poetry critical

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Summer Came

Summer came – I felt seven again
and restless.
My lover's strong hands cleaned my wounds
and dried my tears without asking
for obligations in return.
He plucked me, wilted,
from the bathroom floor and his embrace told me
that I had nothing to fear;
scraped knees heal.
We stood side by side in the kitchen,
bathing in flour and innuendo.
He kissed me - tasting of sugar and cake batter,
and the egg I held in my hand slipped through
my fingers and cracked on the floor.
And as we kissed, he gently tucked
my hair behind my ear –
The summer breeze made him promise
he’d love me forever.

26 May 06

Rated 8.3 (8.1) by 14 users.
Active (14): 1, 1, 7, 8, 8, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10
Inactive (10): 3, 4, 5, 8, 9, 9, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10, 10

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(14 users consider this poem a favorite)

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This is so sweet!  I was cringing, I confess, waiting for an adult to do something bad to the child but this is so innocent and fresh.  Nice.
 — Isabelle5

This is lovely.  After reading this poem, my imaginary friend whispers to me, "get thee to a cabin on a lake, tom."  It is wistful, yet very imagistic at the same time.  Kudos.
I only wonder if "sexual innuendo" might not be a tad over-the-top; it is telling a bit much, and the word 'sexual' feels almost clinical here.  Do consider the strength of dropping that word, such that 10-11 read "We stood side by side in the kitchen/bathing in flour and innuendo."
Wonderful work.  Thanks,
 — mikkirat

I want to bake with this man
 — violet

control yourself, violet!
 — unknown

Cant help myself- my other job is designing wedding cakes.
I'm warming up the oven now!!!
 — violet

pretty, but the "sexual innuendo" doesn't seem to fit in. it seems too complex a statement you use, perhaps something simpler.
 — ProzacNation

thank you so much.
 — poppy_seed

beautiful! your best!  I love how the egg cracks on the floor and at the same time, he is kissing you-- so much is going on in this poem.  I love the length, the word choice, and the content.  thanks sooooo much!
 — OwlGirl

This is utterly utterly charming and such a light touch.
 — larrylark

why would you write like as if you were her?
anyway, beautiful poem. i guess all men ARE the same...
 — syzygy

beautiful :) makes me think back to my childhood
 — xtormentedx

I still am in my childhood and I can relate to this on one level or another - I simply hope my summer heartbreak turns out as adorable as this peice.  Favourite - so well done:  Love the images, references, word choice, and enjambment choices here and there :)
 — WordsAndMe

this poem/piece sounds like as it were her and me. when we were together...
therefore 'why would you write like her?'... is all...
and the guessing comes only because you predicted/wrote exactly like i behaved in the past...

thanks for commenting on mine
 — unknown

Great job.
 — MEB

wow. thank you guys so much!
 — poppy_seed

Yay! This poem is #1 Recent Best - completely earned.  :) I keep coming back for rereads... absolutely love this peice, poppy!
 — WordsAndMe

sweet images, sincere and charming tone
you really convince me right to the last line without the slightest trace of cliche. you described love in such a unique, touching, personal way,
your poem goes straight to the heart.
 — sparrow

I love this!
 — myteenangst

oh i really enjoyed this a lot. :) i know the feeling in the first two lines, i can totally relate.

just a thought, but the comma in l8 doesn't seem right. i think a semi-colin (sp? sorry, i suck at spelling...) might work better, since they are two seperate thoughts.

otherwise i really really liked this. <3
 — missmurder

breezy and pretty as a seaside dance. ( 10)
 — borntodance

oh my god sasha your poem is the #1 best on the site! I am so proud of you!
 — OwlGirl

How droll that your 2 poems are in back-back competition with each other.

 — unknown

wrong poem! I am so sorry poppy!

 — unknown

All the confusion of being young.
 — unknown

I hate this it's boring boring boring sappy sappy sappy
 — Charlie

I have read this poem about 17 times, and have learned, almost instinctually, to hate with a ferver I have never felt before. My last thought as my eyes glazed into donut holes was God, please, if you exist, let Summer Go quicker than it came, Just destroy the world and rid me of this worthless piece of pixel space.

I hope you feel seven forever, find the Gum drop queen, protect candy land. This poem is the only bug I will ever flick.

Where do I begin? How can I point out that which makes me hate this poem so much? First let us start with what I like.

Your language is sufficient, you have moments of soft and gentle tones, "he plucked me, wilted." and "tasting of sugar and cake batter" are examples of this tone not to mention clever sounding lines. So, I must conclude, there is not much I want to delve into your poetic execution mostly because I find your execution sufficient.

Here is my problem, and Take HEED OF THIS POINT.

YOU ARE LYING THROUGH YOUR TEETH. Poetry is lies, but never should I feel like I am being lied to.  Where is my proof? Your first two lines, "Summer came - I felt seven again / and restless."

NO, YOU DID NOT FEEL SEVEN AGAIN BECAUSE AT THE AGE OF SEVEN NOT ONE OF THESE THOUGHTS WOULD POP INTO YOUR HEAD. You are obviously someone recollecting, impressing your own images and ideas to a figure that doesn't want your images. You have sufficiently destroyed the illusion, I can see you lying, that is the problem. There is no amount of poetic jazz and spice that can remedy this lack of intuition. I saw through your weak foundation and it pisses me off.

