Thunderstruck

REVISING THIS- a place to plop my thoughts : )
speak if you wish... thx.


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ok - i'm taking a chance here... wanted to explain myself on this poem and will nix this thread when you have all had your say : )

several responses came in regarding this poem:


Thunderstruck


Thunderstruck,
Her skirt
Catching light
Played on air,

Catching glimpses
Through trees,

Wary eye
On the incoming storm,

Compass spinning,
She’s
Catching crumbs.


Yeah - a week later i do agree that it was not yet complete. I was thinking about little red riding hood on her walk through the woods and then threw in the idea of gretel and her crumbs. I was pondering the idea of ignoring the inevitable - does that make sense?

I will work in it some more and get back to you... feedback anyone?

hey Hot KItty

First off, LOVE your screenname

and your poem is really good. It leaves some to the imagination, just enough to tantalize. The use o f the storm is really good, and the crumbs leave me wondering...where from? Little Red isnt mentioned, implied, crumbs sort of means to me that a lover might have strayed, leaving you only what was left and the thunderstruck was how you payed him/her back


anyway, I liked it



maria

as i read, i am not interested by the words at all.

to me, it's far too vague.

IMO, there's nothing definitive enough for the reader to grab and hold . . . just a string of images that go nowhere.

and welcome, of course. you are a new name to me, though my thread-reading lately has been spotty at best.

HotKittySpank said:

ok - i'm taking a chance here... wanted to explain myself on this poem and will nix this thread when you have all had your say : )

several responses came in regarding this poem:


Thunderstruck


Thunderstruck,
Her skirt
Catching light
Played on air,

Catching glimpses
Through trees,

Wary eye
On the incoming storm,

Compass spinning,
She’s
Catching crumbs.


Yeah - a week later i do agree that it was not yet complete. I was thinking about little red riding hood on her walk through the woods and then threw in the idea of gretel and her crumbs. I was pondering the idea of ignoring the inevitable - does that make sense?

I will work in it some more and get back to you... feedback anyone?

Click to expand...

when you mentioned little red riding hood (~_*) it all come together, but I agree with you that even with that, it could use more to make a bigger impact. Nice write.

vagueries....

OKay, so it's vague. BUT, ( that explains my attraction some men in my life) however

you could remedy the vagueness in the poem by a really good Title!!

I still like it, liked where it took my imagination, and sometimes that is all a poem can be asked to do... for me anyway

ok - thanks for the replies. too vague...needs better title...imagery is not enough to carry...not enough meat.

will rework and pop it back up here in a bit. : )

HotKittySpank said:

ok - thanks for the replies. too vague...needs better title...imagery is not enough to carry...not enough meat.

will rework and pop it back up here in a bit. : )

Click to expand...

Thunderstruck,
Her skirt
Catching light
Played on air,

Catching glimpses
Through trees,

Wary eye
On the incoming storm,

Compass {her realm}
spinning,
She’s
Catching crumbs
left by passing prey

she lifts her skirt
riding thunder home...

I see an ending something like this...

also compass doesn't work well to me as it shifts the image..imho..hope this helps

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HotKittySpank said:

ok - second pass - here goes nothin'


Thunderstruck,
Her skirt
Catching light
Played on air,

Frozen in knowing
Forked trails,

Howling wolves
In the wood
Pushing indecision,

Lost along the way
Bowing to wind
Whipping choices,

Catching glimpses
Through trees,

Wary eye
On the incoming storm,

Compass spinning,
She turns
Following crumbs.

Click to expand...

tuning thoughts in a different direction...I think is works..

once more...

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review please : )

Matador


Six miles of walking
Over poison oak, sliding dunes
To gawk at elephant seals
Their bellow trucks sagging
Giant blubber bodies mellow
Sun bathing upon this
Rotting seaweed, beached

Six miles in breezy sunshine to
View them, sandals full of sand
Stopped at twenty-five yards
No less, no closer
Or bulls charging we must run!

We few viewers jockey
Behind the sand line
Holding our offended noses
As the streamlined bodies
Lie like slugs, disinterested

Turning to leave this
Stinking scene filled
With fellow viewers
Capacity too far over
A red bi-plane cuts
Across the blue sky
In barrel rolls, back
And forth over my
Six miles of poison oak
My dunes of hopeful
Elephant seal views
His loops fill the sky

I trudge back slipping
In loose sand melting
Beneath my feet, watching
Him flying, his practiced
Rolls and climbs delight
Aiming for precision

Straight up he shoots
And stalling, begins
His silent fall toward
My rambling pathway
His plane a shiny red
Toy-like plummeting
Quietly through sky
I watch him, waiting
‘come on, come on!’

