The Critique Thread....Beware

[tecoyah]

In this thread we have a place for true and personal comments about the work of our peers.....lets not abuse it, or each other....and so, a few Rules:


1) Do not place your work in this thread unless you are ready for it to be torn apart.

2) Please accept constructive critique for what it is.....an attempt to help you.

3) When posting critique of anothers work, the rules of civility we have in place for TFP apply.

4) Abusive, or otherwise inappropriate comment will be removed and the poster slapped with a large smelly fish.

[tecoyah]

I have always wanted opinion on this one......

Please rip away....I find it weak


Pacific


Mist kicked up by gusts
Far off places leave their scent on beaded drops
This ocean is mine
Each cracked angle of foam that never stops
Licking rocks to sand
Ever making patterns on my beached mind
Floating natures toys
Buried in your breath for me to find

[ngdawg]

perhaps you find it weak because, unlike most of your work, it's straight forward in descriptives. nothing wrong with that.
I would change 'ever making patterns on my beached mind' to something more like 'patterns forever etched on my beached mind', thus eliminating the 'ing' suffix that repeats.
otherwise, it's not as weak as you perceive it to be.

[J.R.V.A.]

Well I'm not much of a critic, as I enjoy most poetry as I read it to get something out of it, not to find something wrong with it. I really like this idea of this thread, and I would like to post a bit of my stuff to get some criticism from others. As for this piece, as the way you write always make me feel, the only thing I found wrong with it was it reminded me of a girl I once knew.....And a place I once was that wasn't so great...but I guess that really was'nt something wrong, is'nt that what good poetry is supposed to do?
Anyway, I think ngdawg's suggestion was good. I like how she( Sorry )took what I thought was good, and seemed to make it a bit better. Not weak to me either.

[ngdawg]

/hijacks for just a second and whispers to JRVA-*I'm a 'she'*

[J.R.V.A.]

I know you are a person
But gender? Know not I
For never have I met you
Or looked into your eyes

[ngdawg]

Technically, the words I and eye are homonyms.

I post for all the board to see
The attributes I possess
It's clear to see who I am
In various stages of undress
Some are plain
Some are regal
And some are considered 'art'
I take great pride in what I do
To set myself apart
Take the time to have a look
And you notice the true me
So that next time when we speak again
You will know I am a 'she'

[vonstalhein]

i want to say what a good idea this thread is. I've been trying to offer a bit more constructive criticism and ask for it too in my threads...hope i've not unduly upset anyone. I think just one thread will get lost track of too quickly, so i think maybe a list of authors who are prepared to have their work 'ripped apart' would be more suitable? I certainly want people to comment on mine...else how do i know if it's good or not? And believe it or not, i DO care what others think!

Edit:
Added link to my thread, where i would like BRUTALLY HONEST CONSTRUCTIVE AND DESTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!

http://www.tfproject.org/tfp/showthr...t=33839&page=2

[J.R.V.A.]

Technically, the words I and eye are homonyms.

I post for all the board to see
The attributes I possess
It's clear to see who I am
In various stages of undress
Some are plain
Some are regal
And some are considered 'art'
I take great pride in what I do
To set myself apart
Take the time to have a look
And you notice the true me
So that next time when we speak again
You will know I am a 'she'

I really like this, although the line

"And you notice the true me"

Would seem to flow better with
"You'll notice the true me"
Just my thoughts...


Aye I say, as you see I
Through eyes of yet another
If I had read your work you see
I'd know you wern't my brother
A sister maybe or just a friend
That writes with a smooth prose
A woman yes but nonetheless
I have'nt seen your dress
I seem to be a bit bashful
although your words are clear
I'll know from now on that you are
A she and not a man

[J.R.V.A.]

Originally Posted by vonstalhein

i want to say what a good idea this thread is. I've been trying to offer a bit more constructive criticism and ask for it too in my threads...hope i've not unduly upset anyone. I think just one thread will get lost track of too quickly, so i think maybe a list of authors who are prepared to have their work 'ripped apart' would be more suitable? I certainly want people to comment on mine...else how do i know if it's good or not? And believe it or not, i DO care what others think!

