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ParticoRomulus's profile 
AGE:
40
LOC: United States
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: September 07
LOC: United States
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: September 07
My name is Pat.
I’m a father, middle school history teacher, and an amateur musician. I’ve written poetry since I was a teenager, but lately have been possessed to push it as far as it can go.
I try to be honest and try not to hurt people, but it’s hard. Some folks, well… hmm. I will accept and consider thoughtful, honest and insightful criticism gracefully, even when I don’t agree with it. I guess I expect the same. Less than that is just that, in many ways.
www.myspace.com/particoromulus
or
ask me for my facebook url.
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Version 2
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How do I mourn a marriage passed? With a village wailing perhaps scooping dirt, palm by palm my relatives’ cries dissonant and shrill. How do I mourn a marriage passed? Maybe alone, fist bloodied and mirror smashed, on my back screaming at the kitchen ceiling teeth and tongue stained with wine. How do I mourn a marriage passed? In vital celebration I suppose, singing near the casket. “Isn’t it grand boys to be bloody well dead?” Trade this bitterness for hops...
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Version 2
2 Reviews
4 Comments
Late summer in the Green Mountains long after noon, a now perfect valley is born. Her first cries, crickets and red-winged blackbirds. Her bower, lilac and raspberry rocks with the dry north wind as it plays with chimes and whispers insects into dust from the old farm road. The sun, exhausted, caresses her cheeks and rests his warm lips on her brow. In goldenrod and Jerusalem artichoke I see her mother’s face.
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Version 5
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on Culp’s Hill trees and granite sculpted in morning light my son asks "Why'd they fight in such a pretty place?"
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Version 2
2 Reviews
4 Comments
stripping walls of paint and paper veil by veil revealing plaster cracked and crying out
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Version 3
3 Reviews
3 Comments
For Kerry, to Commemorate her Suicide and a Day of Peace in Ireland (Easter Weekend 1998, in the Northern Berkshires) ------------ Uprising! Rebellion! Such war inside must end like this. This afternoon the ancient mountain rises with sap and birdsong. Earth and sky cohere in sunlight, revealed as the rain recedes east. This day of wonder, this solemn memory- Shankill and Falls Road lead here. I wonder; where you are can you touch that girl in Belfast? She smiled for the camera but ended up i...
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I get the sense you're trying to evoke something worthwhile here, but it is definitely a rough draft. I will limit my criticism to your key weaknesses; imagery and metaphor. You're imagery for the most part lacks vivid language. ache, sound, joy, pain, sweet, aglow... these are tired words that evoke little. You do have some stronger words; tremolo, shatter, reverberate... strive for more of this and less of the other. The bigger problem however is your mixing and confusion of metaphors. In S...
The story itself has promise, though it's not particularly original, and as written borders on cliche. If you could develop it in a more original way, you might get somewhere. I don't see how it's appropriate as children's literature. Perhaps young adult? You need to revise. You overuse commas, for example. "As the days passed, my crush on her seem to deepen." No need for a comma here or in several other places. Review the rules. This sentence also exemplifies a certain sloppiness present thr...
50.0% Review Quality (2 Votes)
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