tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post6705648352895212860..comments2024-03-18T12:57:23.556-04:00Comments on Shay's Word Garden (Poetry & Such Like): Miss LonelyFireblossomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07040525704916368792noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-77356949448888780652017-03-22T01:25:45.140-04:002017-03-22T01:25:45.140-04:00Holy cow! And wow! I am incoherent with admiration...Holy cow! And wow! I am incoherent with admiration of your utter lack of incoherence!Rosemary Nissen-Wadehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05913841031559499568noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-56411994043097518312017-03-21T01:04:48.176-04:002017-03-21T01:04:48.176-04:00There seems to be a lot of people licking tombston...There seems to be a lot of people licking tombstones these days and want to conform your tongue and spirit to live with them.Susie Clevengerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09239990133754328967noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-15471958886057902742017-03-20T10:39:34.636-04:002017-03-20T10:39:34.636-04:00Your 'graveyard' lady reminds me of a neig...Your 'graveyard' lady reminds me of a neighbour whose garden backs onto mine...<br />Love your close!<br />Kind regards<br />Anna :o]hyperCRYPTICalhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11967085628384237933noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-74586372108605048032017-03-20T05:56:14.859-04:002017-03-20T05:56:14.859-04:00I love the way you worked your lists (the anaphora...I love the way you worked your lists (the anaphora used to good purpose) and the juxtaposition between the two points has the kind of cynical humour I have come to look for in your poetry.<br />Stellar stuff!Kerry O'Connorhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00720862912375945249noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-12815620741015928202017-03-20T05:02:23.110-04:002017-03-20T05:02:23.110-04:00These two spirits are kin o' the night wind, k...These two spirits are kin o' the night wind, kine of the moon, home where the art is, leaping.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-64038653617775614942017-03-20T03:13:11.468-04:002017-03-20T03:13:11.468-04:00sharply felt ~sharply felt ~grapelinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14929030339206629628noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-77139792045855511312017-03-19T22:20:58.293-04:002017-03-19T22:20:58.293-04:00This is so sharp, times two.This is so sharp, times two.Jennifer Wagnerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04344877737695801883noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-63838248569806944682017-03-19T16:17:51.745-04:002017-03-19T16:17:51.745-04:00Girl! Your poetry always amazes me. I love the ti...Girl! Your poetry always amazes me. I love the tie-in to the Dylan song.Lynnhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13984802196897920610noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-50872982263631729852017-03-19T15:40:50.781-04:002017-03-19T15:40:50.781-04:00This has bite. Words that slap us into a new consc...This has bite. Words that slap us into a new consciousness.Fantastic.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-73721415384389456792017-03-19T15:38:38.817-04:002017-03-19T15:38:38.817-04:00Loneliness is indeed like a knee bloodied on purpo...Loneliness is indeed like a knee bloodied on purpose. I used to think I was a loner, but now I know I'm just another lonely person.Bekkie Sanchezhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16300001421561443693noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-34129000590801491782017-03-19T13:09:39.624-04:002017-03-19T13:09:39.624-04:00The image of scraping a knee bloody is just too pe...The image of scraping a knee bloody is just too perfect. (And anything inspired by Dylan is alright with me.)Sioux Roslawskihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17924021828536277618noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-64883623110461032482017-03-19T13:06:19.011-04:002017-03-19T13:06:19.011-04:00Argh. Your closing made my knees ache. That's ...Argh. Your closing made my knees ache. That's damn good writing.Sherry Blue Skyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01926508656571639801noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-21721787486488993742017-03-19T12:01:08.867-04:002017-03-19T12:01:08.867-04:00that mouth of yours...always had a tongue like a s...that mouth of yours...always had a tongue like a sword? you've more than likely learned to sheathe the thing every now and again since you had a blood price to pay. bluup, bluup, bluup. i'm glad you can speak loud and clear with poetryAngiehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11413074557542736813noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-59052208457760982692017-03-19T12:00:00.155-04:002017-03-19T12:00:00.155-04:00Excellent depiction of the bottomless pit life can...Excellent depiction of the bottomless pit life can be... I got to think of Elinor Rigby reading your poem too... brudberghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12563403553536472377noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-53248581701291906952017-03-19T10:39:33.720-04:002017-03-19T10:39:33.720-04:00Do you know how easily your title jumps itself int...Do you know how easily your title jumps itself into "Missile Only"?<br /><br />Most excellent work ...<br /><br />"I live in a shoe box that rides on top of a train car going through a tunnel."<br /><br />"She made a weird face and walked away down the block."<br /><br />that whole next stanza<br /><br />the one after that ... insanely good; scraping your own knee, why that image takes this poem up like a thousand notches <br /><br /><br />I think people who seem to live nowhere actually live everywhere, in places you might never think.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107838361391025851.post-37522989377951502102017-03-19T10:14:19.827-04:002017-03-19T10:14:19.827-04:00yeah going to the finest schools and all only lead...yeah going to the finest schools and all only leads some to dipsomania--but poetry like this will cure anything. Every line is a slap to convention, and an illustration of how to inject life into static images and stereotypes(ie, the whole 'where do you live' conversation)Really gnaws on every homey trope with its sharp little teeth. I love the exploding appliances.hedgewitchhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13090696134322515899noreply@blogger.com