Welcome to the PoCoChapMo ‘24 Feedback Corner!
This thread is dedicated to gaining constructive feedback and workshopping your poems. Whether you're looking for a fresh perspective, suggestions for improvement, or simply want to share your work, this is the place for you.
How to Use the Feedback Corner
Sharing Your Work:
Post Your Poem: Share the poem you’d like feedback on. Be sure to include any specific areas where you’re seeking advice (e.g., structure, imagery, tone).
Context: If helpful, provide a brief context or background for your poem. This can include the prompt you used or your inspiration.
Be Respectful: Remember that sharing poetry can be a vulnerable experience. Offer support and encouragement alongside your critique.
Giving Feedback:
Be Constructive: Focus on providing helpful and specific feedback. Highlight what works well in the poem and suggest areas for improvement.
Be Respectful: Always approach feedback with kindness and respect. Remember, the goal is to help each other grow as poets.
Be Specific: Offer detailed observations and suggestions. For example, instead of saying “I didn’t like this part,” try “I think the imagery here could be stronger by adding more sensory details.”
Workshop Guidelines
Workshopping Poems:
Detailed Reviews: If you’d like a more in-depth critique, mention this when you post your poem. Fellow poets can then take the time to provide a thorough review.
Revisions: Feel free to post revised versions of your poems based on the feedback you receive. This can help track your progress and show how your work evolves.
Ask Questions: Don’t hesitate to ask specific questions about your poem or the feedback you receive. Clarifying questions can lead to more insightful critiques.
Example Post
Poem: Whispers of the Night
In the stillness, shadows dance,
Whispers weave a silent trance.
Moonlight casts a silver hue,
Dreams awaken, pure and true.
Context: This poem was inspired by a word prompt about “night.” I’m particularly looking for feedback on the imagery and flow.
Feedback Given:
Positive: “I love the imagery in the first line; it sets a mysterious tone.”
Constructive: “The second line feels a bit vague. Maybe adding a more specific detail about the shadows could enhance the image.”
Engage and Support
This Feedback Corner is not just about receiving feedback but also about giving it. Take the time to read and respond to others’ poems. Your insights can be incredibly valuable and help foster a sense of community.
We’re here to grow together as poets. Let’s make the most of this space by supporting each other with thoughtful and constructive feedback. Happy writing and sharing!
Day 30 I struggled like Genevieve so I decided on satire ... Some sort of mangled elegy
The end is nigh! So hear my plight—oh friend!
Joy we shared, and pain, and grammar's bite.
Alas, all good things must come to an end.
But I write my p-cove chapbook tonight!
Day 30
Prompt: Write an elegy to the month...
Context: For whatever reason, I just could not get this one done - I tried, many times, and get slightly hung up on a different lament of a poem, and I know I don't HAVE to write something, but I wanted to, and since I hadn't done one yet, I wrote a Tanka to say goodbye to the month. Which my brain only let me do after I had given up for the evening... so it goes.
Poem:
We whisper goodbye,
To not wake those resting here,
Deep in their dreams, as
Calendar pages likes leaves
Fall from the tree on this night.
Day 28 prompt: Prompt: Write an ode to something from your past, or any past.
Context: I wanted to celebrate what usually isn’t considered a worthy subject for an ode. The moments in between the big moments, to the unimportant objects that make life a little bit easier but we don't get attached to. An ode to the people in the background who allow us to spend time with the people we love in the foreground, to everything that just exists without trying to be noticed
Ode to Things Left Untold
To the silence between words,
the soft spaces where meaning lingers,
to the breath you never notice
but carries you from thought to thought.
I sing for the forgotten hours
that never made the photos—
those quiet pauses between the laughter
where lives still happened,
where hearts still beat.
To the button barely hanging on,
the chipped cup at the back of the cupboard
that still cradles the warmth of tea,
to the broom that sweeps the dust away
without ever asking for thanks—
I celebrate you,
the unremarkable,
the unnoticed.
To the hands that fold the napkins,
the arms that set the table
so we can sit and speak our lives aloud,
to the voice that hums a song
while dishes clatter in the sink,
filling the house with music
only the walls remember.
For every object passed by,
for the pencils worn down to stubs,
for the doormat that bears our weight,
for the faded note left on the fridge,
for all the things that hold us
without ever holding our gaze—
I lift my voice to you.
And to the faces in the background,
the ones who wait while we linger,
the quiet presence behind the curtain
that makes the lights burn bright—
you are the steady rhythm
that lets us dance,
the stillness that gives shape
to all that matters.
For everything that exists without notice,
for the pieces of life
that never demand the spotlight,
I offer this song.
You are the unsung verses
in a poem that could not be written
without you.
Day 30 prompt: Write an elegy to September Context: I did try to twist it into celebration at the end but it sounded forced and didn't flow the way I wanted so maybe read the last part in a happy voice? HOW is this the end already??
Elegy to September
The golden days of summer fade to grey,
As shadows lengthen, creeping through the trees.
The warmth of August, now so far away,
Gives way to whispers on a cooler breeze.
The leaves, once bright, now tumble to the ground,
Their colors dulled by autumn’s quiet hand.
The air grows crisp, and silence wraps around,
A prelude to the frost that claims the land.
The sun sinks lower, slower in the sky,
Its fading light a memory of fire.
And though the world prepares to say goodbye,
September lingers, filled with soft desire.
With every shiver, every falling leaf,
The echoes of the summer still remain.
But in the chill, there stirs a quiet grief—
The winter waits beyond this fleeting strain.
Day 26
Prompt: Write an Elegy to the month.
Context: I tried the ABAB rhyme that Herb mentioned should be used, but I am not good at rhyming, it just doesn't come to me easily at all. So I have the feeling that part didn't work out, but I tried to make this reflect the month of PoCOChapMo. On a side note, I don't know how I ended up with only 26 days, where did the 4 days go?????
