reerds's profile

reerds avatar
AGE: 55
LOC: Ramona, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: December 01

53 yr.old ex-Brooklynite, New Jerseyan, Aussie, ship captain, now a semi-reclusive Californian, poet, sculptor, artist, graphic designer, living 5 mi. outiside a lil’ cowboy town in the  foothills of the San Diego mountains, 1/2 mi up a dirt road on an 8 acre hilltop. I am “The Fool on the Hill.”

Item Stats
Reviewer Stats
Items
Version 4
0 Reviews   0 Comments
Wizard of odd, where presidents stood Machiavellian jackass claiming deed to Good Beware, the apprentice has the wand Waving it about like the Taliban Senate remains in his pocket Justices’ agenda and Her docket Rhetoric spewing political machine Inflaming Jihad beyond the extreme Replacing prosecutors, changing laws Offering our liberties for the cause Opening loopholes, paving the way For special interests and judgment day Hurling stones all week long Trust him he can do no wrong Stompin’ o...
Ratings & Rankings
Horror / THE LOUP GAROU
Version 1
15 Reviews   12 Comments
Disturbed one evening, while reading by the fireside, I sat overcome with foreboding, gazing into the fire, Upon the first full moon of the year. Drawn to my door, turning the knob, flinging it open wide, There illumined by the night’s orb of desire Stood a hound, a stray, whose glance contemplated my fear Piercing my gaze to some unknown, hypnotic bound. Igniting some magic kindle, with a ringing in my ear, I stepped out into the wintry gloom, spellbound. Catatonically into the icy chill, De...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
0 Reviews   0 Comments
Here for so long, gone in an instant A great swath of Nature's brush Makes the shadows all different Time encapsulating pain, encapsulating life Embracing precious life Reminded that life is change.
Ratings & Rankings
Poetry / The Loup Garou
Version 2
0 Reviews   0 Comments
Disturbed one evening, while reading by the fireside, I sat overcome with foreboding, gazing into the fire, Upon the first full moon of the year. Drawn to my door, turning the knob, flinging it open wide, There illumined by the night's orb of desire Stood a hound, a stray, whose glance contemplated my fear Piercing my gaze to some unknown, hypnotic bound. Igniting some magic kindle, with a ringing in my ear, I stepped out into the wintry gloom, spellbound. Catatonically into the icy chill, De...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
15 Reviews   2 Comments
Who are you, intruder, stranger in my field? Who dare to trespass, to cull my spawn? To reap a harvest you did not sow Disturbing those of us, who lie below Interred with earth and root entwined The worms lick my bones Teasing, enticing, arising Bursting through the earthy door I stand here again, my ashes disturbed You, now before me, ‘pon your soul I sup The richness of this deep, red sauce Droplets on my fangs Don’t stand there aghast, appalled Had this scenario not occurred to you? There ...
Ratings & Rankings
Reviews
Locked
Dark and hopeless, but not without merit. Most pieces I read which end in despair have little to offer. I find this refreshing in description and the use of original metaphors, which moves it up many notches. I'd remove "frozen fire". The lack of punctuation suprisingly didn't bother me, but would help for a smoother read.
Non-fiction / God Sits on the Shelf
Classic internal struggle. I like how the "forced spirituality" of Catechism and family/community expectations raise questions which become answered from within and from simple, traditional acts such as the older woman doing their blessing. I like the simplicity of the metaphors, i.e. "like the sugary frosting on the cake" come from within the story. Very well written.
Poetry / Simon
I've done quite a few reviews here and this is my first 10. Quite a picture you paint of our decaying civilization, that which we living the charmed life in "Whitebread Kaukasia" keep ignorant to. Afterall, we wouldn't want any of this to upset our backyard barbeques and dreams of early retirement, would we? I could go on & on about your use of language, metaphors, etc., but I won't. It's all there. Superb!
Poetry / debaseball
It is rough. There is enough there to create something worthwhile. Personally, I don't think this is the forum for something so unfinished but, my red pencil is sharpened. I think that you are trying to cover too many bases. The piece begins with the classic confrontation, game on the line, slugger at the plate, crowd on the edge of their seats, etc. Good setting. I like the first stanza. What is "pitcher steps a-mounding?" Yes, there is such a thing as poetic license, but . . . I think you c...