From Scholar to Master Level 2005-2006
Poems and Reviews
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11/18/2005
Welcome aboard!
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You must have a quill to post a poem. You may only post 3 poems per day. Each "day" starts at midnight Eastern Standard Time...
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Once you are signed on to the website, click on the "New Release" tab. A list of poem titles will appear. Choose a poem and click on it. The poem will come up. Read the poem and scroll down past the poet´s comments. There will be a link at the bottom of the page "review this poem". Click on the link and a screen
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These were the basic rules for the workshop. Besides fellow poets there were independent judges and judge advocates who determined which level the poet had reached. I began with Scholar Level 11/18/2005 and achieved the level of Master one year later, the next level and the highest achievement being Poet Laureate to which I never aspired.  At Master Level I had received 1889 Poets Stars and 772 Reviewer Gavels, both designating Master Level. Then the site was changed in a way that only reviews were awarded with points but my Master Level was preserved. The aim of the new site was Everyday Poetry which was fine with me as I do not think there is any difference between amateur and professional poets if the poems are new. The site has now been taken over by LULU Poetry.com, and I am no longer a member.

The first poem 11/18/2005 (Poet rank: Scholar Level, Reviewer rank: Skilled Level) was
Trout

A friend of the family
invested in trout ponds.
In autumn
we hear Schubert in this vein.
He died at thirtyone,
they didn´t quite see his genius then.
Who owned the piano
the Forelle Quintet was first played on?
Nobody owns the music.
Everybody owns it now.
Fish are jumping
as in summertime.

Review:
Thought provoking..."owning" is such a western thing. I grieve that the native Americans that were slaughtered and way of life lost because they understood better what could ne "owned". Interesting analogies...wonderful thought...good flow and free verse. I think you need a space or dash in the fifth line at "thirty one"? Good read. God bless Bob*****(5 stars)

I rated this review:
Very helpful/////(5 gavels)

Next poem 11/30/2005

Snowed In
Snow makes it difficult
for the local messengers
to reach out
to their readers.

Roads are blocked,
and the more private they are,
the more
remore they seem.

But when the mail gets through,
the more encouraging it is
for us to get the message
of the necessary news.

Local and global news,
in isolation you receive a warmth
from papers printed in the night,
however distant, they get close to you.

Review:
I never thought of it like that. I never thought how important news is when feeling isolated. News brings hope to those in need of it. Well done. I like it when I get something new to think about*****(5 stars) Reviewer: moneyscaresher

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

12/03/2005 Poet rank: Proficient Level, Reviewer rank: Skilled Level

Community Study
For most people
a reading group
is a challenge
beyond the ordinary.

Exactly that
seems to be too much.
You study
without special education.

Why should you do that
when nobody
thought you should be a student?
What do you study then?

To be a voter, maybe politician,
or opinion leader.
Is your community
not more than what most people thought?

Review:
a good read, and to the point of the author´s feeling. it is in need of more color, over all a good job*****

12/03/2005 (same rank)
Port To The Future
At first a landing
just a place
from where you sailed
and homeport for a ship.
Then neighbour to a fortress
ever so often sacked in war
even the mail smack
"of Jan Hollander", the foreigner.
Waves come and go
some fit for sailing
some for holidays
stirred by trident:
Neptune rules,
centuries roll in waves.
It´s Future´s Port.

2 Reviews:
the main highlight of the poem is  subtle. more emphasis on the popet´s moral would have been better, themes are used well..'stirred by trident' creative thoughts presented.
deeply written.could present more color.overall a good job. The subject of poem does not click with me, but I am sure there are those it will.

12/03/2005 (Poet rank: Skilled Level, Reviewer rank: Talented Level))
The Little Light
In a small paper
there was a column
called "The Little Light".
I write this
in a little light
because the power has gone out.
Ships pass out there,
I see their lanterns,
and a red light leading them. In candle light
I hear the engine
far away.
I know that power will return.
Right now the ship
passes the red light.
It´s on its way.
The ship goes on.

Review:
this is why I think poetry is some kind of psychological therapy, you put your feelings in written and end up believing you are far better off than when you started, good poem, I loved the poem*****

12/03/2005 (the poems were received and printed by me on that day)
Buzzards
There is something quite raw
about a pair of buzzards
as they loose themselves from the forest,
and softly float out over the green.

Their land - that´s for sure.
And as they hover, gazing down
there is something grey and sinister about the land.