Starting in infancy with fear of the words not yet taught, of steps on feet never used in this world thrust upon me.
Hands guided me as my first steps were taken, words spoken with encouragement and gentle corrections given by transparent souls.
Stanzas of infinite possibility in a new world I now see, letting me move as the comfort of trying comes to me.
Haiku glide from my fingers with sonnets and tanka near, as words come with elegance and the confidence of steps I trust taught from this short life cycle.
Day 14
It wasn't my time to go,
I had so much left to grow.
A future planned, to see the land,
But fate played a different hand.
A single mistake, careless and swift,
My life was gone in a sudden drift.
Loved ones left to question why—
Too young, too soon, for me to die.
It feels like yesterday, yet years have flown,
Seasons passed, though I remain alone.
As dawn returns, I greet the sky,
But trapped here still, I wonder why.
The walls meant to hold me have crumbled away,
Returning to nature, no story to stay.
If I am forgotten, am I set free?
To pass to paradise, at peace I'll be.
Unfinished business now fades from view,
Nothing remains for me to do.
Goodbye, old haunt—I'll find the light,
As colors fade and all turns white.
Revision/little tweak/tweaking rounding out skeleton
Day 23
C.L.A.S
Finding Her Way Back Home
Winds spinning confusing seasons
enticing shadowed back roads
winding offbeat tracks
lacking guiding, grounding principles
My eyes
looking down puddles reflecting
foggy impression of what I should be
Holding tight
torrential flash downpour
spring last night
Summers burning hotter
perfect shade welcoming
reminiscing, laughter
Rich flamboyant erotic reds wanting to come
muted orange hues entice internal spice
yet, vibrant shocking mellowed yellow
soothe my overthinking mind
Full circle round
allowing us to cuddle tight
hibernate together all winter found.
Day 27 blank verse Power
I plant my self in soil so deep with love
In darkness I shall grow beyond your ken
And ripen into me alone once more
Until I blaze into the dawn of day
Expand beyond all hope and trepidation
Oh fear not growth nor healing pains to come
For once the sun hits gentle leaves with light
I will spread wings of powerful creation
And take flight
Ghazal This has been difficult what do you think? How can I make this work? Loss Hollow tree hit by a lightning bolt
Grief strangles me in his hold
You fell like a leaf in autumn
You would you have been told
And yet you could not change
Striding forward oh so bold
Now we sit in sorrow alone
Loss is always dark and cold
Day 26 prompt: Write a ghazal. What is something or someone you long for, and how does that longing shape your experience or perspective?
Context: I was struggling to write something that I didn’t find completely cringe, for some reason. Everything I was writing felt like someone making fun of people in love or one of those “eat, pray, love” mass produced signs you can find at Target. Then we found out that there are two mice who took shelter in a cupboard in my dad’s house (he lives near the country and the temperatures dropped quite significantly, and that’s where he keeps dry food for the dogs). We’re arranging the logistics to capture them and then release them in the right spot, but in the meanwhile we placed a webcam to make sure it was indeed mice we were dealing with, so now we have out personal "rat cam" and I also busted both my dad and my husband leaving food for the mice each night because “they’re guests until we catch them”.
Anyway, here’s a ghazal from the point of view of a house mouse.
Curled in a Paper Box
I gather the crumbs while you sleep through the night,
The cat’s eyes are watching, but I keep through the night.
The wind hums of winter, the cold on its way,
Yet I dream of warmth, how we creep through the night.
For you, I scavenge, steps heavy with fear,
But love knows no rest when I leap through the night.
Curled in the box where the paper smells sweet,
Heaven is ours, the dark sweeps through the night.
Your breath, it is soft, and your whiskers like silk,
I stay near your side, though I weep through the night.
No corner is safe, but your touch makes me bold,
Danger and love both run deep through the night.
My beloved, I wander in shadows alone,
But find peace in the warmth that we keep through the night.
The first hot weekend of spring we took the kids put to the park today. I jotted down these five senryu
many monsters
clamber over colored
metal and plastic
green ribbed beast
drapped in ropey sinue
over which kids climb
sky to ground
with slantways speed
children slide to earth
with pendulum ease
and a kick of legs
her swing reaches space
water splashes out
with every fountain drink
making small rainbows
Day 23
Prompt: Write around the theme of home. This could take the path of arriving home after a physical trip or arriving at a place in your mind that feels 'right' - you are where you belong.
Title: Hidden Words
In expectations of life
not all words exist
hiding knowing from my soul.
Existence in nonexistence
in the words unsaid
to erase what has always been.
You try to hide me
hide my people
by hiding the words of existence.
I still move forward
strength build carrying the weight
of our expectations.
Without words
I found the path forward
through your minefields and attacks.
With scared fingers
we dig ourselves to the surface
after you buried us.
In your hiding us
we found ourselves
in those hidden before us.
You made us strong
when you pushed us together
we found community.
I have learned
your hidden words
I speak them loud with my people.
Those that come
next into this world
will hear the words I speak.
Context: This one took a bit of thinking, and I realized I needed to be a little more broad. I wanted to write about not knowing that the word "Non-Binary" even existed for most of my life, and the incredible change in my life, the feeling home when I found and spoke it.
Prompt 15. Rewrite
I haven't wrote poetry since I was about 15/16 so those old ones are lost to time. Nothing of my own to rewrite! I chose to rewrite a song. If you saw my talk at Keele this was one of those songs. I will give a warning...this is a heavy one. I don't feel everything in this song NOW(thank you therapy!) but they are feelings I've felt at points in my life. The song is: I’d Rather Overdose by HONESTAV and Z
Can't let you go. I've tried because I want to grow. You were never one to hold me close. I've always wanted your time. You've always been on the path to overdose.
I know that you could hear me cry. You didn't try to comfort and I don't know why. Cried till my eyes ran dry. You were too busy getting high.
