11-13-2013, 10:43 PM
I am new here so forgive my stumbling attempts at doing critique. I am not sure there is a great deal for me to say actually as I really, really liked this.
My heaven's shape will not be constant
its fluid sides will undulate
like those giant bubbles I made
in the garden at four years old-
rainbow-prisons floating through air. - love this, really beautiful and wistful. It gave me a sense of a delicate space. I wonder if 'floating rainbow-prisons' is worth considering - it seems obvious that they are in the air.
My heaven will smell like mountainous slopes
off highways outside Rio-
trashheap smoke winds from damp ditches,
heady wet soil and tiny pink blooms
color my toddler hands. Eyes widen,
breath deepens, as fresh storms fill the air. - I really got the sense of the damp ditches and smoke winds, I stumbled a bit at the pink blooms - the image is lovely it felt like a change in tense and made me have to re-read.
My heaven will sound like my sister's fingers
when they fly over ivory and pound
out the melodies I hoard under guise,
as notes and silence hover
in the slowly stalling air. - the lines about your sister are my favourite, really lovely.
Hard to critique really because I liked it so much.
My heaven's shape will not be constant
its fluid sides will undulate
like those giant bubbles I made
in the garden at four years old-
rainbow-prisons floating through air. - love this, really beautiful and wistful. It gave me a sense of a delicate space. I wonder if 'floating rainbow-prisons' is worth considering - it seems obvious that they are in the air.
My heaven will smell like mountainous slopes
off highways outside Rio-
trashheap smoke winds from damp ditches,
heady wet soil and tiny pink blooms
color my toddler hands. Eyes widen,
breath deepens, as fresh storms fill the air. - I really got the sense of the damp ditches and smoke winds, I stumbled a bit at the pink blooms - the image is lovely it felt like a change in tense and made me have to re-read.
My heaven will sound like my sister's fingers
when they fly over ivory and pound
out the melodies I hoard under guise,
as notes and silence hover
in the slowly stalling air. - the lines about your sister are my favourite, really lovely.
Hard to critique really because I liked it so much.