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<3!!
EVA!!
I loved the contrast of cuteness, and happiness, and the joy of being reunited with family in the first stanza with the melancholy of the second! You paint such a vivid picture of the little girl and her apple basket – I could so easily visualise the little girl and her unbalancingly large basket sitting on her auntie’s shoulders, and it’s the sweetest thing to imagine!
I particularly loved how you focussed on the child unabashedly talking, without fear of not being understood, and how that must be reflective of her feeling at home, and welcomed, and part of something, and then pick that aspect up again in the second stanza, with the little girl now grown up, and “hearing without/ understanding”, and the main character not feeling at home any longer. That’s such a sad thing to think, and especially well executed with the switch in pronouns, from ‘she’ to ‘I’, like they’re two completely different people, which just conveys the main character’s sense of alienation so well!
And the contrast (again, I know!) between that glorious, detailed and vibrant description of the apples in the first line with the simple ‘apple corpse’ brilliantly conveys that disenchantment and loss of wonder between the child and the adult!
This was such a wonderful, sad, read; thank you for sharing something so personal!
Love, Julia <3
Hi, Eva. I'm here for the CMDC, round #3
We were talking just about this in the car today. About half of the languages spoken in the world are in danger of being extinct, at the rate of about one every two weeks-The victim of globalization.
I love the reference to the hands-gentle and loving but still a sieve through which water (or language) slips through. I can just imagine the pain of the author as she (he?) watches the language disappear. For the water, one can squeeze the fingers together as tight as possible but it’s never enough and the liquid is eventually gone between the cracks. For the language, the parallels are the same as if one doesn’t speak it, it is lost. Also like the water, there might still be a little bit at the bottom of the hand, for I’m sure the author learned some of the language from the mother, but it won’t be enough to pass it on. A language is one generation away from death and all this author can do is stand by and watch it.
As I read this, I do wonder why the author didn’t learn the language as a child? Was it the mother never taught it or there was no one else to practice/immersion or another possibility.
Lovely poem--very moving.
Hey there, Eva! :) Omg it's been way way waaaaay too long since I read any of your poetry! Good thing I'm here now to rectify that :P
So poetry is gonna be a hotly contested category this year, damn :P This is just such a good poem - I love the way it tapers off to the end, with the lines getting shorter and shorter, in a real physical evocation of what it's like to forget words or struggle with another language, finding less and less that you know of it and perhaps feeling out of place with it - it's not really yours, a bit clumsy and incompetent and never as good as you should be or could be (or want to be).
I lovelovelove your metaphors in this, too. Water is such a clever thing to use to symbolise words - it fits so well! it flows, it breaks, it can be fast and slow, deep and shallow, it can come in bursts and in floods - ugh it just works so well. And as the narrator finds, it can sort of trickle away and vanish, just stop coming altogether, which is such a heartbreaking thing - the way the narrator can see the ocean, vast and beautiful and great, and she's still over where she is, almost bleeding out words from her mother's language - all that knowledge just vanishing and going. Ugh, that really got me as well, because it's hard to learn a language? Especially if you didn't grow up hearing it all the time and using it so frequently, and I have friends who have struggled with that - and others who haven't been bothered by not being able to speak to half of their family. Me, I don't have family who speak another language, but I love languages and I'd love to be fluent, and sometimes learning feels like a Sisyphean feat, yk, always rolling back down to have to start a bit again:/ And if that's how it is for me, when I do this for fun and ambition, how much must it hurt when you feel a real, personal connection to the language - when there's people and a culture you can access through it which mean something super personal and important to you? Because language is never just words, is it - it's more than that?
Omg I love the language you use in this as well - you always choose the perfect words for something in every phrase, and it shows here so so well. I love the phrase 'meandering waltz', and 'clear-calm water' - it's such beautiful language, so delicate and finely spun. It's something I love about all your writing, but I think it comes to the fore in your poetry. Your metaphors and your imagery are so sweet and so clever and so emotional - there's a real honest, rawness to it which I love.