Can't let you go. Tried because I want to grow. You're never been one to hold me close. I've always wanted your time. You've always been on the path overdose.
I can't slow down. Don't know how.
I'm going to do it all somehow.
fill the walls with accolades that are worthless.
I'm supposed to feel accomplished but it just causes stress.
Here I am still a mess up.
I want your praise though I'm grown up.
Can't let you go. I tried because I want to grow. You've never been one to hold me close. I've always wanted your time. You've always been on a path to overdose.
Sometimes I wonder if you hate me. Sometimes I hate me too. All I've ever wanted was to be loved by you. All the things I went through. Take care of it myself is what I had to do .
Can't let you go. I've tried because I want to grow. You've never been one to hold me close. I've always wanted your time. You've always been on a path to overdose.
I hold on cuz I know one day you will pass away. But I'll still see you every time I see my own face. I wish our home had been a happy place. I'll grieve but not ready to say goodbye today.
Day 25 Home
Everything in its place, neat as a pin,
A life of order where no chaos creeps in.
But where's the room to dream, to be free,
In a space that's too perfect, too planned to be me?
Messy and wild, laughter fills the air,
But rules are scarce, and structure is rare.
Fun for a time, but soon comes the cost—
Insecurity whispers when boundaries are lost.
Building a home doesn't come with a guide,
It's a dance between freedom and rules, side by side.
Nurturing children with love and a plan,
To grow into adults who stand strong, as they can.
Admittedly not my favorite.
Da y 17 fun limerick
Heather
A girl named heather
Head so in the clouds, she could predict the weather!
She loved to day dream
but sometimes she would scheme
of chasing birds to collect fallen feathers!
(the only other word that really rhymes with heather not included above is leather...and that would have made this a whole different type of poem! LOL )
Day 24 prompt: Fog. Consider themes of life change or mystery. This might be the beginning of a ride with the dark forces of the Fog.
Context: Many ancient cultures collected water from fog by placing large pots under trees and shrubs. As the water from fog collected on these objects, the pots collected the water. Today, engineers have developed “fog catchers”, basically very large screens constructed in arid areas. As fog glides in, water droplets form around the thin screens and drip to the collection pools below. It's not super effective and only works in small areas, but it sparked an idea. I wanted the poem to be about the fog as a metaphor for the unknown and the imagery of the fog catcher as a way to try to gather information out of nothing. The need to make something solid out of something we can’t hold.
Fog catchers
We build frames in the mist,
thin, trembling screens
to catch what drifts unseen.
The fog rolls in—
silent, indifferent,
and we stand there waiting,
arms outstretched,
hoping to hold something
that slips through fingers like breath.
There is no rain,
no steady downpour,
just the weight of what isn’t,
the grey space between knowing and nothing.
We place our nets in the unknown,
expecting answers to gather,
to form droplets we can drink,
but all we hold is a faint dampness,
a trace of what we never had.
How much of ourselves
do we give away in the waiting?
How many questions rise like fog,
dissipating before we can speak them aloud?
Yet still we wait,
our nets straining against the void,
catching only shadows,
each droplet a whisper
of what was never there.
Day 12 lost
A bit of terror is creeping in.
I fear Iay be lost.
It is cold and damp.
The ground is covered in frost.
The snow is starting to fall
The sun sets and it fades to night
I look upwards and say I'm can't do this on my own
And just like that, in the distance I see a light.
They come closer lantern aglow.
They say sometimes all you need to do is pray.
I just here to walk beside you.
You know the way.
We walk a bit and crest a hill.
Houses with heaths welcoming and warm.
It was so close but felt so far.
I am safe now from the storm.
Prompt 11 Lake haiku
The water laps the shore
Rhythmic bliss and soul southing
I come here to dream
Day 24
Prompt: Mysterious fog
Context: Foggy weather is one of my favorite things - driving in really dense fog, less so... but even that can be an adventure sometimes. Anyway, today's prompt got me thinking back to a time I went to visit the ruins of Sutro Baths (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sutro_Baths) (it's one of my favorite places - I've been there many many times) on a foggy afternoon here in San Francisco and found myself slightly spooked by how foggy it was there that day.
I know I stuck to something that rhymed for the 1st and 3rd stanzas but not the second... is that terribly annoying to read? Rewrite it? Scrap a stanza? Just keep one and try again?
Poem:
Foreboding Fog
Inch by inch the world unfolds before me,
Apparitions in the mist made clear,
Figures floating by and fading just as quickly.
Impossible sounds from nowhere echo in my ears.
This place I know so well, now unfamiliar.
Amplified by the ambivalence of direction,
Waves crash too close for comfort.
Apprehensive of this mist, I retreat.
I scurry up the steps that appear before me,
Unexpectedly unsettled being here.
I return my gaze over that which is memory,
Eyes wide open, I watch it all disappear.
Autumn Photo Prompt
Background: For me autumn is the season of letting go or revisiting and checking what doesn't serve me any more going forward. No need to take decaying leaves into the stasis of winter's clean air.
**Autumn Path**
I shudder mirroring the trees surrounding
Autumn wind has rattled us
I envy you oh sister elm and brother maple
Oh how you can just let them go
Let go of leaves not needed
Like unwanted thoughts tumbling down
Transubstantiation
from unwanted organic matter to nourishment
Oh how I wish I could just shed my leaves
Let go Let go Let go of decaying matter
Deconstruct myself burn like a phoenix
And rise anew cleansed and stronger
I kick a pile of leaves resentful
Autumn the time for shadow work
Harrumph I snort unladylike
Mum wouldn’t be impressed
I really do not want to follow that path
Winding underneath the shadowy trees
Who knows where this leads me
Into depths unknown
A crow caws
Then two then three and suddenly the whole murder takes flight
The rookery above me growing silent once more
I shiver
As tendrils of darkness begin to unwind
Here we go again
Day 23:
To me this autumn/fall feels as if all seasons are rolled into one. Since early spring, it’s been raining raining raining raining. The leaves on the trees/grass are still thriving different tones of lush green. Though, the chill is biting a little harder these days.
