Crossroads

by Twit
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Hm, arite. I can't say the first verse is very flattering, and who's Harold with the purple crayon?

Comments & reviews · 5
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Leja
Review
Leja wrote a review · Thu Jun 14, 2007 8:47 pm

I didn't like how "We come/learn" was repeated in the first few stanzas, then just stopped. It seemed smushed together.

I liked the lines: "The wind divines where I stand, draws me a refuge like Harold’s purple crayon."

I think the last three lines worked well because of word choice and line spacing.

This seems very much like a 'look back and evaluate life' type of poem. I don't like this type of poem much, but that's just personal preference.

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Emerson
Review
Emerson wrote a review · Thu Jun 14, 2007 6:27 pm

I really enjoyed this. (As always.)

My favorite part was this:

God is betting I’m going to fall,

fall past the pines and their seven kinds of needles,
past the yawning canyons, the charcoal briquettes
seized by flame.


But this doesn't make for much of a critique, does it? And I disagree, I think the last stanza doesn't need a pause.

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Cade
Review
Cade wrote a review · Wed Jun 13, 2007 7:11 pm

*seconds Mesh's last comment*

Shadow - Harold is a little boy who draws stuff with his crayon. He sort of creates little worlds for himself. Fantastic children's book. One of my favorites.

The Harold's crayon thing did seem a little out of place, though. While it's a neat reference, I just...feel like it doesn't belong. I also don't know exactly how obscure it is. I adore Harold, so I just sort of assume everyone else does, but what do I know?

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Meshugenah
Review

I love the first verse.

My only real problem is with the use of "spleen." Maybe you intend for it to be as choppy as it reads, but it's more distracting than anything else. On the other hand, it has the absurdest quality that I really like.

Also, last stanza, I think you need a bit more of a pause between those two lines.

Bradshaw, dear? I hate you and your talent. It makes me sick. And if you ever stop writing, I'll hunt you down with a dull spoon.



Poetry is my cheap means of transportation. By the end of the poem the reader should be in a different place from where he started. I would like him to be slightly disoriented at the end, like I drove him outside of town at night and dropped him off in a cornfield.
— Billy Collins