the poem is superb and original in its message and tone...i would only suggest that you put 'let me show you' in quotations...other than that, very very good...

really, this is a very fine gesture on your part and also a poem which is written not here but in me copying and pasting this really, this is a very fine gesture on your part and also a poem which is written not here but in me copying and pasting this really, this is a very fine gesture on your part and also a poem which is written not here but in me copying and pasting this really, this is a very fine gesture on your part and also a poem which is written not here but in me copying and pastin...

this is an empty dream, or rather containing things which remind one of the idea of "emptiness"...the poem all in all i feel is fine, and besides what the author may or may not want to change, i feel that this can go on in its present state as a poem...also, i enjoyed the alliteration present in the piece, which serves to draw it together in steadily engaging "flow"...

my first impression is much as the impression expressed by the poem...how the images we see from busses or trains in the city, where we see a face for maybe a second and then never again, how these are the images that usually not only stay with us but haunt us...as we want to be a part of that image, and there is the tragedy, or one of the many tragedies, of life... very good poem --mb

i think that you might want to consider removing the ', like odysseus' from the title, as to make it somewhat more ambiguous as one begins reading the poem... the major and the, as far as i can diagnose, only problem with the poem is the initial stanza (specifically, the first two lines), as it reads very trite and void of the imaginative allusion that is present throughout the poem. in this sense i mean that you might want to retool not the message but how this poetic thought is relayed. 'da...

this poem is superb. it really is. you should read Mallarme's A Throw of the Dice will never Abolish Chance for more on the banthic condition of the human soul... anyway, i have but one suggestion to allow this piece this shine brighter, and that is this: have you considered dropping the last three lines? or maybe rework it in a way akin to this: With the breath of the ocean in my face I confront my loneliness. Each new wave that rushes cool over my bare feet marks a another moment in which I...

were these maybe the things that this man had eaten prior to making out? that would seem a logical conclusion, no? the way you invoke those things in the beginning really gives a tactile sense to the poem, but that is assuming the person reading has had these things, not to mention that they even know to think of them as spicy, burning, "hot", etc. is 'good' in L3 necessary?

well, in L2, sculpted to me implies "man-made" or having had their form affected by man...so, in this sense, is this what you are going for? L2-L3 are problematic, as i also don't gain anything from the line 'morning light', as it is somewhat undestinguished...i would suggest something like 'dew-split light' or hell even 'golden light'... other than this the poem is interesting and worthwhile, your son's simple comment betraying his innocent conception/dialectic of war: an ugly thing that cou...

with the slurring of names and the mention of limes a part of me "in the back of my head" cannot help but think of this as being a metaphor for a bar or something...avoiding drunk chicks? at any rate this fits somewhat poetically in with the celibacy in the poem, the impossibility of avoiding her but the ability to "walk away"...though this is an objective observation almost of what you'll do, and what she will do, but moreover this, in your case in the poem, renders this poetic idea somewhat...

just a few suggestions: L6: maybe change 'don't' to 'wont' for alliterative effect.. S4: maybe isolate 'a forest fire' in its own stanzaic form, so like as a line by itself better enforcing its (at least i perceive) intention of being an anomaly inside the poem... jeeze i've been reading some good stuff on this site lately... People sit in corners, reading/in this house//where the heater in the basement/bangs like a death drum. ...the concept of the soul 'haunting' its own body is so extremel...