Monday, September 23, 2024
8:29 AM
C.L.A.S
Finding Her Way Back Home
Winding, offbeat road back to you
my eye, me
winds spinning seasons
Holding tight
torrential flash downpour
spring last night
Summers burning hotter
perfect shade welcoming
reminiscing, laughter
Rich flamboyant erotic reds wanting to come
muted orange hues entice internal spice
yet, vibrant shocking mellowed yellow
soothe my overthinking mind
Full circle round
allowing us to snuggle/cuddle
hibernate together all winter found.
Day: 21
Prompt: Let this image (path through a forest) of a winding path through an autumn forest inspire your poem. Consider themes of change, transition, or journey. Where does the path lead, and what does it symbolise for you? How do the falling leaves and shifting colours reflect your own personal journey?
Context: I'm in Kansas, USA and it gets very gray and dead feeling as the trees lose their leaves. The grasses have long lost their color at this point, so it doesn't take long before it feels quite lifeless.
Light shines where shadow once lay.
Plants suffocate under the soil of seasons to come.
Life crawls into hiding as cruel cold comes to power.
The void of life envelopes the now colorless forest as I walk.
Steps once silently soft with life, now loud with dry leaves.
Sounds once hushed now echo throughout the bare trees with the voice of loneliness.
The forest is one full of the dead.
As I walk through the forest hope guides me.
Hope that spring's warm breath will once again breathe color into this gray world.
Today when work became quiet I went for a jaunt. Or at least that is what I am calling them; Jaunts, because they were a journey to make. Still with the ballad rhyme scheme in my head, and the refrained words from sestinas, I came up with a small form to challenge myself.
Jaunts;
ABCB DD rhyme, also rhyming the B with the title
Line ones last word becomes line threes first word
Line threes last word becomes line fives first word
Anything else is up to the author.
Here are the three examples I wrote today. I may have cheated a little with a homophone in the third.
=o=
To beach buzzards give heed
Seagulls circle above when weather is hot.
Swarming over those with a takeout feed.
Hot chips thrown from within grease paper,
an offering to meet starved beasts greed.
Paper planes rain down pelting the sand
in search of scraps left behind on dry land.
=o=
My Health Campaign
I started on a new diet today.
Well, it is the same diet again.
Today it will work, I will stick to it.
I know I can learn how to abstain.
It has to succeed, I have to try
to stick to it, or to life say goodbye.
=o=
With morning light you depart
I hunger for your scent left upon my blankets.
Our night together, a reunion of bodies apart.
Blankets of sweat cling on like a musky mist.
On waking an absence of my stolen heart.
Missed you I have since the sun broke in
waking me up alone in this holiday inn.
Day 22
Context: My brain was absolutely swirling with things I thought I wanted to write about when I got home late last night... but then when it came time to write today, they didn't come out. However; along the way I did start thinking about other little moments in time where I found myself present with my contentment... and ultimately decided to write some Haiku for some of the moments - one of which was from a visit to a friend I haven't thought about in ages. Some are more successful than others... still figuring out how/if I want to include some of the Haiku from this month in the chapbook (that I am pretty sure I really truly I am going to put together).
Poem(s):
Lying still, eyes closed,
Tucked neath the grand piano.
Sounds swirl overhead.
Cracked open again.
Feeling clearer than before,
I feel my heart beat.
Heartbeat in my ears,
Breaths rise and fall together.
I drift off to sleep.
Unassuming chair,
Light peeks through stained glass window,
I am happy here
Driving in darkness,
The road stretches before me.
I will see you soon.
The tears flow freely,
As we can’t stop the laughter,
My god… I can’t breathe.
Canal boat to where?
We haven’t bothered to check,
Too late now. Let’s go!
This is a very rough first draft/mind dump. It will be twice this long but I wanted to share how far I got thus far. Spawned from this mornings live stream, this poem is dedicated to @nicki, A long time member of the Cove and someone who always brings warmth and humour to the Sunday streams. Thanks for the inspiration.
Letter Lock - Untitled For Nicki WIP
In an era before emails and digital convenience
When contacting someone was held heartfelt
by the action and effort it took to send ones words
long distance To stroke upon the emotions
And Warm the hearts of recipients
Mail was the king of communication
Queen Elizabeth The first Kept her secrets well
Within pages of parchment with ink and quill
Romancing of Robert, declarations of war
Letters of state, Messages to her cousin
with Letter locks Her Secrets she kept secure
intricate folded paper slotted and
A measure of secure keeping thoughts
Hidden away and private
After you left me in pieces I picked up the pieces
Staples and duct tape holding together my heart
In a misshapen form the closest I could remember
To that shape it was before you clawed it apart
I coated it in tissue paper, gently put it in an envelope
And posted my own heart back to myself with a note
sealed up with an origami letter lock to keep others
From breaking the seal and shattering it again
Day 20 Sunset as Ending and Beginning Context I wanted to step away from the traditional considerations around sunset and tell a story
Darkness announces herself in glamorous colours.
Before her raven wings embrace the dying day.
She tears the sky asunder with blood and fire,
Unleashed across the horizon.
Let go now, child. Let go!
Throw your woes into the burning embers!
And wear the coat of starlight.
Black silk gentle on your skin.
Nyx will hold you until you are ready to rise.
Once more.
Day 18
Prompt: Double Etheree and I forgot to took note but believe the theme was transition.