4 Reviews:
1. review:
Good poem: I could picture the scene clearly. I wouldn´t say things like 'there is something', especially at the beginning of the poem - it´s a waste of words. I love 'quite raw' though, it feels both refined and raw at the same time. 'Their land' jumps out at the beginning of the second stanza. 'Sinister' is a great word.*****
My rating: Very helpful/////.My Comment: Good that you noticed 'sinsiter' - they are birds of prey!
2. review:
Get the point of the poem and feel the feeling, job accomplished! I´m not able to get lost in it though...*****
My rating: Very Helpful/////. My comment: I don not always expect the reader to get lost; it is fine with me if you get interested in the words and the feeling.
3. review:
it was alright...it didn´t make me feel anything persay, but I did get a visual...i´m sure there are others whom it might have stirred something within, whom it might have meant something more to; but i´m a hard person to stir or move, which is why i don´t usually like to review things*****
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////. My comment: I know that I am visual with words, and the feeling is not very outspoken because the pictures ought to be enough, in my view.
4. review:
Mysterious. I like it. Paints a picture. I´m not sure of what though. What do the buzzards symbolize.
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////. My comment: The buzzards are not symbolic; there are buzzards where I live, and I have seen them like this. They are not a big as they are in Texas but they eat everything; I saw one in severe winter trying to eat frozen rice on a plate for my cats without being able to get it. Its larege wings were deeply pathetic to see this way. It was starving in the frozen land, and such a big bird must have a lot to eat!

12/03/2005 (same rank)
Carnival Of The Animals
Saint-Saens, the great piano lion
was a storyteller
in Walt Disney´s vein.
A long time
before it was in pictures
it was in music.
It still is,
and you can hear it on CD:
There is the lion
on its paws,
big, impressing
as it was at first.
Now, children, listen
the piano teacher says,
you hear it if you try.
See, the piano is the lion. Paws!

2 Reviews:
1. review:I liked the poem, it was very interesting but I think u could have put some more effort in this poem. good luck on ur next one*****
My rating of the review: Somewhat helpful. My comment: I am a little too pedagogic, I admit. But I wanted to tell about the piece by Saint-Saens which contains pictures in sound.
2. review:
it needs more imagination.like what did the piano sound like when the lion pålayed it.but other than that it would be a good poem for a childs book*****
My rating for the review: Very helpful/////
My comment: OK, I will think about a child´s book!

12/03/2005 (same rank)
Acrobats
This year it was possible
to take a swim in the ocean
as late as 10 October.
The luxury of the sun
was so encouraging
that I swam in the morning.
Then I noticed in the grass
dozens of small cobwebs
like flat tent roofs clsoe to the ground
shining with dew,
looking like trampolines
from my giant´s viewpoint.
Indian summer also brought us
many tiny flies as audience
attracted to the ground.
So there is reason
in this multiple-stage Barnum show.

Review:
Lost track of the concept of this poem. Creates a good picture of what is happening but then left me with a inquisitive look as to what the underlying meaning was*****
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
My comment: It is all right that you ask for a meaning. I just wanted to tell that I noticed these strange trampolines and they reminded me of Barnum circus. I agree that there is no explicit meaning, just an impression.

(these were the poem and review I received on the same day, the next poems is on another day)

12/08/2005
Requiem
The jungle is good
to those who know it
from experience
however bad it seemed at first.

As a bare field
is to a peasant
for the first time
he believes in soil.

And he wants to build
a monument to Man
with a few stones
of memory.

How to combine
the present with the past
that is the quest
of any time.

3 Reviews:
1. I liked each verse but had a hard time putting them together to find the meaning of the poem. The last verse was deep and makes you think about it, it was good*****
My rating: Very helpful/////
My comment: I like good criticism in a review. This is helpful.
2. It had good symbolism, and gets its point across well. Though it is still open to interpretation. I like it***
3.
After my divorce I thought a lot about where things went wrong and I couldn`t stop thinking about my inability to communicate. How I would just sit in a car and not say anything. Who would want to be with someone like that? Hopefully the woman I love now*****
My rating: Very helpful/////
My comment: It is very good to know that a poem like this has a meaning that can be of such value personally although it is written as a more cultural reflection. There are some extremely old human monuments in my vicinity, and when you are there, you sense the greatness of history.

Worksong
Listening to the jazz
coming from far away places
makes me see in arabesques
rising from the pipe I´m smoking
years without age.
Even my fingers remember
how hard the strings of a bass are
and how resinous the bow
the moothness of piano ivory
how elegant the buttons of a clarinet
deceiving anyone to think it´s light
displaying photogenic views.
Then suddenly the drumsticks
pierce the dreamy state
the boy was in
as yesterday walked in
and gave him access
to its world of work.

