# Cross-posting from poetry.com

The poems are not good, but I'll share my reviews.

Dry leaves fall  -- Poetic
 
I've just subscribed and this is the best poem I've seen so far. The imagery ties well with the concepts. It's a bit too repetitive, but it might be justified by its straightforward manner. The third line of third verse is I think too abstract. This line certainly falls outside the tuned-down flow of the rest of the poem. It would make the poem better, more interesting, if it was better connected with some other, concrete piece of the poem. Some striving that fades from hope? I have reservations about the second half of last verse. The last verse is a necessary part of the poem, it puts the person back into the scenery. I think it provides too little: there's candle-incense, and dear-breathe-arms. But what is colorful, and what is dreamed? "Cradle" connotes the traditional trope of infancy-advanced elderly similarities; I don't buy it. I'd try to put here something worthy of despair. The lively colors of autumn. The wisdom-tainted youth of the dreams.

 Happy Birthday Dad -- Raw, nice idea, too casual

I enjoy conceptual poetry and I like the idea that forms the backbone of your poem. It starts with a feeling of loss in the speaking subject, loss of a younger self, perhaps with his/her joys and perspectives. If two people are close, they form a kind of a single person in two bodies, with flows of passions from one to the other, and shared occupations, growing stronger together. And when this kind of bondage weakens, for me, it can be painful as in a way I contemplate my own death, of the part of my soul that existed as this common person. And then the speaking subject realizes that that part of the soul lives on, because the common person was so deeply rooted in the father, that the relationship finds its nourishment despite the speaking subject has abandoned it. So the speaking subject discovers him/herself alive and complete, which spurs the feeling of dearness and self-love, the strong kind of love of our core values, our identity. The love rather than directing inwards, flows to the father, who is discovered as sharing the identity of the speaking subject him/herself.

The poem doesn't use sufficient poetic devices to convey its meaning so that it would reverberate in the reader. It is not condensed, striking. Surprise the reader rather than just express surprise! Alternatively, it could have sufficient content to ground the idea. Something in the poem to convince me that your connection is genuine rather than an expression of a clever thought. The way of poetry is not to just lay out what you want to say as a clear thesis -- despite we want the thesis to get through! -- and be done.

Fire And Ice -- Nothing creative

I feel sorry for the person to whom the speaking subject addresses the invectives. Why do you think I have no heart just because I'm not warm to you? What makes you think that you see through me? The poem has nothing interesting to offer. On the positive side, at least the poem does not try to be difficult (which, if it was just as unjustified, would make it really terrible).

modality

modality

we climb talking trees
what can be
what would be
would it all could have been
we come back to her place

she climbs to my bed
"slowly", she says
not to wake me up

how does it feel --
but the dream girl fades

identity

identity

Identity is an obligation.
But she doesn't talk much.
She stares sternly
from that photo
I've put as my desktop background.

People confuse her for a
slim girl with thick black hair
wielding a maroon towel
on the beach, summer break,
who's gonna be an actuary.
What can I know from a
black-and-white photograph?

She folds the towel,
the summer folds up.
She moves to a new city.
Only this stays the same,
"today is all we have".

emergent

emergent

falling awake

borrowing a polo shirt
with colors subtly textured

carrying a heavy bag

of a restless night

asking the smiling day for directions

bumping into people and resolutions

failing to deliver

and refitting scaffoldings

Gaudí constructions

searching for a piece of mind

to inhabit

taking a seat next to someone

to ask for a little help

morning down the streets

and letting the sea

play with the calves

evening dining out

table by the beach
taken for a walk

then Avinguda d'Icària

and say goodnight

to yet someone

noon at aeroport
unpacking sandwiches

to eat while waiting

scared

scared

I'm so scared
of touching you
I'm scared
of the hurt I've done
and am going to do
I'm scared
of not being grown-up
up to dreaming of you

I'm scared to death
that will us part


---
2008

bridge-knitter

bridge-knitter

brown bridges of bark-
hardened wool
green garden bridges
brook brows and foothealers
forest alleys
red bike rides
the roots of this place
the grass bridging to the woods
doors painted blue
glossy windows

bridges of spider silk

and optic fibers

bridges outspread
between trunks and islands

needlework
stitching soft words
over unsecured loops
knitted fabric
a suspension wale
- weight anchoring to the ground -
spanned over a river of yarn
that flows closely curve by curve
or stretches beyond
as if suspended on teeth -
biting into
the strings

building bridges
climbing bridges
crossing bridges
bridging bridges

being a bridge

? [distances: close-apart]

***

A hand slips out of a hand and gets lost in a pocket. His smile stiffens slightly, gaze sharpens, her way gets more aside. Sparks of light scattered everywhere, drown expectations in a frosty beauty.


---

Sunny studio

You dance me
your joy
this place is as yours
this rhythm so vivid of you


---
--- translated from:

***

Dłoń gubi się z dłoni i wpada do kieszeni. Uśmiech sztywnieje nieco,
wzrok bardziej przenikliwy, droga bardziej obok. Iskry światła
wszędzie rozsypane, topią oczekiwania w morźnym pięknie.


---

Słoneczne studio

Tańczysz mną
twoja radość
to miejsce jak twoje
ten rytm jest tak żywy tobą
znalazł cię i mnie uskrzydla


---
--- 2007 / 2008