Luna's Form Poetry
Viewing comments for Chapter 5 "Mickey"a place to gather my poetic forms
28 total reviews
Comment from frierajac
This is a beautiful poem of the spirit overcoming odds. Perhaps it would also make
a fine elegy, if yu cared to try. There is only one issue I have and it doesn't really matter. It is just that th word "oxymoron" is a signifier for a word and not a phrase, thought or clause. It seems to me that the word paradox would work here also because the concept of paradox is intrinsic to belief. I wish I had a 6 left!
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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This is a beautiful poem of the spirit overcoming odds. Perhaps it would also make
a fine elegy, if yu cared to try. There is only one issue I have and it doesn't really matter. It is just that th word "oxymoron" is a signifier for a word and not a phrase, thought or clause. It seems to me that the word paradox would work here also because the concept of paradox is intrinsic to belief. I wish I had a 6 left!
Comment Written 26-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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dear frierajac, I'll take the virtual six, and thank you for that. You know, "paradox" is the exact word I was looking for. Shame on me for not researching a bit deeper. When the dust settles a bit I'll come back and revisit. Your kind words and fine rating are a blessing to me.
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most welcome
Comment from Day Z Chayn
Hi Luna,
The homeless addict on the street sings your name. Mickey.
The addict sleeping off the streets in a shelter with no shoes sees your name etched on the peripheries of both the stars and the moon. Mickey.
The homeless veteran with his one wary eye and his other weary one remembers the day he came back from the war, to find you sitting with your face in your hands because it was the only thing which held you together when nobody else could. Mickey.
Snowflakes fall in the cold of the night and tonight across a sullen, sodden, soot-filled sky, I glance upwards to see the wings of an angel stretched aloft and underneath me, and they remain and are in fact yours which succor and protect the remainder of all those numberless and meandering souls who remember your name and face and words from your first breath to your last whom you hold today and tomorrow and forever in your outstretched ethereal hand like a mother's caress. Mickey.
(No one ought forget the joy he gave you. Even strangers. Mickey held on to the addicts and the down -and- outers. Now that's your job. For a mother, a lover, a fighter, and poet, this is your only job. You are all those things, and so much more, Luna. I can't vouch for myself in these matters all the time, but what on earth can the disenfranchised person, [any of them, anywhere in the Universe; [not just this material or ethereal world] ever say?)
Ever grateful,
Shane
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Hi Luna,
The homeless addict on the street sings your name. Mickey.
The addict sleeping off the streets in a shelter with no shoes sees your name etched on the peripheries of both the stars and the moon. Mickey.
The homeless veteran with his one wary eye and his other weary one remembers the day he came back from the war, to find you sitting with your face in your hands because it was the only thing which held you together when nobody else could. Mickey.
Snowflakes fall in the cold of the night and tonight across a sullen, sodden, soot-filled sky, I glance upwards to see the wings of an angel stretched aloft and underneath me, and they remain and are in fact yours which succor and protect the remainder of all those numberless and meandering souls who remember your name and face and words from your first breath to your last whom you hold today and tomorrow and forever in your outstretched ethereal hand like a mother's caress. Mickey.
(No one ought forget the joy he gave you. Even strangers. Mickey held on to the addicts and the down -and- outers. Now that's your job. For a mother, a lover, a fighter, and poet, this is your only job. You are all those things, and so much more, Luna. I can't vouch for myself in these matters all the time, but what on earth can the disenfranchised person, [any of them, anywhere in the Universe; [not just this material or ethereal world] ever say?)
Ever grateful,
Shane
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Dearest friend,
I'm sobbing after reading these words. You seem to be able to touch me like few others' are able. Did we know each other in another life, I wonder?
Thank you for repeating his name. That means so much.
"The homeless addict on the street sings your name. Mickey.
The addict sleeping off the streets in a shelter with no shoes sees your name etched on the peripheries of both the stars and the moon. Mickey."
I'd say this was my favorite portion of your review but that was the first paragraph and the one that set me to tears. They ALL mean much to me, Shane, EVERY WORD.
Of course, I ADORE the six-star review, but this review would have been one of those closest to my heart had you rated me with nothing but one-star. But I'm getting to know that you say nothing you don't mean. Thank you to the moon and back, brother!
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Any one star-review, Jeni,
Is a disservice to your son Mickey and you, Jeni.
~Shane~
Comment from LIJ Red
I wrote one sestina, and salute anyone who will tackle the form. The selection of
words and a bit of planning beforehand helps, but believing in what you're saying is most important. Excellent post.
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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I wrote one sestina, and salute anyone who will tackle the form. The selection of
words and a bit of planning beforehand helps, but believing in what you're saying is most important. Excellent post.
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Dear red, this is only my third sessions. The six line - enders came right to me this time as I thought about my son. Thanks for your read and review ❤️❤️
Comment from sanejane
You certainly enjoy a challenge. Your notes give the impression that you're not yet entirely happy with this lovely poem. I wish I could help, but I can't fault it, except for these lines:
Firstborn, beloved son, protector and best friend, Mickey
is your name. I hope not only I remember the way you looked and the blue of your eyes, angel.
I'd prefer to see something like:
Firstborn, beloved son, protector and best friend, you are my Mickey.
I hope not only I remember the way you looked and the blue of your eyes, angel.
This line is the only one that shows your anger:
You thwarted that bastard, Addiction, and caused him to lose his grip on Colleen. Her angel.
