Arts & Humanities: Poetry: “Question: What do you think of this poem?” plus 5 more |
- Question: What do you think of this poem?
- Question: Personifying Anxiety?
- Question: What exactly is six holy oranges in my lap'' in the poem , words by Anne Sexton?
- Question: Does this sound like alliteration to you?
- Question: HOW IS THIS POEM? PLEASE READ AND CRITICIZE WELL?
- Question: Do you like this poem I wrote for America, politics section?
| Question: What do you think of this poem? Posted: 29 Jul 2016 03:12 PM PDT Numbness? check. Void? check. Death? check. Yes, this meets all the criteria for being yet another boring "dark" adolescent angst poem. Now go away. UPDATE: Plus, the thumbs down indicates that the author (who is so embarrassed at how bad this thing is that they won't ever reveal their fake Yahoo name) can't take honest criticism. |
| Question: Personifying Anxiety? Posted: 29 Jul 2016 12:25 PM PDT Anxiety is a monster that, at times remains dormant, but you can always feel it lingering behind you, breathing down your neck. The littlest things can set it off, and when that happens, it just clings to you. It wraps it's arms around you, squeezing until it's hard to breathe, squeezing until your hands feel numb, and squeezing so hard you feel like there is no escape. This monster seems harmless, and at a glance you would assume you could shake it off, but once it latches on, you feel powerless. With this creature on your back, that is the only thing you can concentrate on. Once it's had its fill, it leaves you, but you still feel the effects. All your life you live in fear that the monster will come back, and it consumes your mind. Source(s): Not really a 'person' but i put it into a somewhat physical form. Idk if that's what you were looking for.
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| Question: What exactly is six holy oranges in my lap'' in the poem , words by Anne Sexton? Posted: 29 Jul 2016 10:40 AM PDT This is a metaphor for the words that are held dear to her. They can be whatever you choose..love, hate,,life,death sorrow,happiness. But despite this beautiful facet of words, Sexton ensures to highlight their dangerous capability. She proclaims 'yet often they fail me' and the 'wrong ones kiss me', which somewhat implies that we are in some ways the victims of language; the wrong words come to us, we do not come to them, we do not kiss them. |
| Question: Does this sound like alliteration to you? Posted: 29 Jul 2016 10:16 AM PDT Report AbuseAdditional DetailsIf you believe your intellectual property has been infringed and would like to file a complaint, please see our Copyright/IP Policy Report Abuse Cancel Report AbuseAdditional DetailsIf you believe your intellectual property has been infringed and would like to file a complaint, please see our Copyright/IP Policy Report Abuse Cancel Report AbuseAdditional DetailsIf you believe your intellectual property has been infringed and would like to file a complaint, please see our Copyright/IP Policy Report Abuse Cancel |
| Question: HOW IS THIS POEM? PLEASE READ AND CRITICIZE WELL? Posted: 29 Jul 2016 08:41 AM PDT "The roses turn sepia and wilt away" is a good sensory image. Keep that, and throw everything else away and start over, because everything else in this is either a boring abstraction or generality ("despair,' "forsaken," etc.), or is a dead, cliched metaphor ("shattered like glass," soul as "empty cavern", "blinded by pride," etc.). Replace all that stuff with original, vivid sensory images like the one about the rose. Also, the entire poem is written as a run-on sentence when in fact it is several sentences. |
| Question: Do you like this poem I wrote for America, politics section? Posted: 29 Jul 2016 04:34 AM PDT If you believe we've got a picture-perfect plan, we've got you fooled because we only do the best we can. Sometimes we make it. |
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