poetry critical

online poetry workshop



=For Opal=
netskyIam

She stood upon a stepping
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stool to place upon the shelf
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up high, two jars, her home made
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marmalade: one of cherry, th' other,
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orange.  Nothing rhymes with orange
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in verse, nor even goes now on her toast;
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burnt with nurse. An infamous rhyme from
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another time. Let us quote: Whilst making
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toast by the fire side, Nurse fell into the grate
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and died.  But what made it ten times worse?
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ALL of the toast was burnt with Nurse.
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~
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At least when Opal toppled from....
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We learn how slips and shards become
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related closely with the bum: cherry sweet
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and orange, glassy bits, incorporated
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so well, so far, so south her wits.
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18 Oct 08

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Comments:

Oh crap.  I have a presentment

of nothing further much to come;

everybody does love Opal Dear.

And all I offered to make her sneeze here

is this poem, which lacks even a tweezer.

Woe for me, the poet poor, whose nose

flattens on a well-slamm'd door.
 — netskyIam

no need for 'in verse', cause we're, you know, 'reading a poem'. oh... i see it's yours, nets, so i won't bother cause i know you won't.
 — geckodrome

joey gave me a Kindness Cookie nonetheless.  Thank you from Macadamialand!
 — netskyIam

netsky, take my advice, it might do you some good. Either take a vacation or better still a break from this site. You are in too deep and its effects are starting to show'

From Well Wisher
 — unknown

Thanks for the medical advice, above.  Why don't you show me your expertise here and write about me some witty verse? Can you do it?  Have fun.  I have a great deal of fun in life.  It won't do to pout, or "advise" artists in such dull words of dead prose as yours.
What say? Up to a literary challenge?  I guess not. Surprise me?
 — netskyIam

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