Edit:
Added link to my thread, where i would like BRUTALLY HONEST CONSTRUCTIVE AND DESTRUCTIVE CRITICISM!

http://www.tfproject.org/tfp/showthr...t=33839&page=2

I agree With Von.....although I don't know how to post a link to My stuff, so I hope it's ok to post a few here....I would really appericate honest comments also

[vonstalhein]

J.R, you can click the URL button on the tool bar when you create a reply that isn't a 'quick reply' or, type ...

Edit 3: Damnit...i can't STOP making URLS now. Just put [ U r l ] on one side and [ / u r l ] on the other. (without the silly spacings...)

[amonkie]

Tecoyah has made this a sticky so it is attached to the top of the page - another option might be for the writer to post their poem here, and people could choose to respond in the form of PM as well.

[vonstalhein]

When i meant getting lost track of though i just meant if too many people post poems AND replies in this thread. I think the PM or Link methods are best. A compilation of any links posted to poetry threads could maybe go at the top?

[J.R.V.A.]

I would really like some honest comments on this...I wrote it a while back, and I would like some feedback on it...Thanks in advance...

Life was good

Sitting in the backseat, I smiled as we drove along.
Dad was in a grumpy mood this morning, but I knew he
would be better when we got to the circus place. We
were almost there, so I kept quiet hoping he wouldn't
notice me until we got there. He always said, "keep
quiet if you know what's good for you." I didn't always
know what was good for me, but I knew on these
mornings it was best to stay clear of him until he
cheered up. I wondered why he had brought me along.
Was it because he liked to take me for rides with him?
Or because I was lying on the floor in the hall and
he almost tripped over me? Oh well, at least I got to
go and the other kids had to stay home. I knew I would
probably get a bag of chips or something. It was worth
it. I wondered if we were going to make it this time. Last
time we had gone, the car had broken down and we walked
to the circus place. That was a long walk, dad hollering
at me to hurry up and me running as fast as I could.
He could sure walk fast when he had a mind to.
At least I got a soda and a bag of chips that time.

I wondered why we drove this old jalopy when all the
kids I knew had newer cars. Dad said he liked this old
Chrysler, but I didn't like to be seen in it. All the
kids made fun of me. School was the worst. I would get
teased about everything from our old car to the
clothes I wore. Mom would tell me the patches on my
knees were cause I played on them all day, but the
other kids clothes didn't have patches. They would
laugh and point and sing, "peter patches, peter
patches". I would just ignore them but I really wished
I didn't have to wear them. Tomorrow was going to be
different though, we had just moved to another place
last night. My dad liked to move at night, he said it
wasn't so hot as trying to move in the day. All I know
is that every time we had to move, it meant a new school
and new friends and maybe this time it would be different.
Maybe this time I would find some friends that wouldn't
tease me. I started thinking we lived close enough to the
school that I could probably walk so no one would have to
see our car. And if I could help around the new place,
maybe I could stall mom until Monday making me go to
school. Then by the time I was ready to go, I would
have gotten my new pair of pants. Then no one would
know and maybe they would like me.


Just then, dad hollered "You stupid idiot" at some guy
that had pulled his car in front of us. I guess the
guy didn't know that dad hadn't been to the circus
place yet. We were almost there. Boy would I be happy
when we got there. Dad turned at me and said, "what are
you smiling at?" I said nothing, then he gave me a
little smile back. I didn't know half the time if he
was serious or just kidding when he said that. Today
wasn't any different, but he actually smiled before we
got to the circus place....

When we got there, Swifty and Carol were standing out
on the corner by the light pole. Dad told me they were
holding it up. It always made me laugh. Every time
Carol and Swifty would see me, they would ask my dad
who that handsome young man was that he had with
him. I knew they knew my name by now though. Dad asked
the ladies if the ringmaster was there and they said
yes. Good I thought, I remember once he wasn't, and
boy was my dad mad. We drove all over town looking for
him and I missed school that day. Hmm maybe it wasn't
such a bad thing after all.

