curses

curses

A Poem by Emily B
"

been contemplating Tennyson's "Lady of Shalott"

"

You’re whispering secrets to stars
and I’m warbling love songs
to confused meadowlarks.

Tennyson is too romantic

for a fool like me.

Maybe I should keep to my tower--
busy fingers making seams
no one can see.

Even if there are curses.

I will still walk
through the green valley
holding a valiant hand.


© 2010 Emily B


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

Hey, I really like this. It feels carefully-crafted, so I'll cup its fragile words gently in my mind and savour your skill.

"and I’m warbling love songs
to a confused meadowlark" - for some reason I love a good metaphor beginning with 'and', I think it's the implied casual voice...and this is a particularly nice one.

Like everyone below, I have only praise for this poem.
Cheers for sharing it with us.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


3 of 3 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Wonderful .. and you know, Tennyson was an admirer of poetry and poets, and, if he read this I don't doubt a minute that he'd shake his head, stroke his beard and leave you a great review. Your writing equals stars in the skydom .. always.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

emily,

i'd say with my recent work people are likely to say:

what the hell does that mean.

perhaps that's a problem.

with yours, i'd say that it's sometimes got too much resolution.

we can assume that the poem was written about someone or a series of no-ones whose absence has always suggested someone, so in that sense the poem's last line is too much imo.

there is a poem here, i enjoy several passages.


You’re whispering secrets to stars.
I’m warbling love songs
(to confused meadowlarks).

Tennyson is too romantic.

Maybe I should keep to my tower--
busy fingers making seams
no-one can see.

Sometimes there are curses.

I still-walk
through the green valley
holding a valiant hand.


*I'm not saying that's it either. what i liked about the poem was that it could be broken up into immediate states and actions,

and then it broke away into idealism and that contrast contains the sadness.

there's a humdinger poem here.

for me, that last poem i write, and pretty much with all of them,
i sit there and switch words and phrasing around for hours, doing edit on edit on edit, and changing the formatting.

there's a good poem here, a real cracker.



This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


0 of 1 people found this review constructive.

lovely,lovely,lovely and what a favoured hand that would be.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Full of uncertainty and simple love. A very true feeling.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

impossible love, who will take it. the writer of this poem seems to be questioning her owns souls direction. figuring out, asking herself who the "you"s are in her world.

I agree too that this is a "notch above" kind of a poem.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


what a beautiful topography of words enriched by the magikal sound of breathing caressing each and every line~

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

you’re whispering secrets to stars
and saving up wishes
I like these lines they definately speak to me.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Hey, I really like this. It feels carefully-crafted, so I'll cup its fragile words gently in my mind and savour your skill.

"and I’m warbling love songs
to a confused meadowlark" - for some reason I love a good metaphor beginning with 'and', I think it's the implied casual voice...and this is a particularly nice one.

Like everyone below, I have only praise for this poem.
Cheers for sharing it with us.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


3 of 3 people found this review constructive.

Warbling love songs and valiant hands; now, that's nice.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I've spent the better part of my life whispering to stars. A few times, they nearly whispered back. Lovely, Emily.

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

2012 Views
40 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on October 28, 2010
Last Updated on November 13, 2010
Previous Versions

Author

Emily B
Emily B

Richmond, KY



About
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..

Writing
My place My place

A Poem by Emily B


For Emma For Emma

A Poem by Emily B


Old bones Old bones

A Poem by Emily B



Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..


catching up catching up

A Poem by Emily B