Maybe it should be changed, but I can't bring myself to make an alternative suggestion. I suspect it's something you need to say. Addiction is stealing our children from under our noses, and I, too, hate it with a vengeance.
It's a beautiful trubute, and Mickey has a beautiful look about him; his expression brims with love and fun.
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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You certainly enjoy a challenge. Your notes give the impression that you're not yet entirely happy with this lovely poem. I wish I could help, but I can't fault it, except for these lines:
Firstborn, beloved son, protector and best friend, Mickey
is your name. I hope not only I remember the way you looked and the blue of your eyes, angel.
I'd prefer to see something like:
Firstborn, beloved son, protector and best friend, you are my Mickey.
I hope not only I remember the way you looked and the blue of your eyes, angel.
This line is the only one that shows your anger:
You thwarted that bastard, Addiction, and caused him to lose his grip on Colleen. Her angel.
Maybe it should be changed, but I can't bring myself to make an alternative suggestion. I suspect it's something you need to say. Addiction is stealing our children from under our noses, and I, too, hate it with a vengeance.
It's a beautiful trubute, and Mickey has a beautiful look about him; his expression brims with love and fun.
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Dear Jane, thanks for the great review and suggestion. When the dust settlles I'll look at making that change ❤️❤️
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It makes me slightly uneasy recommending adjustments to such a talented poet...
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I find i helpful. Please don't feel awkward!
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I'm sure I'll get used to it :)
Comment from Mrs Happy Poet
This is very well written you are definitely a very strong lady alcohol and drugs can destroy so many lives I am pleased that your son is still with you in your heart well done regards Jill
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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This is very well written you are definitely a very strong lady alcohol and drugs can destroy so many lives I am pleased that your son is still with you in your heart well done regards Jill
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Thanks so much for the compliment, Jill. I should note that I've been clean and sober for 32 years... Like mother, like soon, I guess.
Comment from crybry67
I have no idea how to critique or write a sestina. I do know I really like your poem, it is a beautiful tribute to your son. I'm sorry for your loss, and I am glad you can know that you will be with him again someday. Its only my opinion, but I think your poem is just right. Blessings... Christy
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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I have no idea how to critique or write a sestina. I do know I really like your poem, it is a beautiful tribute to your son. I'm sorry for your loss, and I am glad you can know that you will be with him again someday. Its only my opinion, but I think your poem is just right. Blessings... Christy
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Dear Christy, thanks for your lovely review and for your kind condolences as well. ❤️❤️❤️
Comment from Sandra du Plessis
A very well-written sestina about the loss of your son. It is never easy for a parent to lose a child at any stage of their life. We just learn to accept.
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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A very well-written sestina about the loss of your son. It is never easy for a parent to lose a child at any stage of their life. We just learn to accept.
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Thank you for your kind words of review, Sandra. I hope i can learn acceptance soon. ❤️❤️❤️
Comment from Heather Knight
This must have been a difficult form to write. And also a very tough topic. I know nothing about poetry, but I think you've done very well.
This is a great tribute to Mickey.
Thanks for sharing.
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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This must have been a difficult form to write. And also a very tough topic. I know nothing about poetry, but I think you've done very well.
This is a great tribute to Mickey.
Thanks for sharing.
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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It was difficult all all get out to write, Maria. I appreciate you letting me know that you enjoyed it. ❤️
Comment from Dean Kuch
I wouldn't know a Sestina from a Siesta, Luna. I'm not exactly what you would call a "mechanically inclined poet." In fact, some would dare call me a poet at all.
I suppose we can't say enough how sorry we all are for the loss of your son, Mickey.
It's not going to matter really what we say or how many times we say it.
You're going to write about his death because you have to, the memory of it is toxic, like poison to your soul.
So, you just keep venting about your son's untimely demise and the addiction which lead up to it through your poetry, and try, as best you can, and get it all out of your system.
Until you do, you can never move forward or get past it.
Could any of us?
Well done...
~Dean
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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I wouldn't know a Sestina from a Siesta, Luna. I'm not exactly what you would call a "mechanically inclined poet." In fact, some would dare call me a poet at all.
I suppose we can't say enough how sorry we all are for the loss of your son, Mickey.
It's not going to matter really what we say or how many times we say it.
You're going to write about his death because you have to, the memory of it is toxic, like poison to your soul.
So, you just keep venting about your son's untimely demise and the addiction which lead up to it through your poetry, and try, as best you can, and get it all out of your system.
Until you do, you can never move forward or get past it.
Could any of us?
Well done...
~Dean
Comment Written 25-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Thank you, my understanding and compassionate friend. For your lovely review, i thank you.
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My pleasure, as always.
~Dean
Comment from joannakruk
an emotive piece, a lesson that society needs to learn about the dangers of addiction. It takes away one's soul, changes who we perceive them to be, yet a mother always remem
remembers the heart of the child that is afflicted with this darkness. God is your saving grace. well expressed.
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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an emotive piece, a lesson that society needs to learn about the dangers of addiction. It takes away one's soul, changes who we perceive them to be, yet a mother always remem
remembers the heart of the child that is afflicted with this darkness. God is your saving grace. well expressed.
Comment Written 24-Nov-2016
reply by the author on 26-Nov-2016
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Dear Joanna, my mother was lucky enough to see me recover from this disease that tells us we don't have a disease. I know my son was aware that he was addicted but the need was too strong.
Thank you!