Review:
I really enjoyed reading this. You should add more to it, give it more depth. Have you ever tried using depth charges? What you di is pick a line that you don´t like as much, and try starting it a different way, you´d be surprised at how much better it will sound*****
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
My comment: Thanks for the advice. I cherish new ideas.

12/14/2005: Poet rank now Experienced Level, Reviewer rank: Talented Level
The judges and judge advocat poets have noticed this progress independently.

The Tolerated Poem
Down on the ground you see the toad.
It´s ugye if it´s not made by Picasso.
As it does not harm us, though,
we let it go on living there.

We too are moving on the ground;
for that it is all right, and we
may cultivate it with our industry and art.
A little garden is quite nice for sunlit days.
We´re reaching two yards higher towards the sky,
but when it rains we do not feel so tall.
Still worse it is when bombs are coming down.
Then there´s not much pride in out scratchy script.

I wonder whether toads scratch too,
when they are pushed around an feel downcast
- or do they draw a circle all around themselves
to catch attention to their wish that
some green may be left?

Review:
I liked the way that the words were woven together to form the final work. I think that a lot of thought and time was placed into writing this*****
My rating of the review:Very helpful/////
My comment: I couldn´t be more satisfied with the reading.

12/14/2005
What Does A Bell Tell?
It´s not what I will tell
that is the point but how,
an inclination to a shadow dance
in which the music´s hardly heard.

Maybe it comes from far away,
or from a window in a street I knew.
In there between the sounds and words
an after-image grows into a string of lights.

It´s neither day nor night
in that beginning of a thought,
developing into a nonsense chime
like jingle bells or other foolish sights.

2 Reviews:
1. this is a very cozy poem, it is charming and cute, the authour has potential, not a poem that you can feel but one you can visualize.
My rating of the review: Very helpful////
My comment: Jinglebells are visual. It is said to be foolish to see them but it is not. They are meant to evoke a vision.
2. I like the imagery you have set out in this poem. I try to comprehend the point but find myself lacking the intellect to discover the meaning****
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
My comment:
The poem is not intellectual. If you grasp the imagery, it´s fine. The poem does not just mean something, it plays on meanings.

12/12/2005
Still Life
A chestnut´s eye
mirrors the sky
from where it fell
in its protective shell.

Next to two plums
which still protect
the inner secret
of their life.

The golden mask
of Pharao
looks with its two eyes
at me from the cover of National Geographic.

Behind them my binoculars
stand in farsighted form
with human ingenuity:
an abstraction, scientific fruit.

2 Reviews:
1. It is an interesting comparison of eyes. I am not sure I like your poem, but it is well written. I can see you put a lot of thought into it****
My rating of the review: Provided considerable help////
2. Scientific fruit harvester: "Eyes they have but do not see, ears they have but do not hear. Sometimes I wonder. I look at, touch, smell, seek reaction, to all that I come across. You describe a personality like this. My eyes seek reaction from the inanimate all the time. I saw an extremely rare bird on my grape vines. With field glasses, it was only a dried leaf eating a red berry. So I enjoyed all of the poem and you see where it took me. Nicely done...*****
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
My comment:
A very poetic review.I just read a poem by Eugene McCarthy in which he described a heron before light as completely grey. Then when it had caught the fish late in the afternoon, both the heron and the swallowed fish were created by the golden sunlight. Yours review tells me something like that!

12/14/2005
The Castle Of My Dreams
Nothing compares
with the constancy
of wind and sea;
it´s the castle of my dreams.

Wind in the sails
makes my ship flow
endlessly on the waves
towards you.

Wherever you are
it´s you I aim for;
you´re the haven,
the place to be.

You´re everyone
everywhere;
my mind is captured
by your spell.

Review:
I really liked this poem, it got me rigth from the start, well done (only need 14 words to describe it, enjoyed the poem)*****
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
Comment: Thank you for not using superfluous words.

12/31/2005: Poet rank: Talented Level, Reviewer rank: Talented Level
Sentences
To go to school.
What are you working at?
What have you done?
What does it matter?
What is your livelihood?
Where are you going?
Is something the matter?
Do they have something on him?
Who says so?
To pass away.

In this there is a lifetime.
But which life?
From where is it seen?
How is the lighting?
Is it seen from above
og from below,
or from a point between 
the many different roles?
Which kind of room is it?
Which public space, town, city?

Does anything happen there?
Or is it always the same?