Context For some reasons most of the poems that emerged from the writing prompts for me are heavily related to seasons and seasonal imagery. I am wondering if this is because it is autumn and one of my favourite times of the year. I am not entirely sure I understood the concept of Double Etheree accurately. Here is my first ever (lots of first evers I am completely stuck on the Limerick not sure if this is because I am not a native English speaker but so far I have not managed to write one, they are the most challenging form for me so far)
1 Hark!
2 Harvest
3 Moon rises
4 luminating
5 Velvet Purple clouds
6 A corona of light
7 Striation of gold and plum
8 A howl breaks through the silent night
9 slowly the days grow ever shorter
10 until midwinter beast swallows the sun
10 rising again reborn the next morning
9 cold white light’s first tentative tendrils
8 break through the frozen snow filled air
7 ptarmigan darts across white hills
6 snow hare digs for greens
5 fox stalks hopefully
4 through drifts too high
3 jaybird warns
2 loudly
1 hark!
Prompt: Wildcard Weekend
Context: I would like to take the opportunity of this “open” prompt to share the experience of how something I write goes from “poem” to song. I never expect something I write would or could become a song. Just like I never expected my writing would ever be called “poems” ☺️
“Poem” was written in 2018 when I lost my service dog Mia. She was an amazing companion who went from rescued bait dog to becoming a detector of seizures, navigator of the visually impaired, and caretaker to a brain injury survivor. She even became an active actor appearing in commercials and TV shows. I attribute my survival to her.
Goodbye (Original Version)
2018 - By Katherine Dickson
No one gives a book to learn
On how to heal a broken heart
I’ve only got the years I’ve earned
Loving you from the start
No one ever gives away
Gratitude like a stray
All these years, you’ve guided me through
Now’s my turn to help you too
I wish that I had given more
If the score was kept, I’d surely lose
Your love for me I could plainly see
And I wish I had given more
You always stood by me
Gentle and trustworthy
Rest assured your job is well done
Lay your head down go to sleep
All your worries are long gone
Take me with you in your dreams
Where do I go, where do I seek?
Who’ll be my major company?
Goodbye Song ( Version Two)
Words & Music – Katherine Dickson
Time Signature: Music composed in 3/4 (''three four'') time signature
No one gives a book to learn
On how to heal a broken heart
I’ve only got the years I’ve earned
Loving you from the start
No one ever gives away
Gratitude like a stray
All these years, you’ve guided me through
Now’s my turn to help you too (leave)
I wish that I had given more
If the score was kept, I’d surely lose (In love it’s an un-even score)
You(r) (were never one to let me down) love for me I could plainly see
And I wish I had given more
You always stood next to me
Gentle and trustworthy
(You were never one to let me down)
Rest assured your job is well done
Lay your head down go to sleep
All your worries are long gone
Take me with you in your dreams
Where do I go, where do I seek?
Who’ll be my major company?
Goodbye Song (All Is Quiet)
Final Recorded Version
Words & Music – Katherine Dickson
Music - Katherine Dickson, Briana Bradley & Phil Carroll
{Verse 1 }
No one gives a book to learn
On how to heal a broken heart
I’ve only got the years I’ve earned
Loving you from the start
No one ever gives away
Gratitude like a stray
All these years, you’ve guided me
Now’s my turn to help you leave
{Chorus}
I wish that I had given more
In love it’s an un-even score
Your love for me I could plainly see
I wish that I had given more
{Verse 2}
Rest assured your job is well done
Lay your head go to sleep
All your worries are long gone
Take me in your dreams
{Chorus}
I wish I had given more
In love it’s an un-even score
Your love for me I could plainly see
I wish that I had given more
{Bridge}
You never let me down
No better friend have I found
You always stood next to me
Gentle and trustworthy
{Coda}
(And) I wish I had given more
But love’s an un-even score
Your love for me I could plainly see
{Chorus}
I wish that I had given more
I wish that I had given you more
Here you can take a listen to the final results. ☺️
https://open.spotify.com/track/10D0MeqEuQkvQolsZy5exP?si=Fcah_NwrSnmqul1i6ZUgVw
Promt 6: borrow a line from Shakespeare
Love All, Trust Few, Do Wrong to None
Love freely, like the sun at dawn,
Spreading light, until all shadows are gone.
Every soul deserves dignity and respect
In giving make sure your own needs you do not neglect.
Trust with care, but not with ease,
For secrets are fragile, like autumn leaves.
Give your trust where it is earned,
Because betrayal is a hard lesson learned.
Do no harm with hand or word,
You can be gaurdeed and gracious without lines being blurred.
Embracing you fellow man for exactly who they are
Doesn't mean you have to let them wound you leaving a scar.
In this world of joy and pain,
Hold hands with other, but follow you own intuition as you walk down the lane.
Love all, trust few, wrong none—
And peace will follow when the day is done.
I'm not crazy about the scar line.
Promt 8: memento mori
The Rainbow Child**
Young and sweet, with so much to give, so free.
You loved a dangerous man, happiness was not to be.
Pain struck like a ton of bricks—
Your heart, shattered, never fixed.
A part of you was lost with him when your said goodbye.
Your child wasn’t supposed to die.
You buried your grief, grew a family tree.
The weight of expectation fell to me.
The eldest child, meant to atone,
For the loss you carried like a stone.
But in my heart, a question creeps
If he had lived, would I exist, the answer cuts deep.
The weight of his legacy I bear,
Longing for a mother without despair.
A bullet hides in a whiskey glass,
The ghost of him Im unable to pass.
I miss a brother I’ve never known.
I visit sometimes standing by his headstone.
I ask you instead of this the slow death,
That you'd fight to live til your last breath.
Often I think of what might have been with him here, a reality only dreamed, never known.
I’m the lucky one, alive and grown,
I never met ideals held for two, too different, too sensitive,too weird, and too wild,
But I’m yours—your rainbow child.
This is really nice. I can totally feel your reluctance at wanting to get up, being rowsed by your phone and then the light. Lovely depictions!
