Bleet

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it seems this little girl
with ribbons in her hair and shrapnel in her face
are all part of God's plan
it's good to know that in the billions
of galaxies, strewn about the universe
He's rooting for one little country
on one little planet
to drop bombs on breakfast tables
"Is", "is." "is" — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don't know what anything "is"; I only know how it seems to me at this moment. -Robert Anton Wilson




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Very strong poem. But there was one line:

with ribbons in her hair and shrapnel in her face
are all part of God's plan

The second line in this quote doesn't seem to flow with the first one. What is "are part of God's plan?" The little girl? If so, then the proper verb would be "is." I think this is just a grammatical mistake on your part.

Also, break this line:
with ribbons in her hair and shrapnel in her face

to
with ribbons in her hair
and shrapnel in her face
It goes with the more "punchy" tone of your poem.

The line breaks on this also seemed awkward:
it's good to know that in the billions
of galaxies, strewn about the universe
He's rooting for one little country


I suggest this:
it's good to know
that in the billions of galaxies,
strewn about the universe
He's rooting for one little country

It may be more lines, but it keeps the same rhythm you had established throughout your poem already. Other than that, great job! I really like the ending too. It's sudden and unexpected. Nice job!
"I will have to tell you, you have bewitched me body and soul..." --Mr. Darcy, P & P, 2005 movie
"You pierce my soul." --Cpt. Frederick Wentworth

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I agree with WL. On pretty much everything.




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Gender Female
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Great poem. Just needs the simple fixes that WL suggests and it'd be awesome. :D
@(^_^)@
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Wow. This is so amazingly apt and... good. I love the stark image and the deadpan tone of this.

to drop bombs on breakfast tables

I'd change 'to drop' to 'that drops' because rooting for a country makes more sense than rooting for an action. I think.

Your title confuses me. 'Bleet'?

Other than that, I love it. We need more poems like this. Excellent work.
Siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia,
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte.

-From 'Del amor imprevisto', Federico Garcia Lorca




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Bleet is the sound a sheep makes.
"Is", "is." "is" — the idiocy of the word haunts me. If it were abolished, human thought might begin to make sense. I don't know what anything "is"; I only know how it seems to me at this moment. -Robert Anton Wilson




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Gender Female
Points 1090
Reviews 170
Heh. Now I get it. Thanks.
Siempre, siempre: jardin de mi agonia,
tu cuerpo fugitivo para siempre,
la sangre de tus venas en mi boca,
tu boca ya sin luz para mi muerte.

-From 'Del amor imprevisto', Federico Garcia Lorca




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Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 688
I didn't want to comment on this, because I would have nothing to say. I frankly and simply enjoyed this.
Carpe Diem.




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Gender Male
Points 890
Reviews 114
Yes, I think WL covered everything.

Ribbons in her hair and shrapnel in her face... powerful.

Well done, bent!
David Guinness



I have my books and my poetry to protect me.
— Paul Simon