterns, emotionless and gravely st...

Siva---


i particularly like a poem that steps swiftly into territory new to me.

very nice job.


big congrats on your IBPC award.


bernie

love the title....longer than some poems.enjoyed this exercise in cultural education. however, the close makes sense only when you understand the speaker is looking from a bus window into a lush seacoast. an English lady fell into its belly e rice plateaus And terraced crops And there are these beac...

a wonderful narrative that does not stumble or jumble. a clear and meaningful picture forms and deepens, a rich narrative. the reference to D'oyly, inspired. and to hear again of a water carrier i first learned about in Gunga Din, Bhisti. wonderful poem. masterful. a fine opportunity to learn new th...

In which ways do I miss you? Abandoned among cold rooms damp as water pipes, stumbling like a drunk in motel hallways. Nothing left to steal. The father bereft the mother absent. Love remembered, your clothes still hanging like vipers. The winter an empty Reykjavik in my heart, your flannel pajamas ...

s-- I like this very much, the opening grabbed me and would not let go. this was wonderful for me: She turned and I recognized the actress Jayalalitha hiding behind her facade, in a Coimbatore Book Stall and the Coimbatore nameed book stall. great balance adding to the feeling of mystery. so clear, ...

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.” ― Pablo Neruda “Tonight I...

bob...


love the title so much....


but just a thought for the end:


a boyfriend on his way,
the new swimsuit
I'm just learning to use



a little hint of ....sex....


bernie