Those are the sentences
I wrote after watching a thriller
which was no longer about criminals
but of the police somewhere, nowhere.

What was the city´s name, was it maybe
POLIS, METROPOLIS,
the Mother City, Womb Town?

Is it the actors or the stage?
Is it a timeless place?

2 Reviews:
1. no contence, nothing but questions, lacks vision, and inspiration. Not related to the topic at hand.Most program hit on a lot of this questions and answer them throughout the show * (1 star)
My rating of the review:Not very helpful at all/////
My comment: Your review does not help me much but the reaction is understandable. The poem is broken in several pieces, and you then go to another sphere but if that does not appeal to you, the poem does not relate to the title. Sentences they are after all!
2. not your rhyming type of a poem but a unique introspective feel. I liked it better the second time I read it***
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
My comment: You have to read this poem over again because it has several parts on top of each other. Then you yourself create the meaning as I think you have done for yourself.

12/28/2005(same rank)
Fun
What´s the use of worrying,
and what´s the use of fun?
The answer is,
ofcourse, there´s none.
It recreates.
That´s how it works.
When fun is gone,
it is bad news.

3 Reviews:
1. I like this. It is sweet and very truthful. I thought it was also very creative. And the way you broke off the lines very unique. A good way to keep a memory clear****(4 stars)
My rating of the review: Very helpful/////
My comment: I can only thank you for understanding a poem which is not quite easily accepted by everyone.
2.This poem seems to contradict itself by saying there is 'none'. You may want to revisit it and change 'none' to 'some'. It does not flow too well and seems to end abruptly***(3 stars)
My rating of the review: Somewhat helpful/////
My comment: I think that fun recreates by not being useful. It is bad news if everything has to be useful. That´s not fun.
3. Yes, Now is not fun any more. I do agree with the descriptive of the author´s poet. This poem is good but i do not want to read the poem with the fun when the last line seem not really well-expressed regarding the title of the author´s poet***(3 stars)
My rating of the review: Somewhat helpful/////
My comment: I do not quite understand what you mean. But what I meant was that when there is no fun, we get the opposite: bad news. And that is, sorry to say it, the usual content of the newspapers and other media. Not just now but always!

04/08/2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Review Rank Professional Level 
Inspired

Where there is music
you´re in a sense lost

it lifts you to places
where no one has walked

points in directions
you did not expect

there´s a world opening
around the bend

and suddenly inside
it becomes you

Review: If you listen to music it so lvely feeling. You´re like floating in the clouds. Thank you for sharing this. neneng 5 stars
I rated this review: very helpful 5 Gavels: Thanks for the appreciation, especially of the rhythm in the poem which to me is also musical.

04/08/2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Review Rank Professional Level
Stone Fences
                                       Old house
                                       silent men
                         The white pages are palefaces
                          peering out from behind slits
                         at a long gone fort somewhere
                          on the lone prairie - forget it.
                       Even if they deep down nourished
                            a never revealed hope
                        though it is now blown away
                          but a bleak solitude is felt
                      and in it something tight-jawed:
                    THE TEETH-THE TEETH-THE TEETH
                 THE FENCE, they say, THE STONE FENCE

                        Thus letters speak and so on
                    and still are speaking all very good
                           the land lies speaking ok
                   with stone its its mouth just fine ok

Review: I´m just going to say this: I would love this poem if it didn´t have the high-caps, and instead of the words that are in the high-caps, you simply put them in their own stanza. Then I would really love this poem. High caps are an easy way out in trying to make something more intense and/or important. This poem is so close to being completely awesome, just try and give its own stanza and see what you think. McDogFACE 5 stars
I Rated this review: Very Helpful 5 Gavels:
Thanks for the advice. The reason for the high-caps was only visual, to make the form of the poem look like a house with a chimney and a stone fence in front of it. Perhaps a little too unusual but it is possible to look at poems as pictures as well as reading material. For instance in Chinese poetry.

04/10/2006: Poet Stars Expert Level, Reviewer Gavels Professional Level
Forever

Undoubtedly there are always ships out there,
steady on their laid course. There are lights
in the night, and we can see them.
When did it start? Long, long time ago.
Always. It always starts here, where the river
reaches the sea, and never ceases here.
There are white sails in seagulls´wings,
red as the sunset, reminiscent of fisher men
along the coast in small wooden boats.
And a sailboat glides light as a feather toward a green
coast and it is like summer when the sun
shines bright in winter. Silver touches green,
green greens and darkens
into a golden summer, many golden summers
come and go. Poppies´red glow
on summer´s coast is there, down beneath
winter´s white.

