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		Normally I'd wait a little while longer, but because this is my first personal poem, I'll post it now. Thank you all in advance for your valuable criticism.
 There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
 It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
 They still haven’t found the child.
 
 He is curled under a mattress
 In the empty home of a stranger
 Who no longer lives there.
 
 Every night, the stranger visits him
 Hovering above the bare bed like a spectre
 Telling him not to come out, that it’s not safe yet.
 
 That if he emerges, they’ll drag him into the bushes
 And beat him. That there’s nothing secure about discovery
 That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.
 
 The stranger is old, with a dark, featureless face
 And a body formed entirely of silver smoke.
 Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
 
 But the child just lays there-
 Like a stem with its petals plucked
 Before they could even bloom.
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		I'm aware that I use the adjective "beautiful" a little too liberally when describing poems I love, so lest the word becomes defunct in my reviews from overuse, I'll avoid it here.  
This poem is astonishing; I'm not sure if it's meant to be taken literally (if the stranger and the mattress are real, or allegorical) but somehow that doesn't matter. The emotions related here are so pure, so honest and painful and (dare I say it?) "real," that even the most hardened cynic will be moved (at least in my opinion). 
  (12-08-2010, 11:02 PM)Lawrence Wrote:  Normally I'd wait a little while longer, but because this is my first personal poem, I'll post it now. Thank you all in advance for your valuable criticism.
 There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
 It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
 They still haven’t found the child. Excellent end to this stanza. Darkly witty and menacing.
 
 He is curled up under a mattress
 In the empty home of a stranger
 Who no longer lives there.
 
 Every night, the stranger visits him I think a comma would be useful here.
 Hovering above the bare bed like a spectre Would simply "his bed" work a wee bit better than "the bare bed"? The adjective bare isn't really needed (IMHO).
 Telling him not to come out, that it’s not safe yet.
 
 That if he emerges, they’ll drag him into the bushes
 And beat him. That there’s nothing secure about discovery
 That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next. This verse reminds me of an ad I once saw for a children's charity, where a scared little boy pulls a blanket over himself lest his attacker return. Scary and effective.
 
 The stranger is old, with a dark, featureless face
 And a body formed entirely of silver smoke. Love that idea of a being composed entirely of smoke, and the adjective "silver" works well.
 Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
 
 But the child just lays there-
 Like a stem with its petals plucked
 Before they could even bloom. This is technically cliche, but somehow it works.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		12-08-2010, 11:46 PM 
(This post was last modified: 12-08-2010, 11:46 PM by Todd.)
	
	 
		Holy Crap! Lawrence this is fantastic.  (12-08-2010, 11:02 PM)Lawrence Wrote:  Normally I'd wait a little while longer, but because this is my first personal poem, I'll post it now. Thank you all in advance for your valuable criticism.
 There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
 It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
 They still haven’t found the child.--This is a very dark opening. I really don't have any huge nits here. You could possibly cut going on since the next line expresses that it hasn't stopped.
 
 He is curled up under a mattress
 In the empty home of a stranger
 Who no longer lives there.--Each line here builds well. I thought about saying you could cut "up" but decided against it. It does add to the idea. You get sort of a fetal position thing going on. Someone that has retreated into themselves.
 
 Every night, the stranger visits him--I don't think you need him
 Hovering above the bare bed like a spectre--this works but you could also eliminate the like if you wanted to mix it up a bit
 Telling him not to come out, that it’s not safe yet.
 
 That if he emerges, they’ll drag him into the bushes
 And beat him. That there’s nothing secure about discovery--I think like most horrors in life if you say what will happen you diminish the terror. For that reason I'd cut "and beat him"
 That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.--one of the strongest psychological lines in the poem
 
 The stranger is old, with a dark, featureless face--featureless is a bit loose here. I'd like to have something more evocative. It doesn't ruin it it just feels like a bit of a cheat
 And a body formed entirely of silver smoke.--absolutely love this
 Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.--good place to break the strophe
 
 But the child just lays there---while this is good you're missing an opportunity to play off of remember. Nothing may come to you, and I don't really want flourishes in this poem I want stark harshness but just thought I'd point out the option.
 Like a stem with its petals plucked
 Before they could even bloom.--solid close
 
It's worrisome that this is a "personal poem", though given what I've written, life isn't all puppies and rainbows. Damn fine work Lawrence. Some real power in this one.
 
Best,
 
Todd
	
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		 (12-08-2010, 11:02 PM)Lawrence Wrote:  Normally I'd wait a little while longer, but because this is my first personal poem, I'll post it now. Thank you all in advance for your valuable criticism.
 There’s a game of hide-and-seek going on.
 It’s been fifteen years, and wouldn’t you guess it-
 They still haven’t found the child.
 
 He is curled under a mattress
 In the empty home of a stranger
 Who no longer lives there.
 
 Every night, the stranger visits him
 Hovering above the bare bed like a spectre
 Telling him not to come out, that it’s not safe yet.
 
 That if he emerges, they’ll drag him into the bushes
 And beat him. That there’s nothing secure about discovery
 That if he wants to be found, he deserves what comes next.
 
 The stranger is old, with a dark, featureless face
 And a body formed entirely of silver smoke.
 Sometimes, he asks the child if he remembers.
 
 But the child just lays there-
 Like a stem with its petals plucked
 Before they could even bloom.
 
i see todd has mention one of my only two nit and thats; 'him' in L7. is it needed? 
and are the words; L9 'that it’s not safe yet.' needed? the next line more or less reiterates the fact,  but is the stronger of two.
 
it's a quietly haunting piece that lays heavy 
 
(as i was typing the above line and reading the last verse, i felt the second line could end on 'petals' and 'plucked' go before 'before')
 
every thing's (jmho)
 
thanks for the read 
	 
		
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