Mohr_i_Ghan's profile
AGE:
48
LOC: Canada
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: April 15
LOC: Canada
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: April 15
I was born with artistic sensibilites and abilities. I could create art, sculpt and draw at an early age with no training. I pursued Fine Art, Art History In University, Graphics, Camera and Printing in College, and finally got certificates in Horticulture and Landscape Design which is what I do today.
Writing free verse poetry is another creative outlet for me since I was a teen(mostly in a journalistic fashion then).I’m working on improving my skills by reading about traditional poetic structures, and possibly incorporating them in new writings. For now my poetry is within the context of angst ridden romance, abstract, symbolism, nature and human observation, with possible expansion into short stories. looking forward to reading other…
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Version 1
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Thundercloud waves (inverted) the skies ocean unrest to hourds below a torrent mud slides will atest. Afterwards a drought (exerted) presents a puckered crust leaves fall in midsummer seasonal mistrust. Autumn leaves (revertant) No spectacle here feast and famine show their face amongst browsing deer. Spring dogwood (perverted) bracts don’t unfold the buds are nip’t by winter frost stories left untold. Natures incompletion (deserted) faulters in our wake the shore erodes the chain is broken f...
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Version 2
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the clocks jumped ahead a melt ensued four metres of piled hills a winter of roller coaster frozen flake compress melting, trickling sent downhill along the culverts within a few days to the marshy flats below I heard the robin sing then.... winds pummeled every standing thing I could feel a rattling while half asleep in bed panes nearly shattered from the hissing raging gail cold dipping down a pinball drops frigid fingers snapping tree branches scattered in the yard snow flew diagonal like ...
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Version 1
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the clocks jumped ahead a melt ensued sending four metres of piled hills a winter of roller coaster frozen flake compress melting, trickling all downhill along the culverts within a few days to the marshy flats below I heard the robin sing then.... winds pummeled every standing thing so hard I could feel a rattling while half asleep in bed the hissing raging gail cold dipping down a pinball drops frigid fingers snapping like the tree branches scattered in the yard snow flew diagonal like thre...
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Version 1
1 Review
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Hand bag, briefcase, blackberry stuff within defines The empty carrier. Hope embodies props, mannequins, storage chests. Enslavened sloth consuming all yet empty living fat: closet full, cupboards stocked, Decor rooms wanting thin: size zero, Jenny Craig, minimalism BIG red tie Exclamation man Ukranian eggs fancy, fragile Empty. Deprived overindulgence Settled homelessness Soul still unfound God shows me where reverence for the false reality is exclusive for banknotes galore the poison buffet...
Version 4
2 Reviews
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I don't remember what you said, how you said it or the promises made. I don't remember how you smile, full lips relaxed, then tightened over a nervous grin. I don't remember what we shared spontaneous conversation, open wound poetry, paintings , art or music. I don't remember what we ate sumptuous foods beneath gazing eyes of desire. I don't remember how you felt, your entoxicating aroma as we hugged. I won't remember what you said. flimsy oaths emitted from a weak selfish heart. I only remem...
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Reviews
I'll try my best here. A Poem is meant to invoke images, thoughts, ideas.....this piece offers an idea/image then sweeps it away with question marks. Your writing about how we define our world around us but present it like a psychology workbook exercise in conscious thought. All of the questions impose upon the reader to define everything that makes them whole..or what makes you you You have a great ability to mix discriptive words but the queries leave me feeling disconnected to the work.......
This doesn't really fit any poetic style I'm aware of so I'll look at it as free verse. Assuming I am blind to the authors identity, with that title I would want some generationa context. What was going on and shaped you?where are the symbols of the time ? The feeling is suicidal, futile, paranoi, and arrogant. Not many would want to participate or embrace a written piece that leaves them feeling hopeless and worthless. If you want to convey how some people become totally devalued in a modern...
Now this is good! The reader can feel the joy and appreciation in the images. The final line topped it off. Creativity is soul feeding regardless if the critics knock you down. The only thing I would add would be,maybe,a couple of nature images? ( progressing dusk, rustling leaves, a dog fetching his ball in a bush)....something non human. But I'm not YOU! We are so self centered!lol
I like your use of cochophony and I was just going to comment on the rythmn (tentrmeter) until I saw your comments. This made me lol. The "dougie" part was a little unclear. I suppose you want it to read like he used the Bidet for the bowl but it reads like he used both. Have you read about poetry styles? I'm just starting to. Here's a site that may be of assistance http://www.types-of-poetry.org.uk/index.htm As a novice I found this very entertaining.
"..screw the rules, .I don't care about grammer..." Fine. You blog about expressed rebellion through clothing. How the youth use pictures and sayings from past rebels/mavericks who lived the rebellion, and how their efforts are trivialized by being sold and marketted to the masses. then you jump from that to a racial observation " close the borders" You think that will solve all of your problems? Walk in your shoes? The way you wrote this is a total turn off. This piece lacks any explanation ...
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