The door to the circus place was old and screechy.
There was garbage lying all around on the ground in
front and on the sides. There was a lady that had a
little tent with a shopping cart on the one side. One
time I wanted to go see her tent but dad wouldn't let
me, said she was crazy. She didn't seem crazy to me
though she seemed nice. The other side is where Swifty
and Carol would park and talk to their man friends.
They were always talking to someone different, and
they never made fun of them. I was thinking I wished I
had that many friends. When we went inside, the hall
was empty all the way down to the big stairwell.
Usually there were three or four people sitting on the
ground talking to each other, but not today. The
ringmaster was up stairs, and that's where we would be
going. I kicked a couple of cans that were lying on the floor,
and dad hollered at me to stop. We got to the top of the
stairs and there he was. Sitting behind his desk, he always
smiled when he saw me with my dad. He was an older man,
dark skinned, and whenever he smiled, I could see his two gold
front teeth. He turned to his little fridge and got me a soda.
Then he grabbed a bag of chips and said "cartoons are on,
you can go sit on the couch and watch them." I took my
stuff and went and sat down. He asked my dad how many,
and my dad said four. The man handed my dad four colored
balloons, and a black bag. Dad walked to the back room
and I knew I would be watching cartoons for a while.
I didn't mind though, I had everything I needed right here.
When dad came out, he was smiling like always. He gave
the bag back to the ringmaster and said thanks. We
went down the stairs and got in the car and left. I smiled
cause I had gotten breakfast and I knew I wasn't going
to get yelled at for at least a couple of hours.

Life was good.

[tecoyah]

Though a long read, I found it well written and fully entertaining.
I do wonder at the Forced cutoff of sentance structure.....as if attempting to fit a story into a poetic mold. It may be a style I am unfamiliar with, but it did make the reading less enjoyable for me.

[amonkie]

Originally Posted by vonstalhein

When i meant getting lost track of though i just meant if too many people post poems AND replies in this thread. I think the PM or Link methods are best. A compilation of any links posted to poetry threads could maybe go at the top?

Another thought - for the written selection you are offering critique on ... quote the writer at the beginning of your post so we know which work it is for - then make your comments below ...

[J.R.V.A.]

Thank you...I am glad you enjoyed it, and I am alos glad you told me about what was wrong with it alos. This is a S.S. I wrote a while ago when I first started writing. I am wondering if I should go back and rewrite it, using better grammer and sentance endings, or leave it and use it as an example as I write more, maybe to compare...anyway, thanks agin for the comments

Originally Posted by tecoyah

Though a long read, I found it well written and fully entertaining.
I do wonder at the Forced cutoff of sentance structure.....as if attempting to fit a story into a poetic mold. It may be a style I am unfamiliar with, but it did make the reading less enjoyable for me.

[vonstalhein]

J.R, i agree with Tecoyah, i think in standard prose it'd read much better. Also, as the piece is mainly descriptive, i would engage the reader with a few more metaphors or other devices; as it is it feels a little too much like an anecdote than a serious piece.

[tecoyah]

OK....this was my first attempt at erotica.....please rip it apart:

Scented with a fruit exotic, she plays delicately with strands of hair, dark and long, still damp from natures pouring wetness. This subtle gesture, seemingly innocent belies an invitation I well know, and imagine frequently in times of quiet pleasure my mind allows. My gaze seems drawn to the shades of cream at her neckline, the delicate bones under muscles I will soon touch with eager lips. Breath forming the small goosebumps of her body reacting, anticipating.
Tonight will set my path in the stone carvings of descision.Tonight will be what takes her heart away from a troubled and painful past. Tonight will show her what the Gods intended love to be. She has little idea what my intentions are, and so tenderness, and care are at the forefront of my mind.....I will do no harm. My mantra of late.
Eyes lowered to break a spell of my making, she places the fine web of hair in her mouth, she is nervous, and so I sit. Again meeting eyes that place a strain on my heart, the beauty of which destroy emotion in favor of things more feral. I speak her name....soft as a cat’s content purr. Her vision sharpens as attention becomes mine, whispers of things to come dancing behind the banked passion in her eyes. If only she knew what I could do to her....for her, she would have no fear. Only desperate need for this gift I have waited to bestow.
On past nights, I have been quite tame, and reserved in these arts. Testing, hoping to see the readiness, to taste the flavor of desire in her sweat. She was not ready until now; I was not prepared to risk this one chance to be happy.
Opening my hand reveals the deep red of a single rose petal. Placed on fingertip, it brushes the downy hairs at necks nape, causing them to stand on end. Release of breath from her lips directs mine to within static distance of meeting the full red luster of moistened flesh. But the tease at this point is needed, She feels the nearness of my tongue to her lower lip, knows the warmth of exhaled lust.
Petal floating along the lines of her throat, my fingertips feel for the pulse of her passion, never actually touching the skin, but moving the hairs above. Flesh tightens as an electric sensation hardens hidden nipples forcing them into the fabric of her half opened blouse. Control becomes my focus now....as my touch becomes more firm, gently caressing the milk of her neck. Her breathing yet to quicken, I take my time in the exploration of her mouth with my tongues tip, slightly making contact with wet lips, and inhaling the sweet scent of rain soaked hair.

