[stylist] Ode To There-There

[Lynda Lambert]

Excellent critique of the poem. I love reading a good thoughtful critique 
and I know it take much effort to do it. You did a very good work here, 
Bill!  Lynda
----- Original Message ----- 
From: "William L Houts" <lukaeon at gmail.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Sunday, March 16, 2014 10:43 PM
Subject: Re: [stylist] Ode To There-There


>
>
> HI Thea,
>
> For something you merely "dashed off", this one has a lot to recommend it, 
> though I think that some editing could really serve to bring out this 
> poem's strengths.  For instance, I think the phrase "sightless 
> hands" --now other editor-poets may disagree with me on this-- is not the 
> best phrase.  The reader, or anyway this reader, says:  well, of course 
> they're sightless, we're talking about hands here, LOL.  But the 
> description of the cat's ears as "silkies" is delightful.  I do think, 
> though, that to describe your little friend as feline is redundant with 
> repititive redundancies;  your description of the silky, swiveling ears 
> already puts us in mind of our kitty friends, we don't need a further 
> "feline" to clinch the deal. As for the earlike sound effects, I'm not a 
> fan of onomatopoeia in poetry, but you did choose the right sounds, in my 
> opinion, and I have to admit that cat's ears do make that thappish fuffish 
> sound when they ruffle them, so we each score half a point.  In general, 
> Thea, it's a fun and valorous effort, and you'll make a true poet of 
> yourself if you can stay the course, and continue to produce works like 
> this.
>
>
> --Bill
>
>
>  --Bill
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> On 3/16/2014 5:11 PM, Miss Thea wrote:
>> Something I dashed off, hope you like it. I haven’t written poetry in a 
>> while, but I like the musical of consonant and vowel.
>>
>> Ode to There-There
>>
>> He sits at my side like a guide dog,
>> Small and feline,
>> His ears pricked up.
>>
>> My sightless hand finds those thin-tipped silkies,
>> They fall underneath,
>> Flap and flutter against my skin,
>> thapp-a-papp-papp they say,
>>
>> Thapp, thapp, thapp,
>> He brushes his swivelling ears over my palm.
>> Pap-pap-papp!
>> Firecracker sound, butterfly touch,
>> He rolls on the floor,
>> Side to side, his earflaps flattened
>> He grabs my hands in his paws,
>> purrs, pretends to bite
>>
>> Writhing, stretching his sleek neck,
>> Lithe, limber, his flaps flex again
>> Purr so loud it squeaks.
>> I melt in adoration
>>
>> Oh, There-There, I know your truth,
>> You're no more a cat than I am,
>> Your secret's safe with me,
>> Angel.
>> _______________________________________________
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>
>
> -- 
> "Let's drink a toast now to who we really are."
>
>           --Jane Siberry
>
>
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