Anticipating the crash
And boom, to run!
In the fire of poisoned
Oak and melting sand
His engine sputters back
With my too close shutter
And begins again

His barrel rolls better
My ground more firm
We two soldier on,
Above me he climbs, again
Straight into sky and clouds
Straight above me, he

Stalls, my neck rolls back
Looking up into his fall
His shiny red bull nose
Plummets straight toward me
Toward the ground I hold
A silent missile, warning

I think, to run?
I stand my ground waiting
Heels dug in, sandals full
Silence screaming, run!

‘come on, come on!’
I bellow against his charge
We in a line of frozen time
The ground, the plane, and I

Engine snorting fumes
He sputters, starts again
And rolls right by


(not sure about the title...also feel that this end is too abrupt? i know that i am not following any conventional rhythm or rhyming scheme, does it work anyway? i thought the experience was worth writing about. does 'six miles' need to be tied back in to the end? please, any helpful comments welcomed... thank you!)

Two

I felt like I was reading two poems as the two events seemed only connected by the fact that they occured during a hike you took on the beach. The focus seemed split between some nice similies in describing the sea lions and then the stunt plane's stall and subsequent recovery. You might consider writing a poem about each individual experience, or else somehow concentrate your focus on the hike and use something about the hike to tie these two very different events together. Perhaps something that eploits a common ground between the events.

Just some thoughts...

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uuuuh.

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HotKittySpank said:

since i seem to be talking to myself, i'm feeling that this is simple prose put in a chopped up format. rechopped it: still prose. i don't think i am a poet. i think i just like sounds and images.

Click to expand...

I will offer my 30 cents worth of advice. I think this could be a good poem with some editing. There needs to be more linking of sentences, imho, and better rephrasing of the material to give the reader something stronger to hold onto.

Consider the first stanza with a couple of changes (to illustrate my points) :

Six miles of walking over poison oak, sliding dunes
to gawk at elephant seals, sagging like giant blubber
bodies under the mellow sun

THANK YOU! i read some of your advice VD (forgot which thread) and you said to go back, go back and edit, go back again. i tend to jump too quickly - i worry however that i am beating a dead horse sometimes... : )

perhaps i should just walk away from it for a while - come back with fresh eyes.

many thanks again dearie.

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when you create something,
..........something beautiful;

they say that if you love
something, you set it free.
it will return to you if it
was meant to be.

........will love release me?

give me Klimt kisses,
the kind with circled flowers
and sparkles that float among
overgrown vines. burnished
gold as your arms enfold
me, your fingers curled up
in my tendriled hair.


...
not quite yet.

.......palms of flowers;
..............i am gifting
..love in every handful

...........holding hands
...our bouquet blooms

the first piece of feedback/advice i would give you is to stop centering your poems, and justifying them to the right, and playing with size and visuals and artificial things like that. forget about gimmicks,

and just write poetry, justified left.

TheRainMan said:

the first piece of feedback/advice i would give you is to stop centering your poems, and justifying them to the right, and playing with size and visuals and artificial things like that. forget about gimmicks,

and just write poetry, justified left.

Click to expand...

HAAHHAHHAHHHAAAAAA! you are too fun. thank you for speaking your mind to me again - it is an honor. i tip my head to you good sir.

the way i figure it is, if i play with everything, experiment with everything, then i can find what i like best. does that make sense? besides, i like to play. it would be no fun if i wasn't allowed to play. : ) and, the visual artist in me wants to see things on the page not just see/hear them in my mind. yea? ( i just learned how to do color, size, centering - so you may see it a bit more from me until i get it out of my system - sorry!)

every 'poem' i have done is slightly different from the rest (not all posted under this name). are we supposed to find a voice, a style? what if i have many voices? what if i can't contain/constrain myself to one way of being?
ahhh... dilemmas, exploding all over the place.

thank you again for the advice, i truly appreciate it. --hks

- and clearly i need it! ; )

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in the language of our lunas
the silence can be broken
in many places

the pauses spaced painfully
in playful places reaching
out of darkness

but when we sing openly
it moves our satellites
into such harmony

gods weep at the beauty
wrought between those
sweet expressions

they wait with bated breath
until the lulled communion
breaks again



(justified: left, just the way you like it... : )

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