[ngdawg]

Now that I have taken that cold shower and filled my head with Marx Brothers quotes....
It seemed as if you started off with a multitude of metaphors, then, either because they weren't necessary or you realized their frequency, they became less used- a good thing.
Also, something to keep in mind, although the flow really wasn't bad(no pun intended). One of my earliest learnings in the art of writing was the wave of sentences' syllabic structure, ie: 3,10, 17, 17, 10, 3. Too many long sentences together loses the reader, too many short ones and it sounds like a list. That too, seemed like you had realized that and corrected as you went. Although it could also be that once you began writing, you centered on it enough to forego conscious efforts and let the natural feeling for it take over. Many times we try so hard to be creative, we lose the inherent naturalness of we want to convey. That, by creation's end, was communicated quite well.


what's this part? oh, this? this is the sanity clause. eh, you canna no fool me, there's a no such thing as a sanity clause

[tecoyah]

Great points Dawg.....I will do a rewrite with these tips in mind, Many thanx.

[shesus]

Tec, I think that erotica is one of the toughest things to write. I have been trying to dabble in it myself. I also have been reading Anais Nin for a couple of years to try to mimic her style.
NG, made some good comments. While metaphors are important, you don't want to over use them. Another thing that I have found is that creating a strong visual is important.
This paragraph:

Originally Posted by tecoyah

Scented with a fruit exotic, she plays delicately with strands of hair, dark and long, still damp from natures pouring wetness. This subtle gesture, seemingly innocent belies an invitation I well know, and imagine frequently in times of quiet pleasure my mind allows. My gaze seems drawn to the shades of cream at her neckline, the delicate bones under muscles I will soon touch with eager lips. Breath forming the small goosebumps of her body reacting, anticipating.

is a good beginning. The first sentence could be ...still damp from the summer storm. Since you used such a strong phrase at the beginning. I like the sentence about the neckline however, the part about the bones and muscles seems a little harsh for erotica imo, I think that you need soften it a bit. The skin under a delicate sheer top that I will soon touch with my eager lips. Or something along those lines.

Now, the last sentence discussing the touch and kiss exploration is wonderful! Very good.

I'm sorry if I sounded harsh with my comments. You are farther than I am in my exploration with erotica writing. I will look forward to your next draft.

[tecoyah]

Many thanx Shesus.....this is why I posted this here. And getting critique from...well...a target audience is fantastic.

Tec decides to imagine these...targets, for the rewrite

I'd just like to pipe in here and say this is a great idea.

As much as I like the way that in other areas of the TFP, only positive comments are welcome, I really think there is space for a more robust, and dare I say it, honest area for criticism. I'd like to see a whole section (rather than just a thread) dedicated to this sort of thing.

Respect to tecoyah for trying this out

[vonstalhein]

I agree with Tom, (sorry to redirect the focus again!) a small section where, for example, to post one of your own works, you must first critique 3 other works would be great!

[Poppinjay]

Originally Posted by J.R.V.A.

I am wondering if I should go back and rewrite it, using better grammer and sentance endings, or leave it and use it as an example as I write more, maybe to compare...anyway, thanks agin for the comments

I think you should. The story was compelling enough to make me continue, but needs some improvements on structure. The paragraph where you write about your dad being cut off could use re-structuring around the quote, like, "Idiot", cursed my father as a car cut us off.

I liked the narrative. That's why I think you should develop it into something more, something stronger.

[J.R.V.A.]

Thanks for reading,your comments, and I will.

[AlmoundJoy18]

Feel free to tear this one up. This is the first real thing I have posted in here. It is short and sweet or maybe short and a little sour, but you can be the judge of that.