Review 1: This was nice I like this vivid detail of nature portrayed in your poem I think it´s quite expressive and soothing keep up the writing! beh 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels: I like what you said about 'soothing.
The colours confirm a belief in summer beyond the discontents of winter.'
Review 2. This poem gave me a mysterious vibe. I liked how you put it all together to make a strong feeling. Overall it had a lot of thought put into it and I´m sure it takes a lot of care to put that feeling across. younoyoulove it 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels: Thanks for your keen observation It is true that the poem gets a mysterious effect on account of its development from impression to abstraction. Neptune, the planet like the sea god, has been called the Mystic.

04/12/2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Review Rank Professional Level
Calm And Light 

This surface telles me enough, giving a bright sensation
to the silence of blue space.
The cold has finally withdrawn, the swans, brighter than white, win, also against the distant bridge
which plays strokes of the bow in blue
into a thin thread in perspective,
and the calm man standing in the water fishing.

Let it, then, be a consolation to them
that these momentary signs of life,
already as I saw them,
let me forget them,
as they meant nothing
except calm and light to me.

Review: I love the picture you paint with words, can see the sights in mind of which you write. I understand what you´re saying I think, that what is expected is all tales of quite awesome events, but what you saw was awesome, serene, peaceful, but cannot be appreciated by those who don´t understand?
Cheryl 5 stars
Irated this review: very helpful 5 Gavels:It is part of the poem that you wonder why I do not care more about what I see. But if the situation is calm, and you only see a calm man fishing, you are not exactly fascinated as you are with war, for instance. It is just nice. Peace is taken for granted. And that may be a problem!

04/13/2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Review Rank Professional Level
Always Present
 
Does it see me
with its squirrel eyes
as I see it
sitting there in its tree
which it owns so naturally
and maybe also shows
because I respect it
when playing the drum
on the stumped branch disc
by making itself into  a sound
of a certain clatter
by its little claws
as if part of the tree itself,
it let its annual ring show
clearly in the sunshine.
Year after year it has come
and come again
to be here
as the most important place in the world.

The pheasant is here for the same reason
with its mottled colours
as it reminds me of them
in the dark when it´s laden
with small triangular beak cries
a hair darker blue
than the summer night

Review: I´m not sure I read from the same view as your comments would lead to...I see it more of a still-life tableau of sorts, a rather naturalistic frieze, I think, in part, due to the vibrant description you lend the pheasant, which in my mind would be in the foreground of this still life. And your 'drumming' lends a rhythmic bachground counterpointed by the scratching of the tiny claws on the bark. A sensee of wild, a sense of home, a strong voice of music. Nicely crafted. miav 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels:
It is very good to see the picture from your viewpoint, with the pheasant in the foreground. If you paint a picture, you start with the background and end with the foreground. This seems to have been the case for me as you pecieve the entire picture as an effect, with sound in the foreground as well as in the background.

04/18/2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Review Rank Expert Level)
Even The Stones Listen

The young Americans
whirled through the countries of Europe
in the speed endowed them by the airplane,
as leaves raised by the evening wind.

But Edvard Munch - he was some magnet.
And from Christianaia-Oslo he still tempted them.
Here was one of the few they owed respect:
internationally known painter

And he wasn´t dull, passé,
boring or reactionary like most other monuments,
but a Bohemian who scorned all prejudice
without becoming too sedate himself.

Now, he is dead very long time ago.
But you can be damn sure
that he´s still watching in his pictures.
We are all truly seen!

Review:
Fini - I hope you had a pleasant experience with the young Americans, and not disappointing. There is a fad which started in the 70's that all highschool graduates must go to Europe. They are still doing it. I don´t know how they conduct themselves. I hope not too badly. I have heard of Munch - I must look up his paintings. Van Gogh is known mostly for Starry Nightm but I klove all his paintings. I know Ibsen´s work, but didn´t know he wrote in Danish. I enjoyed wandering with Peer Gynt through all the countries of the world, and also like Grieg´s suite about him. I had a Norwegian teacher in college who taught German and Spanish, The Spanish, he said, he learned from a
 student. They would get in the car, and drive and drive, while the student taught him Spanish. Can you visualize Spanish with a Norwegian accent? But he was an angel, a doll. His spirit still lives in that old liberal arts building at that college. To get around to a review - I really liked your poem about that master artist. I almost can picture him in my mind! Regards Katherine 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels: The young American students came to me in Copenhagen as a result of my years as a foreign student in Monterey 1955-56, and I saw the original Munch paintings in Norway myself together with Americans traveling through Denmark, Sweden and Norway in 1961. So the impressions from Norway ar combined with very nice memories. If you see pictures by Munch where they were made, you cherish them even more if you have been interested in them from afar. Yes, Ibsen wrote in Danish, and several of his works were written in Denmark. Norway and Denmark still have much in common, although they are so different geographically. 

