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137,507 Literary Works • 672,040 Reviews
wow nice job very detailed
Thanks!
So hey there Audy. It's just lizzy dropping by real quick, so without a further ado, let the reviewing begin.
1. Wait so who died again? At one point it sounds like the sister and at another the mother. I mean the emotions are great and saddening and powerful either way, I just caught hung up on trying to figure out who this was about.
One quick note, poetry isn't my best thing when it comes to reviewing and you are obviously very good at writing. My apologies in advance if I mess up but I'm used to reviewing poorly written stuff.
It took me a couple reads through and dropping off at your poem a couple of times, before I collected my thoughts enough for a complete comment. There are still some things that I'm not sure on but they don't really effect the rest of these notes.
*tosses random, somewhat important questions into a spoiler*
Spoiler
2. Um Siberian griefs? Probably should have just researched to see if it was an expression or saying or something, but didn't think of it in time.
I don't really side with any story or poem on the ideas of love, like, dislike, and hate, often. I'm making an exception to that by saying I really liked your poem because of the contrast of the parts. The first part starts out almost in a bright, happy-ish emotion, which really draws the reader in because it doesn't open sad. At least that's how my opinion of things usually go. Like if you open with something depressing, I don't want to read that.
And then it just gradually slopes down to something sad and then to sadder. I guess what I liked was the progression of how it went full circle, going back to the handles thing.
I still don't quite understand the handle thing because it just reflects on broken mugs to me. Like old, broken mugs of someone who couldn't afford new ones. I don't know if that reference was meant to be or if the handle-less mug was just a symbol. As if the narrator childhood was missing certain elements because certain people were missing.
I'm guessing that none of my interpretations of the words are any percent true, so I'll just drop those for now. I found the formatting intriguing. I'm not very good commenting on flow, considering I often mess it up myself. But as I read this through, there are few spots that lag to me or stretch out the thought to far.
If any of this at all makes sense, please tell me. It'll mean I'm sort of on the right track.
Well that's about all I have for now. Hopefully even if this didn't help you in some way, at least it made you happy or something. I really don't know where I was going with that.
Have a nice day.
Happy Halloween!
Lizzy
The Queen of the Book Clubs
This review was written to Sunny Afternoon.
Hey Lizzy, thanks for the review! I wasn't expecting one, so I very well was happy/surprised to see it <3
To answer your questions:
Spoiler
"Lost in funerals" is meant as the brother speaking to his sister and describing her state of mind. She is LOST in her experience of funerals. I would hope to allude to the mother's death "it was like your eye's and mom's" // "in my mind there is just the way we were raised"
-- but it's never stated, you can substitute [any] death, the importance is not so much who, as it is the experience of funerals. I may need to fix that spot to clarify that potential ambiguity though c: So thanks for pointing it out.
Spoiler
On handles - I like your interpretation of the poem of the broken mugs and the childhood missing certain elements. In many ways, I think the narrator feels this: "city kids with no hope of making ripples".
I'll introduce a new interpretation if you like. Maybe not the picture of an old, broken mug-- but a mug that was made from inception to be handle~less. A mug like this that was given to the sister as a gift from her brother in part one, and a symbol for the memories of the times when they were close. Mugs like these. If you perceive the mugs to be handleless from the start, then the second part is the brother comforting his sister: [i]I know you are succumbing to Siberian griefs (Siberia=Vast, brutal, cold, foreign) but what has kept me from succumbing to them too are the memories of us and how we were raised" and circle back to the lines: raised as though cradled in palms, raised as though crafted painstakingly from an artisan out of love and sacrifice. So it could be two things: raised with very little and missing a lot of elements, or raised with the utmost love and attention and cradled in their mother's palms. I tried to leave groundwork for both.
Your reviews are great and you were definitely spot on. Thank you!
~ Auds
Yay, a nice reply to a review.
Also thanks for the clarification.
This is the first poem i've reviewed since being on this page & i have to say, it was really good. It really gets the reader thinking and involved in the lines. Keep it up! You got this!
~Phantom
Thank you for the kind words!
Aah, how are you liking the site so far?
No problem! :3
so far it's pretty good ^-^ kinda hard to use since i'm more used to tumblr.
I envy you for being so good at poetry and I also love it because you're so good at poetry.
As are you, so this means the world <3
teach me how to poetry ;-; because like woah xD
xD I read lots, it opens to you loads of possibilities that you can do and more importantly, it teaches you what you like and what you don't like.
I also review lots, and review in depth. It has forced me to look at HOW a poem is doing what it is doing. If something makes me feel surprised, I want to know how it did that. If something makes me cry, hoooow is it doing that? Reviewing helps too, because if you don't know, you can always ask the author. People on yws are super friendly & open.
And lastly, write lots. You already do, I know, so don't ever stop!
thanks
Kind of in a slump with my poetry. I want to write but everything I write is just blah and I publish it and people tell me it's blah. It's just a whole bunch of blah. xD
That happens to me all the time too (on my wall I posted the link to my early drafts as a response to Kaos, just to say this started as blahhhhhhh too. ) But push through it, don't let anyone tell you you can't when what I've read of your stuff is so full of passion, even if its blah right this moment, doesn't mean you can't shape it up into something good later. <3
Thanks Audy <3
I went to sleep reading this with a sardonic smile on my face, and I woke up the same, and now I'm eating rice the same. The analyses to be had here are both delicious and potentially overwhelming at times, but as a serial re-reader, the
necessity and inherent human blessingcurse to treasure the momentous things--even the tragic
Spoiler
is staggering and beautiful and God, I love it when you do this.
There are places where the syntax, phrasing, and construction leaves the reader tripping--sometimes even among line breaks or soft stops--but I'm almost remiss to call this an entirely negative circumstance because it demands time of the reader to circle back and possibly pick up a coin they missed on their way through the first time. All the same, flow is precious to me, and I do what I can to save her.
Part one is so warm and wholesome and inviting, and because of the lesson of the final stanza where the mother is handle-less mugging her sorrows, I admittedly didn't expect the brutality of the second part, even while reading. And good grief, it starts with funerals! That's either very good on your part or very telling on my end that I'm losing my reader's paranoia.
But part two is rather riddled with the ill-oiled machinery, but again in another face it almost works with the memory loss (which hurt me thanks).
Finally, because I know you, I couldn't help but hear bits of the dialogue, even in-mind, clipping between Spanish and English.
Have a prize because emotions.
Ty
:3 this amuses me, ty ty ty! I'll have another go of editing for the flows and things, though I'm curious you find spanish clips, how interesting
Also, that album <3
I don't think that I can handle this right now. Just sayin'. d:
I'd offer a hand ~ <3 :^D
Nice poem, by the way. I like it.
Thank you!