Grievances Relieved

The sun is setting
The moon will rise
The future is of no surprise

I am living
And I shall die
Silence comes to those who cry

[tecoyah]

Almost seems a chunk of lyrics,but I would suggest anything so short have distinct meaning in the text....a message that is unavoidable.

I think I understood the underlying feeling of the poem but, I cant be sure.

[AlmoundJoy18]

Funny you mention lyrics... thats generally what I stick to. Every now and then somethin like this comes along out of my crazy head and it just seems like it would be an injustice to give it good music for competition or bad music to make it look bad. It just seems like an injustice to change it. However, I have thought some about people not seeing what I saw when I wrote it, but I consider that to be the beauty of one's own interpetation or dismissal or whatever of the piece. Thank you for your comments and thank you for taking the time to read it and comment about it. I always appreciate someone else's views.

[Lilly]

Remember Me


You imagine me riding across thin rows of fields
that run through woods along the tree lines
where the bullfrogs sing among the cypress trees
in the cool dimness of the cloudy afternoon.


A strand of lightening reaches to the treetops
where the wind whips the leaves like ivory lace
against the hyacinthine blue of the rain clouds
And the soft rain follows with its silver shadow
streaking across these barren bedroom walls.


You can hear the distant tree toads
call to each other from the China trees
while listening to a mockingbird sing
from its nesting place in the cedars.


And in the rain sweet jasmine air
you can smell drifts of fragrance
from the honeysuckle vines that
grow beneath my bedroom window.


The rain lasts only for an hour
but each time you close your eyes
a flood of remembrance will bring
you home to me.

[tecoyah]

well...I seriously tried to be critical of this piece.....but, I cant.....damn good.

[cellophanedeity]

This is a beautiful piece Lilly.

The only alteration I would make would be removal the word "the" from some of the lines. With poetry, you tend to want each word to have a distinct place, and the word "the" isn't really useful in some of the lines. I think if you were to remove the extra "the"s then this poem would be absolutely perfect.

For instance:

You imagine me riding across thin rows of fields
that run through woods along the tree lines
where the bullfrogs sing among the cypress trees
in the cool dimness of the cloudy afternoon.


A strand of lightening reaches to the treetops
where the wind whips the leaves like ivory lace
against the hyacinthine blue of the rain clouds
And the soft rain follows with its silver shadow
streaking across these barren bedroom walls.

I think this would sound stronger as:

You imagine me riding across thin rows of fields
that run through woods along tree lines
where bullfrogs sing among cypress trees
in the cool dimness of the cloudy afternoon.

A strand of lightening reaches to the treetops
where wind whips leaves like ivory lace
against the hyacinthine blue of rain clouds
And the soft rain follows with its silver shadow
streaking across these barren bedroom walls.

The only tricky bit of this is deciding which "the"s are useful and which are not.

Your imagery is beautiful, and the poem (I hate to say this, I hated it when teachers said it, but it's true) sort of gives me shivers. This may very well be the most beautiful poem I've ever read.

Please please please post more of your work. I'm amazed.

[shakran]

Originally Posted by J.R.V.A.

Thanks for reading,your comments, and I will.

She didn't seem crazy to me
though she seemed nice. The other side is where Swifty
and Carol would park and talk to their man friends.

This was the only thing that really stuck out as being out of place to me. You need punctuation between "me" and "though" to indicate a pause.


I didn't have a problem with the way you wrote it - especially since kids don't think in full-on prose like adults do. It sounded to me like a little kid was telling the story, which I believe you were aiming at. In fact if you were going for strong literary prose you'd have written "On the other side Swifty and Carol would park and talk. . . ," but instead you chose "The other side is where Swifty and Carol would park. . .
" which, to me, sounds much more like what a little kid would say.

[J.R.V.A.]

Yes, I get your meaning..YEA!!!

[Guinevere]

Clinging to your flesh is the lingering scent of our love.
It hangs on you like the salt from your swims in the sea.
When you brush past me on your way out my door
I smile, knowing I go with you.

As you lay in your bed away from me
And savor my sweet and natural perfume
You breathe me in with deep, deliberate sighs,
Wishing the scent on your hands would bring me to you.

In the morning you head to the sea and wash me away.
But when the sun sets on your precious surf,
You find your way back to my door
Where I lay refreshed and ready once more.

