|Reviews for Lanthanide Series|
| Spindel chapter 11 . 4/17/2003
All i can really describe this as is wow. This is such a great collection of poetry here. its obvious that a lot of time was spent here.
| Kievsky chapter 10 . 3/28/2003
Ah carbon...the basis of life and the remains that speak of the world's past and forever mark and measure age. I love the continuity in this one, not only how the lines connect but how the science driving it all is ongoing and how the proverbial (allegorical?) fish rises from the ancient mires. I like this one best of the Lanthanide Series.
Overall you used great imagery in all the poems and it was stylistically cool to see how you used the elements both to characterize the people and also these people to personify each element. Great stuff.
| Kievsky chapter 7 . 3/28/2003
I think the elements you chose for the Billy sections are particularly interesting because unlike lanthanum or cadmium, his elements are very well known for distinct properties. Billy must have two faces, one appearing strong and solid when at heart he is really volatile and cannot exist alone. He wants to move fast and burn out and will fall apart unless he can join another element and only then can he survive in stability. But that's just how I see it.
| Kievsky chapter 2 . 3/28/2003
Your imagery is particularly striking in this one. It's more heated, more intense and focused, than some of the other poems especially in integrating the pain in "Guernica" and the Sword of Damocles. It has an illicit feeling about it and the pace is frantic; it draws the workings of the world around David and Michael.
| sweetspontaneous chapter 2 . 3/23/2003
i love this. it feels like staying up all night or walking out in the snow at midnight, after the storm ends. mindblowing.
did you know, robert frost called poetry "a momentary stay against confusion." i think that is what this is.
| sweetspontaneous chapter 6 . 3/23/2003
have you ever read g.m. hopkins? this is like hopkins, or e.e. cummings, or both. i'd just like to reiterate that this absolutely blows my mind. amazing.
| sweetspontaneous chapter 4 . 3/23/2003
god...this is gorgeous. i adore everything about your use of language. there's something very poetic about chemistry, i've always thought- or is that just downright strange?
| aintawoman chapter 2 . 3/18/2003
Picasso! Geurnica... and very timely i may add...
i must so apologize for taking leeave of and missing your wonderful poetry! i don't know how i am EVER going to catch up.
i so enjoy your writing, you are so impecably good!
| Paradoxical Goddess chapter 4 . 3/16/2003
i am seriously unworthy. :(
| Paradoxical Goddess chapter 2 . 3/16/2003
your poetry makes me want to cry. but in a good way. (well and in an infinitely frustrated but awed way too)
| E. Gao chapter 2 . 3/16/2003
The quiet angels who
held hands in Guernica
in the new year have a
love of inner workings
and the chemistry of
humans, it seems as
though their half-lives
don't matter much anyway when all they see is their hand, tightly grasped in the other's.
Lanthanium wants to devour them but
because they are quiet angels it will
only succeed in melding their hands tighter together.
David is a comet himself, but he
does not yet realize it; he is
not alone of course, but he is
also with the stars hurtling down
to earth, the old earth with its
miniature burning craters and its
remnants of godlet visitors scattered across the gulfs and wartorn cities.
It is interesting that the chromium anion has
the most exceptions, or maybe it's lewis's
conspiracy; Michael cares about it only out
of love and only for the heart of history to
come claim him while his back dusts the ancient
shelves and his clinical laughter reminds the
birds of the view from geographic mathematical mountaintops.
Hydrogen is everywhere and so is Matt.
Matt's breath, Matt's sweat, Matt's self.
The only thing missing is the sleeping,
smiling girl who wishes to breathe and
live in Matt's air. If sleep comes so
certainly then so does spring, for spring
is merely the awakening of the earth from its certain sleep. Matt sleeps as well.
for brian and
that do not
sky and it
like a sea
and for that
is why the
Billy knows the importance
of rescuing sodium from its
solid state and taking the
backroads that have no stop
signs, but that does not
matter for no one will die,
at least not yet, not while
the roads are wet and taste
of salt, not while cities
fall under god's wrath, not
while the small scientific
miracles are still being
worked and not while people still cannot see past the nearest star.
Brian times the velocity of the rain and the magnitude
of the scars on his hands, although they have all been
washed away by summer's presence and humming wires of
fused elements, the plaster cold and silent as ever.
He wonders about the safety of optical flying because
watching the cars speed by from such a high altitude
makes summer seem so much closer and because no matter what his mouth will not close and his hands will not enlarge.
When Billy entered
the elaborate palace
there was no home-
there were no upside-
down eggs and thus
no cake batter. No
matter to Billy, he
will simply sit and
think and wonder
what the water tastes
like outside. He
thinks that nothing
will ever be the same
inside the concentric
eggs of the universe.
Science and faith have never butted
heads so easily and in such a friendly
way, but then again if angels can live
in the mind of brave Milton then so can
paintings that originate from the center
of the world. And certainly, certainly
you do not feel the pain of the young
because oh, you palm the fires of the sun
with such gorgeous ardor, as if each heartbeat were proof of the angels that reside on earth.
Kyle is frantic, and he is the
frantic movements of life that
appear with any sort of change;
it is why hours of foreign words
are needed and why outdoors
activity breeds discourse and
why he does not sleep when Matt
does. He does not remember
because he has gallopped for
days and spoken hours of new-
age Latin, conjugated so his
hands do not have to be broken
like crumbly bread over the hearth-flame that silently heats up the world.