|Reviews for Withering|
| Isca 3/6/10 . chapter 1
"He stands like a God / At the foot of my bed." This opening line is marvelous; the first part is quite impactful; the second is sensual (with a hint of vulnerability there too).
"Little man." There's something so striking about the tone of this line - it's like it's a term of endearment, as well as, a subtle allusion to the size of his manhood.
"The daffodils do not bloom in December." Oh God. This line is absolutely terrifying (in a good way, of course). The way that it connects to "I know that it is over" is just fantastic; the horror, the angst, the emotion! Wow. :D
"A discarded paper bag. He wears a sordid, secret smile." Aelfin, this is brilliant. There's a connection here between the paper bag and his smile - they're the same: they're both withering.
Keep up the great work!
| sealednectar 3/6/10 . chapter 1
A really beautifully written poem.
I loved the contrast between '
The daffodils do not bloom in December./ He whispers,' and 'I say,/The sun does not come out in the summer.'
| BigAssButterfly 3/6/10 . chapter 1
Very abstract-like and unique. I love the negatives you use in your lines like "The daffodils do not bloom in December" and "The sun does not come out in the summer". Your use of enjambment's appropriate as well. Intriguing poem, probably the best i've read today.
| Annabella x 3/6/10 . chapter 1
This was amazing.
One small thing:
Should it be "On the brink OF our small apocalypse". Instead of "OR"? ]
It really touched me. Great work. ]