1994.

Maybe you could close with a repeated line or something.


I'm really bad at describing poetry techniques, but I don't get enough "feel" with that last line. There was a trace of atmosphere that I get that at that time you were innocent, but it's just...leaving me with the idea that I need more.


I'm sorry I can't think of something right now and it's bugging me, but I'll try to think of how to explain it. o_O

Thank you, Zelalem. I was seven in '94, I believe. : )

Bazoo: Thanks! Could you elaborate more on your thoughts for the last line? It does seem a bit abrupt to me, but I really wouldn't know how to go about fixing it. I'd be open to suggestions, though ... Well, thanks again.

I liked it, really had a unique message of childhood innonence.


Something just really bugged me about that last line, if you know what I mean. I understand you were trying to go out with a dramatic pause, but the line is just an odd fit with the rest of the poem. It left me wanting more.

I know that's kind of a vague critique, but "the plastic sword" ending didn't seem right. It was great, though.

Shriek wrote:1994.
Written April 13, 2006
We were seven years old
and made mud pies
instead of accusations,
drew pictures
instead of sides,
gave each other dandelions
instead of dirty stares;
And you pushed me on the swings
instead of over the edge –
and out of your life.

TBR: Hey, thanks. I was actually mulling over the capitalization of those words a bit prior to your comment. They didn't seem right and I didn't know why. I'll experiment with that a bit more. Thanks again!

KayKay: Thanks for the compliments ... though, I wouldn't necessarily classify myself as a poet (or a good one, at that!) yet.

Stev: Oh gosh, thanks for catching that. I mixed up the "heel/heal" thing on one of my other stories before. You'd think I'd have learned! Thanks a lot for reading -- I really appreciate your thoughts.

*claps* Yay! You're writing poetry!
This was very well done! I echo all the comments above, just had one small thing I noticed

high healed shoes

I liked the poem and how it was written. I too like your style. The second to last stanza was my favorite and i really felt the emotion in it. I agree, you are a good poet.

"when I played The mommy
and you played The daddy"

It seems to me The shouldn't be capitalized but Mommy and Daddy should, but I'm not sure on this... or it could be The Mommy.

I did like this... I perfer your dark stories though. Yours are like the only ones I read anyway
I liked this poem though

I think we have a new poet in the house!

Xanthan gum: Wow, thank you. That is quite a compliment coming from you.
And also, thank you Niamh and Julri. I appreciate the time and comments on both of your parts. : )

This was really good. I liked the whole thing, especially how it developed. Very nice!

Peace!

I really did love this. There's nothing that needs to be fixed. I don't know what more praise I can offer--I just think it's brilliant.

Wow. When I read the beginning, I actually winced. "Another beginner poet...I'll probably have to give them the THIS ISN'T A POEM talk," I thought. Thankfully, you proved me wrong. I loved this - the last two stanzas were more powerful than the first two, which just supplied images of crazy childhood. But the latter half of the poem was more moving - more profound

favorite parts:

And you pushed me on the swings
instead of over the edge –
and out of your life.

how to play pretend and how to
kill someone with a plastic sword.