Ahhh my god, this is the kind of poem that's going to stay with me for a while - it's so emotional and so thought-provoking and I love that about it. I know it's personal to you, and you write from the heart when you do your poetry and it's so wonderful - gentle and open and with a real depth to it which I love.
I'm so so glad I got to read this, even if it doesn't make it any easier to choose who to vote for :P
Laura xx
Here for CMDC round 2
EVA <33333 Hi, sweetie!
This is STUNNING. I'm not surprised. I always enjoy your poetry. But tis was was special in its own unique way, hcih you always manage to do somehow. *swoon*
The literal story here is lovely. I actually have a fond memory of apple picking with my girl scout troop as a child, and I can absolutely understand how bouyant an loving this moment would feel. On the othe hand, you contrast that warmth against the cool isolation of the second stanza. It's a beautiful contrast, even if it's sad. Connection vs isolation; sun vs shadow (you don't say that but it feels that way); life beginning contrasted with the death of the apple.
On that note don't even get me started on the phrase "toeing an apple corpse fading" because I might wax poetic about it for a year and then dress it up in garlands and throw it a parade. IT IS SO PERFECT in all the ways. It's a concrete "plot" for the poem, but also enourmously symbolic, and the language is beautiful. *Waves Banners*
Actually, even though that line is my VERY MOST FAVORITE, all the language is beautiful. Seriously, it's beautiful. I don't know how to articulate it better.
My other most favorite thing about this poem is the way it magically unfolds from the smallest thing, 3 small apples, noticed in isolation, into a larger and larger image of the scene. From the apples, we move to the child who holds them, and then farther out to the auntie and the tree, and then the orchard, and a distant fsmily, and finally across the ocean. It is so artful and lovely to flow through that. There's thi sort of magical expanding of the world, similar to what a child experiences, in the first stanza, and then a stony return, a no longer familiar tongue. I do think things that seem so magical in memory can often pale in comparrsion when we see them again as adults. But of course there are other layers to this woven in with the immigrant experience and distance from family that make it extra powerful.
I didn't expect anything mind blowing when i opened this because apples, you know? But I truly love it. You are magical <3
xoxo Renee
Hi Eva! I’m here for CMDC Round 2 :D
So much to love about this poem! First of all, the way it’s laid out on the page—I really love it when poets spend time and care thinking about what sort of visual impact they can make with their poem.
Next, the image of water flowing through someone’s hands. However tightly we cup our hands together, water is still going to escape—and I love how you use this image to explain the feeling of losing a language that is no longer used enough to be remembered. And you take that image further! Because not only is the language—like the water—slipping through the poet’s fingers—BUT that language is flowing back to its homeland—like it belongs there and it will revert back there. Like the language is a solid, living thing, that can escape from a person in order to go home in the person cannot feed it and care for it through use.
But I believe that the poet can call the language back—just as she can refill her hands with more water—when the time is right.
This is a wonderful collection! I’ll be eagerly awaiting more updates :D
Yours,
Noelle
Hi Eva! I’m here for CMDC Round 2 :D
I feel like there is a lot going on in this poem. On the textual level, you’ve chosen some wonderful words to describe all the bouncing and bumping that the child is experiencing as she rides on her auntie’s shoulders through the apple orchard. It’s a lovely rhythm of autumn, all falling leaves and falling fruit and warmth contrasted with the chill in the air. I particularly liked some of the internal rhymes you did, as well as the use of alliteration/consonance within the lines.
But then—this contrast at the second part of the poem! Now we’re in first person, and the poet is recalling her childhood days and wondering where she belongs—and the poem seems bleaker and colder. A sharp contrast to the sunny beginning.
The image of the apple corpse was particularly vivid.
Lovely job!
Yours,
Noelle
Hi Eva! I’m here for CMDC Round 2 :D
This sonnet made me laugh! I love how you’ve taken this form and written a love poem extolling the virtues of a cat. I also really liked the way that you stretched words across the lines to conform to the meter—and how you managed to do that in such a way to maintain the rhyme scheme! It was clever, and it also made the poem seem more modern to me in that way—because the lines kept going across like a much longer sentence, if that makes sense?
