[stylist] Re Poems about weather

[Lynda Lambert]

thanks for your comments, Sm.  I wrote it as I remembered it - I was 
probably about 4 or 5  years old and quite afraid of lightening as it 
flashed all around us on that porch.  The new refrigerator must have been 
really important to me, since I wanted to know if it could go with  us when 
we died - from the lightning, I suppose. I know by the date of publication 
that I wrote this poem in grad school. Lynda




-----Original Message----- 
From: Semirhage via stylist
Sent: Friday, August 14, 2015 12:46 AM
To: Writers' Division Mailing List
Cc: Semirhage
Subject: Re: [stylist] Re Poems about weather

Linda,
I liked the poem. Oddly I was picturing the scene of the rocking chair and
you in our father's lap s a child, and it felt so warm and summer like and
peaceful and pleasant that I was surprised a little to see that you were
frightened by the storm. If that was the intent, cool, and if you wanted it
to come across more frightening in the beginning to convey that, maybe more
dark undertones or something. Not sure maybe it's just me as I like the rain
in the summer especially.
Funny about the refrigerator and taking it with you when you die as I loved
that bit as being a young minded thing we can likely all relate to as
children. The want to do something like that and attachment to things in
such a way that we want it with us even in the beyond...Like the Ancient
Egyptians and other cultures believed/felt always and that's why they buried
with them so many worldly possessions.
This poem was neat for me as I did actually have something to ad about it.
Many are behind me, escaping either praise or criticism as I know they're
just beyond me and though that's not  bad, it doesn't allow me to speak
constructively on it either. I think I'm careful of that due to a
educational situation that happened to my husband and I a few years sago at
our local writer's group meeting. The guy trying to critique a fantasy story
we'd begun held the entire thing up with thoughts and comments that were not
helpful and made no sense because he was a realistic fiction writer and knew
nothing about fantasy. HE admitted as much, but another author interrupted
him to say anything you're telling them to clarify wouldn't be necessary to
a fantasy reader and anyone reading this would be. I.E the things he wanted
clarified wouldn't need to be to anyone reading it with an interest in such,
so it was hindering more than anything. I feel the same when it comes to
most poetry and that's why I don't comment about it, not feeling apt enough
to do so.
Sem
I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed.
I get along with the voices inside of my head.


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