Patricia McLean Patricia's Comments (member since Mar 21, 2010)

Patricia's comments from the ¡ POETRY ! group.

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Nov 07, 2011 06:53PM

233 Intense and powerful.
Nov 07, 2011 06:49PM

233 Joan wrote: "I love Jack Gilbert. Here's one of my favorites.

By Jack Gilbert

Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies
Are not starving someplace, they are starving

Extraordinary. Thanks for posting this.
Nov 07, 2011 06:16AM

233 The Habit of Rainy NIghts Press hosts poetry readings every second Tuesday at Milepost 5 -- 900 NE 81st Ave, Portland, OR. Readings begin at 7:30 in EAT Cafe performance space. November reading will feature Anya Pearson and A. Molotkov. Open mic follows. (November's reading will be held in the gallery).
Nov 06, 2011 07:57PM

233 There is a journal of indigenous writing called Yellow Medicine Review. Very much worth checking out. Not sure if anyone mentioned Joy Harjo or Ralph Salisbury, two really great Native American voices.
Aug 24, 2011 05:31AM

233 Sophia--Logan is doing you a disservice. I'm so grateful that people don't pull their punches with me when I asked for critique. I might never have developed beyond merely writing my thoughts down, or merely being clever. I would never have worked so hard for so long to create poetry that actually works. I am still working hard at it. Poetry is work. It's not writing down your thoughts as if no one had those thoughts before. They have. Listen to the voices who respect your desire to grow as a poet.
233 Horse Blind

Watching her in the saddle, boys talk
about the horn, its shape in her hand,

balls of her feet on stirrups, she sets
a rhythm, up and down

bareback astride boys talk about bone rising
out of withers, hard against the horse’s skin

her fist clutches a handful of mane
her legs squeeze around gelding’s ribs

smelling sun hot on a his slick
summer coat crinkly with sweat

beads rolling down his bony face
skin twitching off deer flies

ears rotating to catch a rush
of wings, click and buzz of insects.

his snort and grumble, an excited whinney
you can feel between your thighs

thud of hooves in dust, cloud behind you
muscles powering, coarse mane hair

flicking in your face full gallop like some crazed
pony express rider chasing time across flat desert floor

his velvet nose and flat yellow teeth
taking up oats from the palm

of your hand so gently
it could be a kiss
Sep 20, 2010 06:50AM

233 Jacob wrote: "Mockingjay wrote: "Jacob wrote: "Jacob wrote: "Jacob wrote: "Mockingjay wrote: "No offense anyone but I like Diane more than Jefferson, and Jacob, and rose."

What you mean is, "Diane doesn't make ..."

Vulgarity -- the vulgar languages -- non-Latin. The invader, conqueror's hegemony. We're still buying it, aren't we? Even when Latin is regarded a dead language.
233 Diane--That is an interesting point of view. I do consider myself a feminist and do not regard the battle as having been won. Thousands of years of oppression cannot be overcome in a few score years. Most, if not all, power struggles are never over. I can make no assumptions about you and your life, where you live, how you live, what you have learned, or your experiences. I can only speak from my own knowledge gained as I work on a daily basis with people who suffer due to imbalances of power and indifference and blatant cruelty. I work with families who have lost their housing. I have to say that at least 40% of these families have experienced domestic violence. I could carry this on, but I'm a little tired right now and I'm feeling angry.
233 At first I was surprised and honored to have my poem selected as a finalist. Fortunately, a couple of you have pointed out that this month's poems were so dismal that you weren't going to bother voting at all. Saved me from getting puffed up. Whew! That was a close one.
233 Gravity

Around her pole, an Angel revolving
flutters her broken hands and speaks,
as if this world is not dissolving.

Red-haired Angel stopped in flight
says it wasn’t always my way to tweak
around this pole, an Angel revolving.

She holds her hand against my light.
Would you have known me sister
before this world began dissolving?

Scars are forming on her wrists
where surgeon’s scalpel kissed her.
Around a pole, an Angel revolving

folds her hands into bony fists
and says tomorrow will be better
as if her world were not dissolving.

She’s paid her dues and she resists
the diagnosis that was sent her.
As if this world is not dissolving
around her pole, an Angel revolving.
Jul 19, 2010 05:49PM

233 You have to throw those Australian poems really, really hard to get them all the way to America. Then you have to break through our arrogance. But you've been doing a good job of it. Thanks to your for posting links to poets like John Kinsella.
Jul 18, 2010 09:51AM

233 Plumburst is the one that rocked me. Great stuff.
Jul 17, 2010 07:51PM

233 The Highwayman was one of my favorites as a child and still really grips me. It is so visual and has such great suspense.
Haikus for you?? (32 new)
Jun 24, 2010 06:55PM

233 Let's hear it for the Aussies. Will the US be the last country on earth to elect a female to the highest office?
Fire and Ice. (809 new)
Jun 14, 2010 06:27AM

233 That's the trouble with a hatchet. Even when it's buried, it is not forgotten.
Fire and Ice. (809 new)
Jun 13, 2010 10:01AM

233 I'm interested in people's take on the use of language in this poem by William Stafford:

In the All-Verbs Navaho World
"The Navaho world is made of verbs"

Left-alone grow-things wait, rustle-grass, click-
trunk, whisper-leaf. You go-people miss the hold-still
dawn, arch-over sky, the jump-everywhere glances.
This woman world, fall-into eyes, reaches out her
makes-tremble beauty, trolls with her body, her
move-everything walk. All-now, our breathe-always
life extends, extends. Change. Change your live-here,
tick-tock hours. Catch all the flit-flit birds,
eat the offer-food, ride over clop-clop land,
our great holds-us-up, wear-a-crown kingdom.
Fire and Ice. (809 new)
Jun 12, 2010 01:39PM

233 That is a gorgeous poem.
Jun 11, 2010 05:52AM

233 I'm looking forward to it.
Jun 10, 2010 07:46PM

233 Thanks. Do you have any thoughts about the one above?

And something else beside
together on the side
the side also
line by line
parallel lines
railroad tracks
the ties between
space and the ties
between grief and
what ties together
what is blown apart
ties together beside
the thing wrath
blown apart
pieces tied
additional arms
and ammunition
risk and damage
acceptable risk
damage on
the side
line by line
walls of defense
house walls
in the time
in space
pieces of
mirror cars
accidental weapon
incidental ordnance
subordinate death under
subordinate beside the target
unwelcome incidental
terror on the side
outside the
walls inside
and imposed
above down
down rising up,
uprising a shell
blooming flowers,
petals scattering
beside along the
side of everyone
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