04/20 2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Reviewer Gavels Expert Level

"From The New World" (Symphony by Dvorak 1841-1904)
North America enveloped
in autumn colours, crystal air,
 an atmosphere of embassy
even at Grand Canyon.
Thus Dvorak, the Czech composer,
once let his Pegasus and carriage
stride across the plains,
as he still does, on grammophone recordings,
thin and shining spiral-spinning wheels of Fortune
to his memory and our ears.
Like the theatre painter with his long brush
on the revolving round horizon
over the picture on the floor
- but here in oil and highly polished,
seasoned European quality,
well guarded in a USA museum,
among its china vases
and selected carpets.

Until Bret Harte, his contemporary but in books,
tells him in Western-Gold Rush terms
from Mother Lode and Frisco
of Sierra Nevada´s pure white snow,
and of the stars´ indifference.

Then - I imagine - Dvorak wants to leave,
still in a gentle mood, though, towards America,
as he first was to old Bohemia in Europe
which offered him its tone by birth
- still moved by other winds
which stamp the music: U. S. A.

Review 1. Ah the majesty of Dvorak´s New World Symphony! I could hear it fresh in my mind as I read your lovely poem! I´m a native Californian so have respect for the author´s who set the stage for the legend of what was the "Gold Rush" begun in 1849. I often write to Dvorak when I´m working on a scene that requires a powerful state of mind to propel my chapter and story forward. Thank you for sharing Fini. It was my pleasure to read and review your fine work. ladyauthor 1. 5 stars.
I rated this review: Very helpful, 5 Gavels:
I was a foreign student at Monterey Peninsula College 1955-56 and played the clarinet in the MPC Band. We played at Sunset Auditorium in Carmel, both classical and jazz arrangements. I visited Bret Harte Country at the Mother Lode; it was a place with a special atmosphere. Bret Harte certainly deserves to be better known today.
Reviw 2. This is a great poem, the New World Symphony was running through my head as I read this, reminding me of great open plains. I´m hoping both you and Dvorak had something similar in mind when he wrote. Dazz 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels
I know what Dvorak had in mind because I been through all the states from California to New York by Greyhound bus, and the norther states from New York to San Francisco by train. So I know the sweeping sensation which must have inspired the composer. I have also visited the Mother Lode in Bret Harte Country.
Review 3. To place history into verse is indeed a mastery of good writing. It captures a point in time and makes one either relive it or want to explore that past. The poem is a mature piece which inspires, as well as transcends time itself. A masterful, genuine and rewarding piece. johangelo 5 stars.
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels:
It is difficult to write poems with historical content today but Dvorak has helped me with his musical survey which to me always evokes the vastness of America. I have visited the Mother Lode and wanted to make Bret Harte more relevant. I think he is even more American than Mark Twain.

Review 4. ( 04/12/2006):
Thanks so much for the fine review of the West and the addition of Dvorak with its four beat six opening sounds. Poetry is also music. The first on Earth, the music from mouth to ear. One hopes you will find some joy in the addition of /Rhythms and voweled rhyming phrases as you progress into the higher Worlds of the masters such as Longfellow. H/A There is a site (podigs.com) on which you may find the collected works of this writer. Please visit it at your leisure. Here´s hoping you will condescend to read my "How to Write A Poem" Part I & Part II Pieces on this website. Should you find these pieces worthy please tell others and Spread the Word. This is a long Essay and is not for the idle or lazy. All is not known by myself. But it may be of help to real aspirant poets. Please read other poems by Housseinafghani. 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels: Thank you for your positive attitude to this poem which is a narrative and imagination at the same time. I just had to tell how I experience the composer Dvorak and the writer Bret Harte, the two contemporaries, quite different people but both great artists. You are quite right in stating that poetry is also music. All art is poetic. I have read some of the classical English poets a long time ago, and I assure you that I cherish them. But I think my more prosaic poems appeal to a sufficient number of readers to create a response from everyday people. That does not mean that I would never read more rhymed and metrical poems like yours. I am sure that you can teach many poets valuable lessons of they happen to read tour work on this site. It is an opportuinity they might never have anywhere else.