Wow. This is raw and deep. Thank you for sharing. Your choice of words unpack such clear and powerful imagery. 👏🏼👏🏼
Day 19 prompt: Threshold.
Context: So apparently I do write about love and apparently I wasn’t done with waves imagery. For some reason I wanted to write about the space between two people when they start to become a couple and blur the boundaries.This was written on my phone during a 3 hours car drive after a photoshoot in Milan and tweaked a little bit this morning over breakfast. Still needs some sanding around the edges, but oh well. I wish I had more time to go over other people's poems and interact in the forum, but I'm hoping for the weekend.
Seamless
There was a line, once,
where I ended and you began—
a boundary,
a flicker, a seam,
a ripple between us
thin as breath,
like the edge of dusk
blurring into night.
I stood at the threshold of us,
unsure whether to cross.
Somewhere, without warning,
the line vanished.
Your breath became the air I breathe,
your skin, the map
of my own hands.
There is no shape to this,
no edge to step from.
We are the hum of overlapping sounds,
a rhythm stitched into silence.
I lose myself in the way
your shadow bends into mine,
how the air between us
becomes a single exhale.
Where do you begin?
Where did I fade?
Limerence,
liminal,
the place we inhabit now,
where the distance no longer matters,
where the pull is not a choice
but gravity—
where we are less two people
and more one movement,
a wave curling onto itself,
rolling and dissolving
against the shore.
Caught in the slipstream
of wanting and being wanted,
in the weightlessness
of never knowing
where you end
and I begin.
The horizon shifts and folds—
and I am neither wave nor water,
but the tide
that forgets its own name.
The Etheree and Concrete poems in one, still working on the shape of an hourglass. A small nod to Neil Gaimen slotted in there also.
And in plain text if harder to read
Death Waits Alone
Of all the gods Death is the least patient
She keeps perfect time, is never late
This is why her hair is a mess
With caring smile she waits
Ready to aid you on your
journey past this life
Ready or not
She will take
You there
Death
Waits
Alone
Be ready
Live a full life
As when she comes by
You won't have time to pack
The road might seem far to go
the final stop is not distant
She will help you walk over that bridge
It is only six feet below the ground
By Stevenson M.D.
Day 19
Prompt; threshold.
Causality.
We’re led to believe that the pinnacle
Of our existence is to plane upon the swells of eliteness.
Hear me listen.
Countless minds have been manipulated
Into believing that a chiseled out
Physical presence should far-out match
the common societal threshold of expectations.
Countless have become imprisoned
Laboring no longer for pleasure but unwholesome pressure to attain the unattainable.
All whilst the media laugh - secretly using prosthetics to trick you blind,
Into thinking that you’re the one in dire need.
-Riku
Messing about with a slam style here. 🤔🤣
Just a thing I threw out taking a break mid way through another poem I was struggling with.
Life Always Finds A Way To Grow
Every great city began as a humble town.
Small buildings neatly placed side by side
growing in stories as more space is needed,
over time replaced with grand structures.
This evolution of urban development
mimics the landscape of my kitchen benches.
A small lunch, one plate and a butter knife,
add dinner that night, cooked late after work.
Too tired to clean, they can wait till morning.
Soon the rack mounted ziggurat dominates.
Day turns to a week, week into fortnight,
soon the city has become a megalopolis.
Day 19
Word Prompt: "Threshold"
Oh, what is your threshold?
Your redline?
The point of no return?
That first and final step from control to fate?
At what point did you pull the linchpin?
Staring up at the skies to see if you will be born anew or cast into Hell.
But if you had known…
If you knew exactly when you would cross the threshold, would you have taken that step?
Day 18
Prompt: Write a Double Etheree: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 syllables; or the reverse.
Context: I didn't do the repetition part. I was short on time, and I am not good at things like that. more than that, I don't like it; it's a personal feeling about. But I did get the Etheree done, and I don't think it's too bad.
Title: Because of You
You.
Because.
Before now.
Fear didn't come.
Life was easy then.
Now you lie against me.
You make me want to cause pain.
Tense with fear of what I am now.
A monster crawls slow under my skin.
Your heat on my skin makes me want to kill.
I had no fear before your love found me.
Fear comes while you sleep in this dark world.
True love made a monster of me.
I'm here for you, to love you.
One soul in two bodies.
Time silent hunter.
Hunter unseen.
Fear persists.
I love.
You.
Day 17
Prompt: Write a limerick or a few
Context (in poem form 😜):
Today’s task was to write a limerick or two,
And that is something I think I can definitely do,
So here we go,
The poems are below,
For feedback provided by you!
Poems:
So I sat and I sat and I sat,
Wondering where my muse was at,
This was supposed to be easy,
It could even be cheesy,
Now I need a last line… Oh! A cat!
The dogs on the beach were at play,
As she sat on the wall all in gray.
She giggled out loud,
Dressed like a little rain cloud,
And watched the sun say goodbye to the day.
“Beg your pardon,” the shadows have said,
“If we’ve upset you, that fills us with dread.
Soon all will be well,
You just napped for a spell,
I promise it was all in your head”
There once was a wizard so wily,
Fooling all he knew, so slyly,
‘til a house crashed down,
Time to get out of town,
So in a balloon he flew off so spryly.
Day 16
Form Prompt: Sestina
Prompt: Write a sestina, a 39-line poem consisting of six stanzas of six lines each, followed by a three-line envoi. The same six words are repeated at the end of each line in a rotating pattern. Use this complex form to explore a theme of cycles—whether it’s the cycles of nature, emotions, or experiences in life. Let the repetition of words mirror the repetitive patterns we see in our world.
Context: Let's be honest, this was 100% about following the form prompt with no regard towards the poem itself. That being said, I feel like I could write a Sestina again and do much better (If I had time). They are not as hard as they seem at first, and the unlimited line length makes them easier (for me) than something like a tanka. I also feel like I could have written something less dark, and it might have been easier. After starting this, I felt like I didn't have enough story to cover it, but that's what you get when you don't plan ahead at all and start writing a few minutes after reading the prompt.
