Critiques and Revision

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  • Rookie - 81 Points Leonard G. Allmon (11/4/2014 8:59:00 AM) Post reply
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    I've been digging into some old stuff by 
    Browning, et al, and I may have a case
    of plagiarism against the bombastic fellow...

    A work by Leigh Hunt,1784 - 1859,  The Glove
    And The Lions, is the basis for a rather lengthy
    work by Browning,  (The Glove) , who was born in 
    1812 and did not begin to publish until his mid-twenties
    when he wrote a rather lengthy ramble, detailing
    what Leigh Hunt had concisely (and entertainingly)
    already published...

    I am going to look a little further, and if it does
    turn out that Browning scraped the sides of
    Hunt's soup-bowl, then my estimation of the
    much-lauded writer will cease to exist, and
    he will be relegated to the nether-land of other
    writers who take undue credit...

    One such worthless POS that comes to mind
    is Thoreau, who criticized and reviled the very
    system upon which he depended for his own

    IMO, practically any offspring of a diseased
    garbage collector could write great things if
    he did not have to slave and sweat for his
    very existence, having it handed to him by
    foolish hands...

  • Rookie - 81 Points Leonard G. Allmon (11/4/2014 8:53:00 AM) Post reply

    A Teacher
    Leonard G. Allmon
    October 29,2014

    A Teacher’s work is summer rain to children’s fertile needs,
    To foster blossoms, pure and sweet, where once there was but weeds,
    And this is done, through love, by one, for small or minor gain,
    But more to know you’ve given it, through suffering, through pain,
    And only for the accolade, that’s known to you as one,
    Who stayed the course, without remorse, to see the teaching done.

    To know, full well, that time will tell, as years meld into years,
    The child will grow, the child will know you understood its fears.
    And then one day, you’ll hear the words, few person’s ears shall know,
    “You were my inspiration, and you set my heart aglow,
    I worked so hard because I knew that in me you believed,
    Despite long hours, low pay and more, your guidance I received “.

    A hug, a handshake, through the tears, you watch the child depart,
    And know your chosen path has been rewarding in your heart,
    From that day on, should anyone inquire, “What do you do?“
    In truth you look them in the eye, accept your honor, due,
    Head up, stand tall, you answer clear, with pride none can impeach,
    There is no fear, your answer, pure, comes from the heart, “I Teach! “

    - O-

  • Gold Star - 15,246 Points John Westlake (10/31/2014 8:18:00 AM) Post reply

    He used to sit with his head in his hands and he would cry
    she got a kick of ruining his life with her lies
    he tried to laugh it off even though it is doing him harm
    you can tell from the cuts on his arm

    His dreams turned to dust
    he was not sure who he can trust
    all he wants is for someone to love him for who he is
    not cast him aside and make fun of this

    He sought a new set of dreams to reset his life
    not wanting to end it with a knife
    yet he knew not where to start
    to repair the damage to his fractured heart
    he left that evil girl behind
    and a new existence he wanted to find

    eventually he found a nice girl
    her eyes were pretty and her skin like pearl
    they connected right from the very start
    and together they repaired his damaged heart

    When he used to sit and cry
    now together they sit and watch the night sky
    they love each other for who they are
    and in the heavens they are each other’s stars

  • Rookie - 15 Points ian Timmons (10/27/2014 4:15:00 AM) Post reply

    As the trees tremble with breeze
    As the man falls to a knee
    In the light of the sun and a heart in his hand
    His love will be heard throughout the land

    A life he prays will be coming soon
    A life of one created from two
    In sickness and in health to all that remains
    He will love her forever and he'd do it again

  • Rookie - 15 Points ian Timmons (10/27/2014 4:02:00 AM) Post reply

    A plums endeavor toward the ground
    A fall which I can not catch
    Does it hurt they ask as I lie here
    This basic task again

    A simple one that I partake
    I've done so many before
    The things I regret in the past
    When I stand they'll be no more

  • Gold Star - 15,246 Points John Westlake (10/26/2014 5:22:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Goad Mofterning
    this is not the news
    these are the foot curves

    The statue of happy misery
    has been brought to life
    at the Swiss port of Bern tomorrow
    the melon decapitated itself
    using an ice cream doughnut
    the resulting tidiness has scrambled
    two Antarctic army jets into jelly custard

    A mahogany lime shoe made of cheese
    has written a letter to a ruler in three weeks time
    claiming to have had an inner body experience
    the set square has declined to comment on the eggs

    A free range table has been laid by a cow in old jumper
    complete with shell of penguins
    the cutlery have yet to be hatched from their trees
    but there is no safety to the colonel private

    This was not the news
    now on to the lemon crickets with the granite juice
    a Goad Moafterningight from some of us

    Replies for this message:
  • Rookie - 83 Points Lungelo The Clairvoyant (10/25/2014 11:58:00 AM) Post reply

    Hi, could you guys please read my latest piece which I titled, Vent Of A Laden Heart. Thank you.

  • Rookie - 56 Points Poga Humayun Dundiwala (10/21/2014 10:53:00 PM) Post reply

    sweetswords /diwali.

    At dipawali.
    Light the lamp for blind God.
    With blind faith.

    #dawkins #dipawali

  • Gold Star - 15,246 Points John Westlake (10/20/2014 4:52:00 PM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    Until the book of my life is filled
    I must keep writing it
    almost like a diary
    of what has happened in my existence so far

    Words lines and paragraphs are added
    more of them each day
    the future is left blank
    as the book knows not what will come to be

    Sometimes I like to turn the pages back
    to remember what happened before
    but whole chapters I will not read again
    some things are better off left be

    At the end of my life the book will be completed
    it will never be a best seller in the shops
    but it was never meant to be
    all that would matter
    is that it would belong to me

    Replies for this message:
    • Gold Star - 15,246 Points Anand Brown (10/21/2014 5:15:00 AM) Post reply

      The concept of the poem is without fault, the execution lacks creativity and does not show the creative zeal you would expect a post-modern poet to have. I'll say it is a work in progress, but you are ... more

    • Gold Star - 15,246 Points Points Of View (10/20/2014 9:21:00 PM) Post reply

      Yes! That would belong to you John..There's more empty page to fill it up...Your still young...Still a long way to run(walk) .

  • Rookie - 56 Points Poga Humayun Dundiwala (10/18/2014 7:42:00 PM) Post reply


    Those who are far away.
    Yet remains in intimate thoughts.
    They are never apart.

[Hata Bildir]