Turn!

I believe in the site's mission that we show what we wish to improve. The words I give are only to help, if anything, create internal dialogue for my brother or sister poet. Never do I say anything with negative intent. I enjoyed your poem and read it over and over. Each line can stand on its own with strength of purpose. Collectively, the lines grow even stronger in depicting the feeling within the reader (me). Each line steps me forward in this feeling successfully. There is continuity. There is mystery. So it is interesting. The one line that distracts me from this continuity is "in due while to kin's red skins". The line...something about it, doesn't flow. I think it is something that can be rectified (i use the term loosely) with different punctuation. Perhaps. It seems to create discord in me while reading the poem. As if this line were one white thread on a dark blue carpet. Sorry to be so ambiguous. I have a headache but wanted to critique this poem. bon chance S.M. Tealle

I am sorry, I am lost. I love the play on words, but I admit, I do not understand this write, or was this your intention. What did come into mind is, the past, turn back time, relive? Really sorry, dear Espen. I am confused. Love to you and yours. Lyz. XX

The one thing that stands out for me is that hate (and other emotions) are learned responses, usually from parents. But I'm with Lyz on this one, I'm a bit confused and will wait for your explanation. Always, Cat

Just re read, you are a bugger, I am still confused except for your comments. Now, were we born of, with or a learning of hate?, Oh look, I give up and I slap you lots. Lol. Love from the much confused Oz girl who gives you a frustrated, Aarrgh. Lol. Lyz, XX.

I love your mischievous grin next to this poem that has confused many a fellow poet. I'm curious to see whether I "get" it (not meaning to be a spoilsport, though). The first stanza is like a mantra, someone is talking to themself in their head: We can get hurt. We can get hurt by being judged, by our own clumsiness, by trying in vain to cross a border we'd better left alone in the first place. We try to protect ourselves (sharpen our nails), to forget about our losses, to protect ourselves against future loss, we use hate as a weapon, yet we must learn to abandon hate and to become whole again, to trust again as we used to back when we were little (also, rediscover, unbury our inner child, maybe?). And then, in stanza 2, snap! time moves on again, our someone is back and experiences rain, love (and other things that are left unmentioned here). This is probably waaay off the mark, but that's what I got from this read. Interesting form, by the way, but not exactly easy on your readers ;) Yours, ~Nina