Elegance isn't necessarily about appearances...and who wants to be elegant anyway? Pah!
Regarding the poem, I like the explicit simplicity of this; our narrator expresses herself thoughtfully and with honesty. I also liked how you chose to say the sentiment of the final stanza.
This review isn't much of a present, but Happy Birthday.
my elegance is rough as blood and guts and lucky scars go well adorned on blokes who prize survival as a treasure and elegance comes down to standing ground with mangled face into the strongest breeze all clenching teeth and fists and face that screams I SHALL NOT BE DEFEATED!!! hahaha...you have inspired me again :)
this is elegant! a way in few words that shows to a serious question one may ask to oneself. especially appriciate the shift from a narrow two-liner straight into a five line stanza with such wide, in comparison, first line - shows deep emotional resentment of selfness, proven by a simple recollection of before-time which is powerfully emphasized by form of the stanza. language is calm, even quite still, but moves us through process of emotional battle hidden in one's thoughts.
last stanza - a crown - as if our own understanding of self can be found outside ourselves, which is impossible, therefore directing us back into ourselves, to 'now', placing where I live back in its place.
Elegance isn't necessarily about appearances...and who wants to be elegant anyway? Pah!
Regarding the poem, I like the explicit simplicity of this; our narrator expresses herself thoughtfully and with honesty. I also liked how you chose to say the sentiment of the final stanza.
This review isn't much of a present, but Happy Birthday.
. only the most elegant poet could've said this ... and those hands own ... nah possess ... one of the most poetic pens ever known to the human world ... and perhaps other worlds too ... i think the moon definitely knows you from your odes ... you are that charismatic ...
elegance multistreams~ here at this poetic table I bask in the elegance of your delicate~ carefully crafted whispering words~
sometimes~ though~I admit~ I wonder the same about this woman I've become~
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..