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O---


first three lines, then get out of town.


the rest is telly, overblown and just plain....uneventfull.


bernie

Siva--- for the anglo American, this is somewhat exotic...but exotic does not make a pom.... be careful to not recite facts like a museum docent giving a tour. I suggest killing all of verse 2. the fascinating detail to me was the wafting smell of the new, the modern crematorium. and how poignant, a...

Michael--- am not clear about the age of these comments....even my poetry pal Yolly---if only this signaled her return to these Forums.... however, I strip lines and only use lines 3,4 and 5. do you need the singer?---before she found God...whom I love, luv, with unabashed joy. but the "moog" refere...

Frank--- I champion you in this pom. Excellent opening, fast, visual and jolting. first, original, original subject matter. much applause, there. Second, the narrative flow, again modern and creative. a bit ragged like the disorienting trip itself. Finally, the selected details---that pilot is great...

Michael--- made your suggested changes---thanks for the close edit. I was thinking of the novel, Sankar's cavalcade of stories---circa 1960's, and yes, merchant of venice and the lines about mercy. the image of mercy falling like rain. even more so, a second poem in this setting with a jewish protag...

It rained in Chowringhee a short while ago and her tangled hair flew lopsided. The vicissitudes of the city dead to me like lead paint over Rabindra Setu bridge. The pillow case and towel bare a trace scent of pectin. Mercy for myself, end stage. In dizzy rain the windows steam over. Any blind fool ...

Bob---

the poem asks three questions.

and begins advertising this insight:

He was calm and gentle,


the revised poem is a smooth read. the details that make him more human, are well selected.


a good poem.



bernie

HI m.... did you mean this pom: Late Year Winter long in tooth, but winter all right. Used automobiles decorously rusted. Buses, heavy and slow as water buffalo. Women in scarfs like Arabs in Sri Lanka. The men tramp the arctic with Shackleton. The city cold as Rejevec or Pyonyag. Stores close early...

Bob--- Theo is a great brother, but he pales standing next to the two great post-impressionist painters I cannot help focusing on. When you see a Gauguin, you think, This man is living in a dream world. When you see a van Gogh, you think, This dream world is living in a man. The New Yorker Jan 29, 2...

Bob--- once again, major subject matter. a towering fountain that commanded my attention from the bold title---the discursive nature of that title was fine. however, there is little gas in the tank of the narrator Adeline Ravoux, i want to know about Van Gogh. more, somehow, than his stray thoughts ...

yes, complicated story telling, and beautifully illustrated. the final line, just wonderful:


I wash the Tangerine and Marigold from my Purdy brushes
opening beautiful veins of color in the porcelain sink.


I second the nomination.


bernie

F--- wonderful subject matter, fresh and inviting. the narrative unfolds a little more with each photo. his hand blurred, outside of depth of field. easy to remove one "of." would avoid running into steinbeck's west of eden---title conflict. you have seen the long descriptive poem that so appealed t...

Bob--- the subject matter so original, grabbed me immediately and the poem delivered. this series of lines just great: There were many talented pianists in Vienna, ones who didn't look like they had slept overnight in a park. only thing i wondered, would you want to mention a chaffing dish of meat s...

Heart Two Suit Sizes Small The lunch truck lost a Michelin star, a lunch a lunch wagon in the open, no cover from rain over vacant men holding rice and Mexican sandwiches, beyond a kerosene lamp a slow dark begins with an idle purpose. Never Care For What They Say, Never Care for Games They Play.* ...

Bob--- that means a lot to me. you're awfully good with mood and image, that's why your comment is especially sweet. Michael gives a link to a poem that is in my top 20. so, also, her having it out with melancholy . sensational then, even stronger today. her quiet use of sensuous, original detail to...

I hear you in another room cooking with our daughter and calling from the stove. Silverware for each of us, napkins and a water glass, a solitary creamery pot white as a chef's apron. The jam jar, cold and fresh like a poolside aperitif. A drawing book is pushed to the table's edge, a crayon outline...

hey Billy--- long time no see, hope the health is holding. this pom, gut level issues fought in places with a rusty bayonet, elsewhere you open a chest of gems. here are the softer images that grabbed my attention: like harlots walking the streets. A drunk, laughing and talking to himself, twirls an...

hi Bob:


yup, I agree. thanks for your thoughts.


bernie

florid penis....i understand you. but i like a dangerous image. risky....not just pretty poems, but an edge, sometime, too. it's just out, but a blockbuster to me....Arundhati Roy---of Delhi. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness... for me, just fantastic....look at this key excerpt: The next morning, wh...

Bob---

the edit you suggest is terrific. I'm adopting it whole.

and thanks for your comments.


bernie

Late Year Winter long in tooth, but winter all right. Used automobiles decorously rusted. Buses, heavy and slow as water buffalo. Women in scarfs like Arabs in Sri Lanka. The men tramp the arctic with Shackleton. The city cold as Rejevec or Pyonyag. Stores close early, street traffic thins. Traffic...

From a Democracy Now broadcast One of the most anticipated novels of 2017, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy will hit bookstands across India today, June 6. The novel comes 20 years after the author's The God of Small Things, which won the Booker Prize in 1997 and was a bestseller in...

Bob: lovely work. the feeling lingers long after closing the poem. a thought about the opening, you know I am a fanatic about strong openings.... I might hint at the bird image....so the close is still fresh at the end. Calm as a blue heron. beautiful impression made there, but probably no need to m...

Near the great gate of Kiev I met my personal Russian. It was a Mussorsky concert, when she spoke her English was better than mine. My third year in Moscow, a foreign correspondent, but I was a school boy immediately in love when she turned her face to me lighted with ballroom grace, candles first l...

Bob--- you stir my heart. and Lee's poem, the last verse: But I know it is because of the way my mother’s hair falls when he pulls the pins out. Easily, like the curtains when they untie them in the evening. oh, i wish i had thought of the wonderful detail, pins, pins when removed, the sound of hair...