1:
1 It all repeats through history, like the circle of life, but few seem to see.
2 Blind by choice, not even willing to try.
3 Until it is their turn. Then they see it, like the point of a needle placed against the eye, too late. It's happening again.
4 The past is easy to see while it is close, but time makes it grow foggy, romanticization painting its beauty over the truth as time moves forward.
5 The world spins as though nothing is wrong. Nothing has changed, as the cosmos knows no surprise.
6 But we are not so lucky. As this circle continues, we are only out-of-place things upon this world.
2:
1 There is always a way, always some path forward.
2 Even through the fog and romanticization of time, the truth is there; if one tries, they can see.
3 If you look, eyes open to the repeating circle, you will be struck down by your past with surprise.
4 For only then will you have the true choice to know or forget, to see your chance to try.
5 With the truth in hand, paths will be seen through the world.
6 The circle will never stop. It will repeat again and again.
3:
1 Paths chosen, eyes open to truth, but with time, history repeats again.
2 Fights don't stop with progression towards something new; bloodied and broken is the way forward.
3 With blade and bow, we beat the drums of war for a better world.
4 Through the reddened waters and smoke of death, visions come, and we see.
5 This is when change, the new world comes, and death comes as they try.
6 The circle repeats, and it comes as the people look at the presents of their past in surprise.
4:
1 Every generation circles back to history, and when it comes, every generation stares in surprise.
2 Every time things come around the same hollowed words ring out of, "never again."
3 As fresh eyes look across the world with repeated new sight and power presents itself, those hungry for it once again try.
4 Normal life continues as the circling fog floats in with the new day. Self-bloodied eyes happily look forward.
5 Life is once again beautiful and peaceful as dead eyes no longer see.
6 Walking the circle's path, soft with the rot that can't be seen in a peaceful world.
5:
1 Life continues, trees grow, animals evolve, rain comes, life moves within the world.
2 Things move on outside of the human circle without false surprise.
3 Outside the circle, the world looks into the repeat as they see.
4 The trees, flowers, and grass look on as they have for centuries as it happens again.
5 The bats, birds, and moths look down at the circle like a maze, seeing the simple way forward.
6 The world moves around us, the circle our cage as we try.
6:
1 No matter the circle and the outcome, some will always try.
2 With the repeat of all things there is something holding our unnatural existence to this world.
3 Through black and death, even blind, the desire is always forward.
4 The persistence of life through the circle is always a surprise.
5 As the circle continues, some ask if there will ever be a true "never again."
6 Sacrifices of your own flesh for the change to help others see.
7:
1: If you look on without surprise, you might not circle again.
2: To be part of the world and feel the ground as you move forward.
3: With the birds you see and the trees, there is hope to try.
Playing catch up with the prompts. Here I combined three prompts in the hopes to gain momentum. 🌼 🤭
Prompts: 1. Abandoned - Abandoned house in rural hamlet 2. Use lines from Shakespeare. 3. Ghosts of Broughton
Whispers In The Mist
By Katherine Dickson
A house stands hollow, deep in the woods,
In a town where once Broughton stood.
Now nature grips hold tight and deep,
Where ghosts in shadows like to creep.
The watch dogs barks through misty air,
Guardians of nothing, no souls left to care.
The lake nearby, a mirror gray,
Hides whispers of those long swept away.
"Out, damn spot, out! I say!"
Echoes from graves where silence lay.
Pity the world that has turned its face,
From this town overtaken, lost in grace.
Graves overgrown, no names to call,
As ivy climb crumbling wall.
The mist rolls in, thick as night,
Covering Broughton in ghostly light.
Revision/day14
C.L.A.S
Bitten Down Words
Annabella,
Out, on a hunt
vulnerable bare open
swimming wanderer through wind chimed wildflowers
bow stalking cute tiny native strawberries bursts
far distance handsome young man approaching her
shy eyes meeting for the first time
instantly remembering one another
kindred unknown lovers
Annie adored her vintage cast-iron fire stove
boiling down fierce strawberries, tart rhubarb dashes of sugar, and zesty lemon
stirring
mixing
reminiscing
when he used to call her, my strawberry girl
packing a pixie picnic
found walking solace at dusk
following raindrop birds
foggy cold breeze singing with her
to the old forsaken coal mine
mist rolling musk smelling her hair
long walks through burned hopes
aspirations disintegrated a prosperous future
rumbling ruins, deserted mossy graves
she sat pondering existence
why Why why!
frontier coal mine explosion
robbed me of your beating heart
my sweet forever love Fyodor
lost lovers dreaming
secret evenings viewing numb
fearful void forethought
Anna smiled happiness, now in her own playground
dancing Annabella with her whimsical ghost
Anna – Annabella was found in abandonment from her magnificently ruined Fyodor.
Day 15 prompt: Rewrite an old poem, or reinterpret an old piece of art you’ve created.
Context: I decided to write a poem about a photo: the image was buried under a tree for 6 weeks in order to allow the bacteria in the soil to start breaking down the ink and shift the colors. The original photo is a very simple portrait of a mask and outfit I made using what was left from last year’s exhibition that was set up near the same tree the print was buried under. The whole idea is about the way time changes things, how everything that’s new comes from fragments of something else.
Quello che resta
The fallen leaf surrenders to the soil,
Crumbles into earth,
feeds the seeds
Of trees it never climbed.
The sky takes the sea into itself,
Breathes out clouds
that drift
and weep,
Returning in droplets what was borrowed.
A whisper travels through the air,
Carried across valleys, over mountains,
Until it settles in a stranger's dream.
We are remnants,
Pieces of stars, dust of ancient suns,
Stories whispered by ancestors
We've never known.