04/20 2006: Poet Rank Expert Level, Reviewer Rank Expert Level

Lonely Flowers

Bunches of daffodils in the tall grass
around the small neglected half-timbered house
makes me wonder this spring
as everything lingers:
what is the reason why they get together,
especially in this place,
standing as if they chatter with the wind
that blows a little,
making their yellow bell heads swing.

Then suddenly there is a ladder
leaning aginst the thatched roof,
and yellow patches light up
 a couple of places on the grey straw.
Somebody must be fond of that house - still.

Review 1: This is an image filled and wonderful poem - easy to read, though at the beginning, a little sad. The 2nd part of the poem, however, lifts the mood, and the last line is a wonderful way to end the poem. Great work. jax071 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels
It is quite tru that the begninng seems a little sad. Nevertheless, the impression of the flowers is filled with a special joy which is confirmed by the result of the 'advertisement' of the flowers: there are new people in the old house, and that is joy which is shared by the flowers. If you could say that flowers wish for people.

Reviwe 2: This piece reminded me of some Chinese poetry I read a few weeks ago that described a similar neglected scene. Beautiful whisome feel to this one and simple in its structure but complex in its evocation. Ardy 5 stars

I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels
I like Chinese scenes, and I live close to a fisherman´s beach where I can see boats, I often thin of Chinese pictures with the atmosphere of such small, peaceful places. The house with the daffodils has something like that. Thanks for your observation.
Review 3: I loved this, somebody must be fond of that house what a tribute the flowers did, maybe they were a symbol of love of one who is no more, planted as a reminder of him or her to one who also lived and no more...oh the emotions are pouring out with your poem. Lovely to read. Trudy Belle 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels:
The old house had been inhabited by elderly people whose photographs were seen inside. The flowers certain ly acted as symbols of love in that connection, and the feeling is that the symbol worked.

Review 4. Such a wonderful memory in time. Great description, vivid imagery, and emotion. It is a pleasure to read for you. sandra 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels:
Thanks for your appreciation of a poem which deals with a peaceful situation, showing that there are possibilities in neglected places.

Review 5 (04/28/2006): This is exquisite...I love the flow and format...through and through...everytime I thought you were done, yopu captured my mind with your verbal artistry. Sincerely crjem 1991 5 stars.
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels: I certainly appreciate the way yu express your opinion. The content of the poem may be a little ondfashioned but it is exactly because of that special quality I cherish your verdict 'exquisite'.

(Confidentially I also had the title from the German composer Schumann´s piece: Einsame Blumen) 

05/03/2006: Poet Stars Expert Level,  Reviewer Gavels Expert Level
The Spectator

To be there
is the quest of the journalist
that I am at heart
although I can´t afford it.

To be invited
often is beyond my powers;
I try in vain,
and then it happens.

I should have been there,
and I blame myself
for not being able
to turn the tide.

That is why
I so admire those who could
take risks and then succeed
in spite of meagre means.

Review: Short, simple strokes you deliver...lucky the freedom of speech exists where you are for it does not in other parts of the world! It´s actually a priceless gift that most only appreciate the value of when it´s taken away. You write with an understanding that can only stem from wisdom, each stanza snappy, straight to the point and totally unambiguous...not many can write this way either; let alone think! Curslayer 5 stars
I rated this review: Very helpful 5 Gavels: Your review has been very helpful in a situation when freedom of speech and press is debated, How can we persuade others to  believe in our values if we ar not true to them ourselves? I changed my viewpoint from writer to reader or viewer in the middle of the poem but aren´t we all  in that position to begin with? Each letter, word, poem,work is a new beginning, and rules do not necessarily apply everywhere or at all times.
That is why guilds are no longer relevant. You should not wish to be censored!
The last piece of information from Poets´Workshop I have saved is from 10/20/2006 when I had achieved 1889 Poet Stars (Master Level) and 772 Reviewer Gavels (Master Level). This level was transferred to the new site Poets.com for 'Everyday poetry' where you did not get stars and gavels but only points for each review you made, and such points were only used  to present new poems for reviews. It was completely in accord with the observation in my  last poem on Poets´Workshop and John Updike´s staement that everybody is fundamentally an amateur in poetry which means that there cannot really be a hierarchy in poetry. I therefore am quite indifferent to the fact that I will never achieve the status belonging to a Poet Laureate.

All the following poems in Poets.com are presented at Master Level. No reviews are saved. There were many poems on Poets.com before the few poems I have saved by printing them out but the first of them is from 10/21/2007
Classic

In a world of changes
music offers equilibrium.
And where confusion reigns
there is a chance to take.