Now, if you brought upon a twist, that which toys between memories and truth, this poem would be redeemed. But as it is now, it fails, and of course English artsy fartsy minions will like your poem, because it is all poetic flash and no substance.

For the record, I am an English and Philosophy double major so lets not get into ad hominems against me, eh? I see this type constantly, and my distaste is growing faster than distaste should grow.
 — pra3torian

being a double-major in english and philosophy doesn't give you a right to cut other people down with your pretentious and self-important bullshit.  i don't lie.  i hate liers. but what i hate more than liers is hypocrites. Just because you feel that my poem "it is all poetic flash and no substance," does not give you the right to entirely insult me as well as my writing without giving a whit of constructive criticism.  This poem has a lot of "substance" for me.  this is how i feel.  obviously, you are not looking deep enough into the substance of the poem to see that the descriptions such as "I felt seven again and restless" have deeper meanings than me actually believing that with each advent of summer i miraculously devolved into a seven year old.  

for the record, i don't care if you like my poem or not. all i expect is the common courtesy not to be called a liar and other epithets or "ad hominems" - a courtesy i would give to you if you hadn't pissed me off.
 — poppy_seed

Reread my critique, because I don't need nor want to repeat myself and my points.

I read your poem 17 times, now I have read your poem about 29 times and I still agree with my previous comment.

You may call me a poor reader, a boy without a critical eye, a blind bat to metaphors, somone incapable of realizing the true meaning of poetic strength and nuances, I don't give a camels toe about these accusations. Whatever makes you happy.

But your poem makes a simple mistake, people forgetting their own reality. If you actually accepted this mistake you would have an interesting poem, but you do not. You are simplistic.

I do enjoy your anger, however, perhaps you should write a poem about some silly critique that ruined your precious precious poem. Call it, "I polished a turd, and it smelled like Pra3torian."
 — pra3torian

"I felt seven again" is a fine line. We have self-consciousness at seven. We know if we feel loved/unloved, pretty/unpretty, safe/unsafe.
 — borntodance

thanks grace.
 — poppy_seed

sorry but its trite and predictable in my opinion, and what 7 year old would think like that?? Or was your childhood something more  sensual than most, way more?
Perhaps a Doctor would be of more help to you than writing like this.
OF course thiss is just my opinion.
 — danamom

I liked this precisely because it is so light and simple, a breath of fresh air. I believe we should respect the fact that people have different styles of writing and it may differ at any point in time, given the inspiration. Sometimes what fills that emptyness only poetry can fill, is a "heavier" type and sometimes one like this is exactly what speaks to us...
 — Nostalgia

Why would anyone read this poem and inject his/her own childhood? Each childhood is unique. But I can tell you that I'm way older than poppy_seed and I remember being seven. I remember it because it was my year to shine. I won't say more about that , but sensuality does exist for some children. Is that healthy? That is not the point. Stop raping the memories of this poet.

fumingly,  Grace
 — borntodance

this poem is not meant to be the sensual memories of a little child.  the only emotion i was trying to express through saying "i felt seven again" was the feeling of being protected and looked out for by someone who loved me.  then i pull back in to the present time, essentially saying that I am still loved and protected, but this time in a romantic way.  i was not a sensual seven year old - but i feel that many people are getting confused. So is there a way that i could express what i'm trying to express without this miscommunication?  
 — poppy_seed

reading the poem the way it is now, there is an underlying sensual tone, do I find it strange or abnormal? no, but I'm a psych major, so from my perspective, it seems natural, most children at that age have almost a crush-like relationship with their parents of the opposite sex (Oedipus & Electra's Complex ring a bell?), little girls adore their daddies & are quite jealous of sharing their father's attention with their siblings and even mother (this is similar with boys).  
poppy_seed, if that wasn't your intention, you'll have to separate the piece clearly, delineating the past -child/parent relationship from the present love relationship by giving the reader the notion of a change in time (eg but that was then, now . . .), something that tells us the speaker is no longer referring to that memory. Don't know if anything I said made sense but I hope it helped.  ;-)  
 — redsky

    poppy_seed, redsky makes a good point that there could be some signposts to delineate between past and present, but really, I don't think you need them.  If a reader has to be led by the nose like that, you're not going to make them happy no matter what.  I could even see some angry person saying, "of COURSE I don't think that it's about a sexual 7-year-old; what do you think I am, a pervert?"
   This is charming, and you need not explain.
 — mikkirat

thanks so much!
 — poppy_seed

i like the last stanza. makes me swallow strawberry ice tea under a willow in the kitchen. (and i never tried the strawberry ice tea). have a good day.
 — lazyduck187

Tasting of sugar and cake batter...YUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!  Kisses like these are very rare, indeed.  What a sweet, innocent and love-filled tribute to the one.  My one thought otherwise would be to delete the "and" beginning L15.  It's a conjunction and it doesn't really even serve to connect the previous line/s.  Good job!
 — starr

Oh, the karma that is due Pra3torian, the braggart and this site's one stinging taste of toxicity.  Sadly his intelligence can't be void of such arrogance.  Ignore him and continue to write whatever it is that is inside your heart.  
 — unknown

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