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Literature Text
How does the cicada know
After seventeen years of maturation
To burrow itself
Into the trunks of trees
If it has only tasted roots?
How does the cicada know
To shelter and unshelter itself
As if it were
Domestic violence under a tin roof
That goes over a young boy's head.
After seventeen years of maturation
To burrow itself
Into the trunks of trees
If it has only tasted roots?
How does the cicada know
To shelter and unshelter itself
As if it were
Domestic violence under a tin roof
That goes over a young boy's head.
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
Literature
Awake
Awake
We - are the children of Cygnus
Sagittarius , the Pleiades, Orion, and the Dog Star
Sprung from the womb of the Hypernova
Recycled, Reborn, Eternal
Observe
Times arrow returned to its quiver
Unlimited
Alive - in every moment that has been
or will ever be
Free
From the shackles of the linear mind
and the material wastelands of the Fallen
Pity the mortal and the blind
We dine on starlight
and dance to the rhythm of the fractal void
The heavy metal, rock and roll beat of the Magnetar and Star Quakes
The techo-jazz, thump thump thump of the pulsars
The waltz of the binaries
in their elegant embrace
We ride the big surf of the Broa
Literature
Endless
Memories so visceral
I can still taste them,
like the salty sweet wash of your skin
after a slow morning run
in the dancing summer rain.
Eyes a shade of amber,
golden flakes glowing in the warmth
of a crackling fire,
your lips parted like an envelope
I'm aching to seal.
Words whispered silently,
a tender glance exchanged,
an undulation of emotion,
a burst of color and a blast of light,
two lone figures unite.
Hands in the dirt,
knees in the slushing mud,
battle weary and fatigued,
I trudge step by step
toward the peak of this moment,
a banner raised,
emblazoned with your name.
For I'd rather die on the hill,
swathed in the regalia of my d
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You have questions.
Critique and feedback for #theWrittenRevolution:
Is the poem too short? Does it need more setup before the closing lines?
Does the cicada analogy set up the poem sufficiently? Should it be expanded upon?
How are the line breaks and stanza breaks?
What is your opinion if the lines were shorter and more even with each other?
Do the closing lines read faster than the rest of the poem to you? Does this seem good or bad to you?
© 2012 Nic Swaner
Critique and feedback for #theWrittenRevolution:
Is the poem too short? Does it need more setup before the closing lines?
Does the cicada analogy set up the poem sufficiently? Should it be expanded upon?
How are the line breaks and stanza breaks?
What is your opinion if the lines were shorter and more even with each other?
Do the closing lines read faster than the rest of the poem to you? Does this seem good or bad to you?
© 2012 Nic Swaner
Comments6
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I thoroughly enjoyed this piece (which is saying a lot, because you know I'm not much of a poetry person). I like things short, fast and hard-hitting, which is why this came as a pleasant surprise in my message centre. It was the initial imagery that sucked me in - if it has only tasted roots? - and how it left me wondering exactly why a cicada does what it does. Actually, it left me on Wikipedia. The end image was beautiful and perfectly timed.
I did feel the pace of the poem was appropriate; as I mentioned, I do like a short and to-the-point piece that will still leave you deep in thought. There's a talent to it. I felt the first three stanzas and the cicada anthology were of a nice length, well-paced, and set up the subject matter nicely. However, the ending itself was rather abrupt (wonderful and evocative as it was) and if I'm being picky, I'd say a line or two more to stipulate, or just emphasise, the point you are making might be something to think about. I would have liked to know what the final two lines were before *riparii's comment. As for the pace, the last two lines were a little faster but it didn't have any detrimental effect on the piece overall.
Regarding the hardware (form, grammar; I'm a geek in all walks) I found your use of punctuation and line breaks well placed. I personally would have not capitalised each line - I like a short piece to read a little quicker - but that's personal preference, and I'm familiar with your classic style. If there's one thing I don't want you to change, it's the line lengths and where you have placed the breaks. It works like this.
I also like the breaks after To burrow itself and As if it were. It emphasises the bare bones of the questions the reader is supposed to be asking themself. Hell, the second stanza stuck in my mind like glue. Irritating, jealous glue. Wikipedia, remember? Overall, really great piece. I always enjoy reading your work and this was no exception. <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/a/a…" width="15" height="15" alt="" title="Aww"/>