Reviews for Zillah, Washington
simpleplan13 chapter 1 . 10/26/2007
sad and beautifully written... I really love the stanza about the water...
Dale Christopher chapter 1 . 9/3/2007
I had to goggle the word Zillah to realize it was the name of a town (to me it’s a vampire from a Poppy Z. Brite novel). I love this poem for its subtle romance and anguish, and the honesty that truly touches the reader.

‘Where the stars milk heaven like hungry

infants to a well-starved mother.’

That was my favourite phrase. Ingenious.

-Daze
Ashelin chapter 1 . 8/28/2007
"Faltering, like a sky falling,

like a drug addict reliving the lover."

I really loved those lines. I really loved this poem. The hopeless feelings possessed. This is going to be a short and pointless review, but I really did love this. Amazing job as usual.
she smolders chapter 1 . 8/28/2007
Your poetry always feels so honest and personal, and always manages to touch something inside of me. Take care.
Julius Gillian chapter 1 . 8/28/2007
I think mainly because I'm in a chipper mood (aced my english essay) this came out very romantic, longing, but in a happy way that expresses what exactly you think/admire/are fascinated by the other person.

*I can see you boyish,

coattails, gritty nails on a bicycle

parading down sandy streets where

the lampposts stop burning around

ten o’clock.*

These lines make me think of a typical neighborhood (boy meets girl) but it also represents how normal people really are, unlike the stereotypical/golden boy heros we conjure up so much in our movies/books. This boy I believe holds a place in your memories, under the WM for warm memory section! Anyway, this stanza tells me how normal the boy really is, but how unique. There's also a neat contrast of day and night with the lampposts. Amazing how a poet can use an object and people can get the feel that time has elapsed.

*Where the stars milk heaven like hungry

infants to a well-starved mother.*

Well you definantly made me thirsty. Kinda grabbed everything that resembled milk there. Even infants are a perfect comparism with milk. That's probably because what they do all day. hah.

*In Zillah your body grew like a corn stalk reaching higher,

higher, like the 100 mg of valium swimming through your

system like a fish -*

What is Zillah? I won't venture so I don't sound any dafter than I assume I just made myself! And this is an interesting description, like something I'd read in Biology class. We're just covering the significance of water, so that instantly rung to mind.

*Pieces, born on my fathers birthday,

lifeguard, swollen arms, chlorine blue,

bloated with a child in your hands, holding

tight triggers on the diving board, jumps -

summersault, mid air, the hair on you

body stands rigid at the waters edge.*

I love it when you pick multiple words and throw them into some kind of textile order. They're like hop skotch almost for my imagination, and it has a successive order to it. 'holding tight triggers on the dividing board' makes me think of the weight you press on a diving board just seconds before you catapult below.

*This is the edge of my poem -

the edge of you - in Zillah.*

I do this too every now and then. The narrator of the poem reaches an understanding with the reader of how frail and simple a poem really is, a orchestra of letters just like a computer is data of 1s and 0s. Also there's that bordering of thoughts restricted by the edge of a poem. This seems like a playful poem almost :)

*this was before the pills of course, before the

blue ones, and the white ones, and the

red ones that say Refresh.*

This was indeed a turning point in the poem. And then I thought of the matrix. Give me any two or three colors of pills, the matrix and the agents will spring to mind.

The part where you cut off 'it's and 'ecstacy' was brilliant. Perfect intake of breath, and then stressing the last word without italicizing it or whatever. Awesome.

*Every time you talk about a past high, like a past

girlfriend that I shrivel with jealousy for.*

haha yeah, priceless.

Hmm, in the beginning you write brings me closer to you. And in the end you close with 'leaves' me closer to you. Somehow leaves me closer to you seems a whole damn lot closer than bringing. Did you intend that or... something else.

I'm still in that happy-go-lucky mood so excuse me if this poem wasn't as chipper as I imagine it to be. It was sweet, honest, romantic, full of memories like a photo albumn.

Keep writing Ms. Poetry 2007,

- Julian