[Strange Famous]

yo... this is a poem I wrote for a girl I know:

The sky was red last night
shepherds delight
thats what they say
I carefully studied
the rings you wear
One on each finger
I like the one with the
Celtic sign
And the green cut glass
I liked the green thread
You braided into your hair
But they made you take it out
It didnt fit in
With the regulations
Of the school board
So you wore a short skirt instead

The sky was red this morning
Shepherd's warning
Thats what they say
Thats what he said
I'm not of the world
But you are a part of the world
entrenched in time and place
You exist right here
On this patch of sun burnt grass
The dog running circles around you
As you stare at the blue sky
At an ugly little white cloud
That looks like an old man
That you hate
I see confusion in your eyes
Something is coming
You cant quite make it out
Shrug your shoulders
Walk back inside, shoulders slightly slumped
Reach through the cans of beer
That stack the fridge
And pick out a Pepsi instead

I remember
I remember
Memory is important
To me, because it is where
I concentrate my energy

You used to play hop scotch in the street
Like a little dinosaur
Like a hungry, angry raptor
Catious and vicious
Who's beauty can turn into great velocity
At the slightest spark

I think you're a hexagon
You have six sides and they all face each
Other, A different look for
Each day of the week, and
on Sunday you can be yourself.

I think you're like an alarm clock
I think you're like a TV show
Where the people all know each other
And tell the same jokes every week
It's safe there, and you always know
Who gets the girl
And the down on his luck guy
Always has his adventures
And always gets some other girl
To lose, how careless
She will end up with the good looking neighbour
The dramatic tension shifts
You might get one more series
Then she'll turn up in some other show

Like an angry dinosaur
One day she'll be a single mum
And find some Argentine dream boat
A life of happy endings
And new beginnings
Somehow it always works out
A sense of cosmic justice
You would call it karma
I call it gravity

The sky was green last night
From where I stood
6 foot underwater
I thought you were a fish
With skin that was gold and yellow and grey
Pink and sky blue and white
You swam 15 circles around me
I had a strange epiphany

You never wore green braids in your hair
You just had green eyes
You never gave me those transfer tattoo's
That freaked my mother out that time
Cos you always lived miles away
(so where the hell did I get them?)
You never wore that celtic ring
I never bought it for you
From the new age traveller
on Felixstowe market
You never taught me Hebrew words
You were raised in another church
So who taught me Hebrew words?
I know it wasnt them
Man, I KNOW it wasnt them

I must have been thinking about someone else
Someone I've never known
Someone who has never been
Here.

I'll grab a flight right now
And bring you a mirror
I'll leave it by your front door
And ring the bell and run


I'll sail the sea
In a pea green boat
With an owl
And a Golden retriever
If it sinks
We'll swim

I'm 6 foot underwater
Looking up at you
Your standing on a mountain
Frowing at the middle distance
Your eyes
Match the sky
From down here

And when you come down the mountain
You'll play a populat show tune
On my skeleton
They left it lying on the beach
Use the Femur and the knee cap
As the instruments
Bang out the tune on my ribs
If you hit the high notes too hard
And my skull falls off
Dont worry about it
It makes such pretty music
We all need pretty music
We all love pretty music

Water melon, cookie dough, crocodile, hammer
Cookie dough, crocodile, hammer, Madison
crocodile, hammer, Maddison
hammer, Madison
Madison
Madison
Madison
Madison

[Chimera]

Though I can see the effort that went into this piece, and note the intimate knowledge of the "Girl" placed into the wording, I cannot see the benefit of such a long piece if the intent is to court. As a general rule an Epic piece of Poetry should tell a story, rather than pick apart a single subject.

If this work was Half as long, it might make a statement, and capture the readers interest. I recommend a re-write to shorten the length.....there is well written material hidden in the fluff.

[Jetée]

Simple is as simple does, so here is my original piece:

I believe it faded away
into a serene memory
of past, always present
in the mind of yore.

[tecoyah]

Originally Posted by Jetstream

Simple is as simple does, so here is my original piece:

I believe it faded away
into a serene memory
of past, always present
in the mind of yore.

Sometimes, a very short poem makes the mind push for meaning....good example of this.

Well Done...wouldnt change a thing