From: satan@wpi.WPI.EDU (Matthew James Meyer)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: Re: a little something..
Date: 28 Dec 92 16:11:44 GMT
Organization: Worcester Polytechnic Institute
NNTP-Posting-Host: wpi.wpi.edu

In article <2294@loke.dc.luth.se> ingsa@dc.luth.se (Ingvar Strand) writes:
>
>                        ? ? ? ? ? ? ? 
>
>       Losing the foothold of life a little, floating up
>       to new heights and soaring high above all the
>       daily problems.  Letting ones mind roam around
>       freely within the space of thoughts and exploring
>       new vast areas of thinking.    Gaining new amazing
>       powers of observation but still looking at the
>       world as trough a whole array of smoothing
>       glasses,  filtering, leaving only the positive in
>       things.  Letting oneself slowly  and gracefully
>       fall and bounce up again on the endlessly soft and
>       pink clouds of emotions filling the skies of the
>       land within.   Then perhaps just a misplaced word
>       or action, sharp as the finest sword, cutting
>       through your world like lightning form a thousand
>       storms.  Creating destruction and darkness, as
>       swift as flipping a switch, devastating as sudden
>       total blindness.  You're falling and falling, like
>       shot down from a clear blue sky, crashing  down
>       the seemingly never ending pit of darkness, and
>       yet hitting ground with brute force as thrown from
>       the heights of eternity, feeling every split
>       moment while you are being scattered all over
>       space as though each takes a full eternity to
>       complete.   Plunging forward in nothingness seeing
>       the tiny light behind you getting smaller and
>       smaller.  Then through time you'll turn numb and
>       eventually apathetic, the gray dullness of the
>       ordinary day and life will take over and the days,
>       weeks and years will slowly be ticking by.  As
>       time passes your wings will start to heal and the
>       good and bad memories mix to form a new layer on
>       the pile of experiences, to be hidden and
>       forgotten or used and learned from.  Then perhaps
>       one day you meet again someone who can light the
>       fire inside, and hopefully you will dare your
>       wings once more, maybe slowly at first, kind of
>       probing to see if they can carry your weight,
>       before you throw yourself over the edge, onto the
>       unpredictable winds of emotions, once again
>       soaring high above the gray surface of ordinary
>       life. Perhaps one day you will be my wife.



a little bit of criticism you may choose to totally disregard if you like...

a phrase i have often heard from poets, authors, professors is:

		"show, don't tell"

in your work you have mixed some really vibrant images with explanations
of what they are.  it is my suggestion that you take the same work and
eliminate the explanations. let the images say what you are thinking and
leave it to the reader to find the meaning. the  reader, if experienced
in interpretation OR having been been thru those same emotions, will 
at least intuitively understand what you are saying.  They will get 
the feel of the work without you telling them - you showed them.


in specific, leave out phrases and words like:


"lives little problems" 
'let the mind roam"  - the roaming is good, don't tell them its you mind
"positive things" - use an image
"powers of observation" - don't tell them you have powers of observation
show them, steve martin did this very weell in the movie "Roxanne", in a
letter to daryll Hannah he said something to the affect of "you changed your
hairstyle the other day, just a little, but i noticed, though noonwe else did"
(not exactly poetic, but important )
"emotions"

"winds of emotion" - winds, i like... of emotion, i don't  using an image of
		wind without attaching  'of emotion' may bve just as affective
    		/efffective
good and bad memories" - use images, an iomage of a good or bad memory
"time passes" - use an image that signifies the passage of time- clocks,
		calandaers, seasons, hair, skin, holidays, weather

etc. etc. 

i hope this makes some sense...

this is just one persons thoughts, feel free to ignore them if you like

-satan













-- 
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* satan@wpi *
*           * my lips may promise, but my heart is a whore - nin
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Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems