skip2mylou's profile

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AGE: 32
LOC: Chicago, IL
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: December 11

You can find my regular blog at: risktoblossom.blogspot.com

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Poetry / January (8/2 poem)
Version 1
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She comes in the night, wrapped in silver and white and her cool kiss burns my mouth. She is sharp as ice, tongue frozen as the stone path in the garden where the dead utter broken English beneath the layers of snow.
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Poetry / What's Past Is... (August 1st poem)
Version 1
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What's past is past, but every moment with you, no matter how slight was liquid ink - a stain on my memory: a cigarette run in the bony winter just before class, a chance meeting that brought rushed, breathy words - that quick exchange that started it all. Then telepathic messages lost in mutual passion for words, a phone call late at night to say I'd meant to kiss you. In between, a flicker elsewhere.  
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Poetry / Above The Mezzanine (July 31st poem)
Version 1
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 I’m looking through the glass at Saks Fifth Avenue, watching middle aged glamour-vixens search for the perfect open-toed, stiletto-heeled torture device and there’s a hole over the big toe of my canvases that I’ve decided adds character.   The whole floor smells like expensive perfume –                             &...
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Poetry / Fanmail (July 30th poem)
Version 1
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 Cecilia, glitter airbrushed feather, lying skinny and slit-necked you’re the multicolored, adjustable contrast to a natural universe.   Imported from scenic, elastic Montana and so synthetic, your body three-quarter poly-angora.   Threading flowers and butterflies into Chinese characters, you were exposed as the pyramid messenger.   My Garbo in poindexter glasses, peering through the gathered keyhole into the cosmic center, the starlight blink.   Once...
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Poetry / Evalynn, 1960's (my July 29th poem)
Version 1
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    If the generations between us were peeled back, they would reveal you, younger then, with freckled hands running through foam and water, fragrant heads in silver and chrome basins; all around, women in bubbled, NASA-esque helmets, heat blowing over their curlers, their perms, and the other beauty school students darting about in speckled smocks and plastic gloves, turning flaxen to flame for the divorcees reckoning with their X’s.   Fresh from your mother’s pat...
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Lyrics / naked in the light
by garfocus
Locked
Poetry / Self escape
by chorsphis
Locked
Poetry / Until It's Light She Dances Version 10
by oknapp
I think this poem has some truly gorgeous moments: "mingling of carefree shadows," "soft platinum light," "sun-brittled blind." The lyricism of the poem is clear evidence of your ear for musicality and the speaker's voice is consistent throughout, remaining soft, quiet. However, there are a few kinks you might like to work out - for instance, several of your adjectives to describe objects and states read as cliches. I've heard "silvery" to describe moonlight more times than I can count (and, ...
100.0% Review Quality (2 Votes)
Poetry / Your Leashed Insecurities
by CrypticRedClover
Locked
Poetry / Little Boy
by GreenIguana
My gut reaction to this is that, while interesting, it does feel a bit *too cryptic*. An evil sorcerer made him do it, but what is it? I feel like this might be regarding a recent media event (ahem) but while I was able to figure out that much, it wasn't entirely clear - or wouldn't have been had I not known about it. Also, you have a really cool metaphor going on, but some of your lines don't feel quite...poetic enough? I'm not sure of a better way to say it - they just feel a little choppy ...
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