Reviews for Thirsting
eyes of sky chapter 1 . 1/29/2007
There's so much poured into here I don't even know where to begin, or if I could begin. Just the way you sliced "again" is enough in itself.
Just stopping by to read chapter 1 . 1/11/2007
Holy, holy...i didn't know words could be strung together like this. speechless. I have fallen in love with you through the words flashing on a computer screen.
Eirien chapter 1 . 11/28/2006
Amazing imagery. your poetry is difficult to understand but really professional (perhaps the two go together? ;-)).
CostumeForAGutterball chapter 1 . 11/24/2006
WOW. I haven't been able to catch up on my reading, but I saw you'd updated, so I had to look!

You have a way with words that inspires and floors me - it's amazing!

Thanks for the way you write and keep it up!

Great piece and the title fits it perfectly!
Gilee7 chapter 1 . 11/23/2006
I came here last night to review this but Fictionpress was acting funny. It kept saying that there was "heavier traffic than expected." So I eventually gave up and went to bed. Now I'm back with a ton of turkey digesting in my belly.

So yeah, Happy Thanksgiving, Juliet.

Now, let me try and review this amazing piece of poetry.

[rotted on your curved tongue / like barnacles.] That's quite a striking image. I only wish I knew what it meant.

[I dreamt last night that you kissed / me with a mouth full of seashells] The imagery in this poem is freakin' amazing. Most of it's over my head, though. Like this mouth-full-of-seashells image ... I can totally picture it, and it's quite a striking image once again, but I don't exactly know what it -means-! Where's Frued when I need him? I'm trying to think about what it would be like to kiss somebody with a mouth full of seashells, though. Seems quite difficult. It'd probably hurt, too.

[you were bursting, / sweltering, / on fire, / like a wind; licking / at my swollen eyes.] I love this stanza. "Burting" and "sweltering" are such great words. And swollen eyes is yet another great image. Kinda goes along with swollen mouth of seashells.

[Born knowing all of the things we / need to know, before it’s / taught out of us, / beaten out of us, / before we drown in / embarrassment / & / exhaustion / & / anxiety.] This is such a depressing, dystoptian-like concept. There's some psychologist dude who says we're all born with a blank slate. I'd like to think that we're born with -some- knowledge already programmed in, though. What's so interesting about this stanza is that you're saying the exact opposite of the whole 'blank slate' theory, but yet the more I think about it, it's still kinda the same thing. Whereas with that theory violence and evil is programmed into children because of their parents and the world around them, these lines give the same bleak result, but not because we're having our slate filled, but erased, rather. And I don't know if I'm making any sense. All that damn t-stuff that's in turkey and makes us sleepy is taking effect on me.

[I am blessed they say! But, \ people say a lot of things.] Everybody says this. No matter what's going on in our lives, we're always 'blessed' to have something: blessed to have a home, blessed to have a family, blessed to have food to eat. No matter what's going on in your life, you can always find something to say you're 'blessed' to have. It's like when people watch a crippled person in a wheelchair or something, that person later talks about how 'blessed' we are just to be able to talk and stuff. I'm blessed to have the internet so I can write this review. I'm blessed to have fingers so that I can type. I believe the word 'blessed' is way overused. Nowadays it just means "stop your bitching, at least you have [insert here]."

[And I think about a retraction, / a rewrite ... into the silence / of situation,] You do alliteration so well I often wonder if you even realize you're doing it as you're writing or if it just comes naturally- that subconscious genuis stuff.

[With her words like wounds, / and her scars like screams] Another example of great alliteration.

[But I hunt the silence. / I kiss it. / Make love to it. / And murder it. / Surrender it.] I love this stanza. The short, blunt sentences are really cool. They feel very stylish, too, and they fit very well into the poem. They're a nice contrast from the longer, more detailed lines. I could totally see this in a song.

[ pink corsets laced \ with childish hands] I've read this poem several times, but this is the first time I've realized how similar this image is to the whole 'fingers like twin pink oceans' deal.

[when / as a girl I awoke as a woman / with blood on my legs.] This is an image that seems to recur in a lot of your poetry. But it's a very powerful image; and in many ways it kinda sums up what a lot of your poetry is about.

[or am I Artemis] You're definitely into mythology. You often references various Greek gods and goddesses in your poetry, and hardly ever do I actually know who you're talking about. I need to start researching my Greek mythology.

[Laughing at the fear I feel / in tempting fate to forsake me again.] I really like this. And again with the amazing alliteration. It's so subtle here I hardly noticed it.

[Again - I want to slash that word: / GAIN A (emptiness) / IN A (something) beyond my eyes] I think that's clever.

[Beyond mercy - so I dance / and I drink / and I fuck,] I really like the word "fuck." I mean, it's considered the baddest of bad words, but it packs such a punch when used effectively (and sparingly).

[Like, kiss and tell.] For some reason this line makes me smile every time.

