“-heaven must be full with soil” -

that line right there stopped me cold. Althought I’m sure other reviews have said it, I’ll repeat. That right there, that is beautiful. In poems and in stories I run into a lot of words that leave me glazy eyed. And is this one of them – this is something I’ll remember for a long, long time.

- Sparrow

(firstly, in response to your huge review-essay thing; the splitting is something I was battling with, I wanted to chapter it but I dunno, I compromised by numbering them! hehe. Not sure what I'll do about them yet, it was all written in about 3 minutes. I've been distracted with so much and it all seemed to burst out in one go, hence the loss of format and structure and general sense hah. And the maids weren't dead, they were meant to be like those middle aged women who always wear some shade of silk and a really bad hat when churchgoing, and their eyes were rolling at the naughty kiddies. *shrugs* I think I like your interpretation better..)

Right from the beginning there's a flow, obviously with the first line's rhyme but also it's quite childish. It seems like a "dingaling, fingerlinger" kinda rhyme, it's tricky to navigate as an opening line but it also yanks you in. And then you're really caught by the next word, it paints an isolated, seductive picture of you with a finger on your lip.

"still packing my tits with acorns" came across in two ways. Firstly, it was humourous (but I've had 4 hours sleep since last updating/signing in and probably some chardonnay so don't take that personally), and then it seemed nostalgic. 'Hope it don't seem like I'm just saying the word nostalgia over and over in the reviews for the sake of it, it's just that there seems to be links.

"just one in a...born with deep-set eyes.." beautiful line, I always did think deep, dark eyes are insatiable.

Jessica swooning...this is the girl you dedicate your work to? She's always been at the back of my mind whilst reading "regretful" (?) poetry, or elegaic or whatever you want to call it, that you've written.

I love your impression of Heaven..you see it as nurturing rather than festering, full of possibiliy rather than termination. I'm not sure which I swing more for, to be honest.

"my finger must linger" is a fabulous way to end, the "on hope" bit completes it but I'd still love it without, just because of the power of the first line. Repetition, but in a totally different context.

(sorry to hear about your father, everything will run its course I suppose. And good luck with the relocating)

truly,

jack

that feds my sisters and I soil.. feeds my sisters and my soil

I love the whole soil thing here..very cool and the last line is awesome

your thoughts put to poetry are amazing. get published.

Excellent poem. I liked the various words that were in parenthesis. Nice effect. It flowed nicely too. Keep up the good work! I love your style. Can't wait to read more.

I like how you write it’s different. I enjoy it.

Queen Beira

you are so eloquent. your voice in this poem is beautiful. i love the words you use and i love near the end, "ballooning semi-automatic heartbreak." by the way, thanks for all your reviews. holyland in my most recent story is actually a real place! it's an abandoned religious theme park in waterbury, connecticut. i actually live in new york city but the whole idea was fascinating. thanks, and a wonderful poem. xx

The last line, I'm speechless.

i love how the fingers are almost an unifying element. definitely one of your more personal ones. nice work.

i love your style.. and the imagery was perfect.. good job on this one.. and thanks for the review..

btw, this is one of my favorite stories..

The flow & the meaning are great. I love your work!~!

~SMILES!

You should go to .com. They have a really good poetry community There. They're all pretty in to spoken word. I think you'd be well recieved there. If you do decide to open an account there, send a note or contact . somehow. I'd watch you without a second thought.

god your good!

Absolute genius, as always.

"My finger must linger on hope."

Wonderful.

Fantastic use of language here:

The already idling idiot.O multifarious -Is greed itself not a currency?A curtain as yet unopened,But a disease that passes from hand to Mouth like breadcrumbs.

What a picture this conjures of disatisfaction and disilusionment, in real terms. Those that suffer this, living with a sort of tragic acceptance, because they see nothing more, for they have been shown nothing more. Circumstance has never allowed any alternative for them to witness.

Yet the tone is shown to change gradually as you close this piece, it is wonderfully considered.

In the end I think we are all children;And that heaven must be full of soilFor so many souls to grow,To spring forth from the bitterly Supple cloudsInto a world not our own, but of must be love there,And loved finger must linger on hope.

Against all judgement to what has become accepted as the norm; faith holds a place and is given the appearance here that it will continue to do so.

Excellent Poem!

VERY WELL DONE!

KEEP WRITING!

F.C