There is a chance for you
to change your preference
into a state of growth.
World music is a constant well.

It will be there
in spite of changing worlds.
When it is heard
you´re in accord.

It is for you and me,
we hear the word
in sentences that count.
Whatever happens here and there.

The rest is silence,
everything goes on.
A happening takes place.
The world is moving: take your time.

 
04/21/2008:
Deliverance

I remember once upon a time
delivering a calf
with chains to its hoofs
to a concrete floor

How hard it was
to pull it out
from its mother´s womb
you wouldn´t believe it

If you weren´t there
when it happened
how it saw the light
in harsh reality.

06/08/2008
The Dove Descending

At the summer hous
close to a grove
wood pidgeons
cooed

Bliss was connected
to the possibility
of eating them
if they were shot

The taste of pidgeon
is delicious
it´s so wild
wood pidgeon is a treat

The dove, however,
is a bit different
you do not taste it
it is pure delight - at sight. 

(This poem also appeared in a volume with diffent  international poets in English  published by Noble House in Victorian design)

07/16/2008
A Legendary Figure

Do you remember
Holden Caulfield
who wanted to be
'Catcher in the Rye'?

You must be under fifty
if you don´t, too young
like Holden Caulfield
prone to youth´s mistakes.

And you are very lucky
still to have the chance
to know yourself,
and be yourself as well.

07/20/2008
Dragonfly

Primeval
dragonfly
lands on my hand
in peace

It rests there til I move
then flies away
still we´re in harmony

It´s on my mind
I wonder why
the only answer is
accord

10/04/2008
Here And There

Here at the local archive
where all kinds of photos are collected,
a hobby is developing:
who, where is this?

Then you might think
such history was made of deeds, events, of heroes and inventions,
but th
at´s not the case.

It is the trivial, the commonplace
 which is of interest, the local scene:
where is that beach, those trees,
that hat, what year was it?

Then Washington issues a stamp
which suddenly appears: Mount Rushmore
with four presidents in rock
by Gutzom Borlum (Danish born).

For local folks it is too much,
too far away, why should we know,
but now it´s on a stamp and small
which makes it bearable.

10/05/2008
Letters of Rain

After another Indian summer
rain is now tapping outside
on my window, calming and encouraging, I think
because the season is about to come
for indoor reading and some writing in the dusk.
For music, books, and afterthought.
An afterglow against the cill of afternoon. After the summer prolongation, Christmas is around.
And while I listen to Swiss classic,
a vernacular Greek vase shows continuity:
the potter´s hands are still the same
as in antiquity; it is affordable,
just like the letters of the paper
coming to me through the mail.
I like to see it ias the leaves and letters of the fall.
A thought inspired by the sound of rain.

11/18/2008
Handwritten
To write this poem
I had to get a piece of paper.
I also had
to get a piece of wood
to have a board
to make the paper work
together wit a pen
without a writing desk.
Some say woods are destroyed
when paper is produced
.
I say the opposite:
paper preserves the woods.
Writing on paper
I re-create the woods
like Thoreau´s 'Walden':
my written words
depend on wood.

11/23/2008
Pygmalion At Sea

This is as deep
as once upon a time
when we were fishing
among wrecks.

We might get stuck
on rusty bars
from sunken ships
instead of catching cod.

We found green cannon
and a figure in the sand,
heard siren song.
Now see her: Galatea!

It was deper than we thought.
We were involved
in an incertitude.

12/18/2008
Poinsetta.

Euphorbia pulcherrima,
'the most beautiful doctor´s plant',
originally from Mexico,
has been cultivated,
and is popular at Christmas.
The Christmas Star
is its adopted name, Yulestjerne.
What is so special about it
is that the small yellow flowers
are almost invisible;
instead you see the bright top leaves
which make the red leaves glow.
You think the flower is red
like Santa Claus but you are wrong;
it is the yellow flowers
which will bloom in winter.
Do not eat them, they are poison
wrapped in red and green.
But at first sight the plant blooming in winter
is the most beautifil medicine.

With this Christmas poem the saved collection of poetry from the two poetry workshops are finished. 

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17.01 | 18:15

Søren: hvis du ser dette, må du godt byde på billedet og få det til din pris, fordi du er interesseret, på betingelse af, at du selv henter det/ betaler porto.

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Søren. Billedets mål:60x70 cm. Pris 300 kr. ved afhentning ok? ellers + porto.

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