[I tell them that they have no idea, / but they don’t believe me. / I look at them expecting them to dissect me - / I’m waiting for someone to throw themselves / at me, yelling: ‘yes, I see it now. You never had me / fooled. I can see through you like glass...’ / cut glass. shattered. broken. a ruin burning herself / to the ground, and cackling.] This is how I feel at church. I feel like if the people at my church truly knew me, they wouldn't like me. But that's the way I feel toward just about everybody, because with the exception of maybe one or two people, I don't think anybody knows the -real- me. Like I'm thinking about my writing right now ... I feel like everybody that knows me would be absolutely stunned if they read my writing. I'd probably be burned at the stake or stoned or something. People would never guess that I write some of the things I write.

[And I leave. Spill my drink. / Rip my dress. Break my heel. Sleep it off. Roam / the world ever-still hunting.] I think this might be my favorite part of the poem. It's so cinematic and stylish. Love the rhythm, too.

[But the rain cleanses me, reminds me, is kind to me / and I cup my fingers like twin pink oceans / and drink as though flesh were a desert consuming me] Fantastic lines. I love the repitition of "twin pink oceans" throughout the poem. That could've easily been the poem's title; though I'm glad you chose "Thirsting," instead.

[I part my lips, thirsting.] Perfect ending.

I've gotten to where I have to look in the thesaurus to keep myself from using the same words over and over when reviewing your poetry. Here's the list I have to choose from: great, astounding, fantastic, excellent, amazing, perfect, wonderful, astonishing, extraordinary, stunning, orgasmic . . . and the list continues.

The imagery in this was so freaking strong; I think it was some of your best, actually. The rhythm was great; and I'm also happy to see such a wonderful use of grammar. I know I've bitched about the grammar in the past, because, even if poetry may not be -required- to have grammar the way that prose does, I strongly believe that a good use of grammar enhances a poem and makes it even better. This is a pretty long poem, but it doesn't feel long in the slightest. It never grows tiresome; the poem stays fresh to the very end. I also believe a Freudian type person could have a ball with this poem. Whereas I enjoyed all your imagery on an aesthetic level, I believe some of the images went over my head because I failed to understand the symbolism behind them. In no way did that take anything from this poem, though. This is the kind of poem I'd like to read over and over and over and over and then put it aside and think about it for awhile before picking it back up and reading it another twenty-five thousand times.

The poem is freakin' genius. It would've taken me thirty years to write something like this, and even then it would've sucked when compared to yours.

You are so amazing, Juliet. On this Thankgiving day, I am thankful for you and your (*looks at list*) extraordinary poetry.

Write on!
disabled account chapter 1 . 11/20/2006
For some reason I was particularly struck with the recurrent theme of "twin pink oceans." Consummate imagery.
Anaare chapter 1 . 11/12/2006
A very interesting and beautiful piece of poetry, which I enjoyed reading immensely. "Cup my fingers like twin pink oceans", is one of the most amazing metaphors I've read in a while. Well, all I can say is: wonderful work!
Ericka chapter 1 . 11/6/2006
*Applauds* Brava! I have never read such beautifully written works!
simpleplan13 chapter 1 . 10/31/2006
I love ending with the title... great piece... awesome job
like a lover chapter 1 . 10/27/2006
i don't even have words.

you should see my face right now.

..just. wow.
SunFlower737 chapter 1 . 10/6/2006
i put the last poem you wrote as one of my favorites and now i'm tempted to change it! This was equally spectacular. I liked the barnacles image and who would have thought of a mouth full od seashells but you? Brilliant though wish i had thought of it lol really nice work!
by His blood chapter 1 . 10/1/2006
oh my god, this is so gorgeous. you are an incredible writer. the imagery, the format of this - it's flawless, all of it is just amazing. it leaves me speechless. i adore everything you write, and this is no exception. definitely a favorite.
Chandra-Moon chapter 1 . 9/30/2006
We always want something, it's never enough. What I want is constantly changing, when I get what I want I no longer want it. We are never satisfied.

Am I anywhere close? In the park? No? Oh well. Beautiful, you have lovely images, but it's the rhythm that drew me in. The fast paced, directness of it.
in theory chapter 1 . 9/27/2006
Hahaha. I misread the title. Ah the simple, sweet irony. My apologies.

Love the finger metaphor, you seem to have a talent for using fingers in your work. Again, in no way meant rudely. O:-)

Seashells...reminds me of Female. I always see a "mouthful of seashells" to look like an oranutangs grin or something...a little simple, but full of realism and straightforward happy. And a healthy bit of creepyness too.

(this is taking forever to think through)

"bejeweled" sexy line, it reminds me of something Shylock would say.

The stanza about rewriting and retraction reminds me of "viperish"..the whole thing was about refusing to alter things so the audience would be happy. Pretty rhyme with actions and reactions too.

"hunt the silence" so silky and demanding, I can see it happening. I love silence, but it doesn't have to be absolute...noise around me sometimes makes me silenter. It's all very odd, but your stanza is spot on.

Juicy ending, sensual. As always, fanfuckingtasting.

Will read more soon m'dear,J
Elizabeth Bilberry chapter 1 . 9/26/2006
You ensnare me in your words, your emotions and your poems with deeper meanings.

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