Blurred boundaries
like watercolor on wet paper,
The edges of dusk and dawn,
Where does the ocean end and the horizon begin?
Your laughter becomes my smile,
We are threads
woven into the same tapestry.
In every ending, a beginning—
A seed beneath winter's snow,
Waiting for the warmth of spring.
The melancholy of passing
Carries the hope of becoming.
Floating in flux,
Fragments carried on the winds of change,
Transforming, eternal.
Day 14 prompt: "Ghosts of Broughton"
Context: I adore abandoned places and one of my long term projects is about the boundaries between human spaces and nature. This was a fun one. I wrote it yesterday and planned to post it before dinner, but “Man Plans”, and God Laughs, I guess. I was quite literal with the prompt because yesterday was a monster of a day.
Ghosts of Broughton
I tread the silent paths where streets once lay,
Broughton's bones beneath a canopy of green.
The forest whispers secrets of the day
When life here thrived with all its hopeful schemes.
The mist rolls in from lakes of silver hue,
A shroud that wraps the remnants of the past.
I feel the miners' toil, the soldiers too,
Their shadows in the fog are vaguely cast.
Ambition built these walls of stone and brick,
Raised towers high to touch the passing clouds.
Yet time's embrace is firm, its fingers quick,
Now ivy climbs where once were bustling crowds.
The echoes of their voices ride the breeze,
A chorus of the lost, the left behind.
The leaves applaud with rustling of the trees,
As nature takes all with its hands entwined.
The ghosts of Broughton wander through the glade,
Their footsteps fade into the mossy ground.
In nature's court, all monuments will fade,
Yet in this fading, new beginnings found.
Saturday, September 14, 2024
Day 14 prompt: Ghosts of Broughton crumbling ruins
On yesterday‘s call, we talked about this prompt. Saying how I initially became extremely literal going into full details of the history/the mighty nature taking over.
Sleepless nights and a full day/today. short and sweet record playing of a memory.
C.L.A.S
Bitten Down Words
Annabella,
Sick of a lonely world full of vacant passing faces
missing her sweet Fyodor
Annie adored her vintage cast-iron fire stove
boiling down strawberries mixing in
tart rhubarb with a little sugar and some zesty lemon
jam
packing a pixie picnic
fresh from her garden
found walking comfort at dusk
cold breeze singing with her
following raindrop chirping birds
to the old forsaken coal mine
foggy rolling musk smelling her hair
Long walks through burned hopes
aspirations for a prospering future
rumbling ruins, deserted mossy graveyard
where she sat pondering existence
talking with her love Fyodor’s ghost
lost lovers dreaming
secret evenings numb viewing
void fearful forethought
Anna smiled happiness, now in her own playground
dancing Annabella with her forgotten whimsical ghosts
hopscotch twirling between pathetically invading baby spruce, weeds weeping around triumphant graves
Anna – Annabella was found in abandonment from her magnificently ruined Fyodor.
Day 12 The image of the lantern
Context I could not really think of any guidance themes so this is still super drafty mcdraft-face Ancestors
ancestral light my inner guide
during long dark nights
I feel my roots rhizomic shoots
to anchor me during fright
and yet not all that double helix
carries light within its rungs
strung between some of the rails
are chains of darkness's grip
and string of pain and grief and shame
A fragile ladder of despair
I am of your blood and your blood is mine
Yet I won’t continue that path of pain
I move beyond the string of darkest nights
and bring forth the strength of roots
I know my place and hold it tight
not follow you into the night
That night of pain so raw
I walk along the winding roots
Until a node I reach and kick
To test if rot is at its core
And suddenly forth bursts the light
So blindingly and bright
I have now walked beyond
Beyond the blood and blight
Bring forth bring forth the light
Still struggling to keep up at the moment
Day 14 The Old Graveyard Prompt
Context There was a Scottish Minister Robert Kirk who wrote a compendium (name the same as the title of my poem) about fairies, like a naturalist would classify animal or plant species. He was known for conversing with the folk and his empty grave as he is told to have gone to Fairy Land upon his death, is found in the old graveyard behind his former kirk. The Fairy Hill rises behind and when you walk up you can see all the presents given to the fairies, ribbons and trinkets, unfortunately people used so many plastic trinkets and ribbons the rangers had to clear them to protect local wildlife.
## The Secret Common-Wealth
Stumps of stone-teeth
A collection of askew memories
The only living beings
Historians and genealogist
Generations grow and die
Chewing time as centuries go by
Whistling a melancholic song Through its tooth gapped mouth
And here it is—a granite box
The only visitor a night-time fox
They say his body disappeared
Away! Away with the fairies
The wooded hill rising behind
the trees encased in ribbons bright
He knew the fair folk behind his kirk
Went through the curtain—leaving his work
Prompt 5. I misunderstood the prompt and thought I just had to write a Acrostic poem. It wasn't until I read it again that I noted the word was predetermined...so here is my original word. I may come back and write one for the actual prompt!
Radiant color from above
A reprieve from drizzle and the dark.
Iridescent beams across the sky.
No shadow of gloom can remain.
Bringing Joy after a long hard rain.
Only staying a short while.
When I find I need a sign that all is going to be fine your colors paint the scene.
I dont like the last word and could use help there in addition to general help.
Prompt 4 love transformed a difficult situation
(no title...I could use help with that)
For most of my life I have felt quite solitary and alone.
The sound of laughter of others to my ears, the wind had blown
A hand extended, kind words, and invitation to play
A bit of sunshine on a life otherwise gray
A sad child feeling alone, a simple gesture shown, friendship known.
I've been working on poems when I can steal a few minutes away. Please forgive that they are not in sync with today's prompts and that you will be getting them in bursts.
Day 1:
Start
No need to rush
pick up the brush
first attempt the hardest part
in good time you'll create good art!!