Benway

Re: joshuapaul Not that I intended or am aware of. I'll sometimes employ verse, but rarely do I attempt to or succeed in holding to a strict meter.

Good form here. When attempting to stick to a rhyme scheme, I often run into points where some of my rhyming words feel a bit forced, but I can't find ...

As simple and delicate in effect as that still butterfly. I appreciate a focused, minimalistic piece like this one. The simplicity or the final question, and the simplicity of the ...

Wilde was an aesthete, a sort of strict materialist the likes of which believe in the importance of the material and the created over the creator. From a lit. theory ...

Re: NerdBurga I've heard it a thousand times if I've heard it once--to scale down the difficulty of some of the words I choose. I'm glad you mentioned this, an ...

From egoistic soil grew the world swaddled as a boy and as a girl, the sexless sexed miasma of a style foretold by junk-sick dandies and Prohibition guile. A pornographic ...

I've never gone easy on you when it comes to critique, but I find myself left with very little critical to say after reading this. It is an intimate and ...

Pretty minimalistic. I more or less follow what you're getting at, I think. And in saying that, I realize that I really don't know what you're getting at. Three. What ...

This pretty much sparkles. I read it, and I see, I feel...a puffy white cloud back-lit by the moon on a cool Spring night. I find myself not too quick ...

Re: Lumi The abrupt stop of "black and gone" is intentional. The coffee (is black) and gone. The poem's narrator has nothing left to toast his "far-way love" with except ...

Who are you that I should call you "home," the blank nomenclature of where we put to bed all the things not fit for the forum of impermanent minds; who, ...

Formally speaking, I think that this is better categorized as a Dramatic, narrative piece than a lyrical one. But all the same, I'm lead to agree with the other reviews ...

I really enjoyed this poem. In my college days, I read a lot of poetry by Black artists who were attempting to convey the struggles of consciousness experienced by Black ...

Little paper cups sitting all about the room and not a drop to drink in them but the retreating moon, and so, in dregs of coffee black and gone, I ...

This is a beautifully written poem, honest, exposed, without a lot of the wordy tangle that can so easily overtake a work that is--as I'm thinking this is--a self-confession. In ...