And all the things that you highlighted from the cat’s many charms—her teeth, her claws, her penchant for cleanliness, her hoarding of special things, her animal instinct—all so lovely! And you manage to capture that sinewy grace that is a cat.
The final couplet is demure, dainty, ferocious, and adorable.
Lovely job!
Yours,
Noelle
Hi Eva! I’m here for CMDC Round 2 :D
This poem gave me chills! My assumption is that you wrote it for Our Lady of Notre Dame in Paris after it suffered that awful fire.
I love how you spoke about Our Lady as though she were a person, and described all of the intricate details of the cathedral architecture to clothing that a queen would wear. I also loved the way that the afternoon light that would have illuminated the amazing stained glass windows became the blush on Our Lady’s cheeks here. There is something so amazingly special about the way the afternoon light slants into a church.
I really appreciated how you talked about her crown—or the roof—being destroyed. It is so sad and was quite a tragedy. But I think we may have hope, even though the end of this poem is wondering whether or not Our Lady can be brought back. Many amazingly beautiful churches were built on the ashes of an accidental fire that destroyed their predecessors. And while the newer church might never be quite the same as the old, it can still be different, and it can still be beautiful.
Thank you for writing this!
Yours,
Noelle
Hi Eva! I’m here for CMDC Round 2 :D
Haiku is a poetry form that can be as playful or as meaningful as the writer—and the reader—want to make it. One of my favorite things about the way you’ve handled these three little poems is the way that you carefully laid them out on the page. The layout of the lines makes me already think of a spiral—perhaps the spiral of the fibonacci sequence itself! And again, your careful word choice evokes this idea of spiraling.
In the second poem about the bees and spring, the way that it rides on the first poem, makes me think of pollen spiraling through the air—or maybe a lazy honeybee spirling through the air. I giggled at the sneeze.
And the sneeze coming back in the final poem—as baby’s first blessing—oh my heart, is there anything more precious than a sweet baby sneeze? Maybe a baby laugh…but a sneeze is a close second. And the way that you compared all the special things that a baby will do; at an unknown time and small in and of themselves; to the first snow—which is always unexpected—this was so precious!
Yours,
Noelle
Hi Eva! I’m here for CMDC Round 2 :D
You have really delved into the way that words sound in this poem. The way that you have strung together the words that you chose to put in this poem is so evocative. I feel like I can see the fairies dancing, even before you introduce them by name in the poem.
I also like how you play around with near-rhyme. The ends of each line are almost ABAB, but most of them are just slightly different—but in a dreamy sort of way that fits in so well with all the fairy imagery in the poem.
Even the title seems to set up this shimmery sort of fairyland—gossamer is surely the perfect word to use to describe a fairy wing.
I find myself curious as to what the newly born being is that the fairy in this poem is singing to. At first I thought it was a baby fairy—but then I wondered if it was actually something more abstract, like a dream itself. Is the fairy singing in some slumbering human’s imagination, singing a dream into life?
A lovely start to this collection!
Yours,
Noelle
I think haiku is very difficult, because you're trying to convey something meaningful or clever in a minimal amount of words. I think you've succeeded. The last line of "spring" is nostalgic and quirky, and "blessing" warms my heart and made me fully smile.
Melanie
Excellent example of personification, regal style befitting the subject of the poem. It almost makes me cry reading this, remembering how heartbreaking this was. Such a lovely tribute and lament. <3
Melanie
I'm here for your review request, and I have read all six of these poems and loved them! You are a modern-day classic poet, and your style and language are evocative of times long ago when people wrote timeless poetry with enduring themes.
Despite having studied poetry in school and majored in literature, I am probably not the right person to meaningfully critique poetry. But I can recognize a beautifully crafted string of words that make the reader feel something. All of your poems I've read in this collection make me feel something, rather than just showing me images. And I love that they're all in a different stye.
This one in particular, "language lost in drops of time," makes me feel introspective along with the narrator. It's wistful and maybe a little guilt-ridden. Is the language an obscure one that has generally fallen out of use in the community/world, or is it that the narrator didn't practice her mother's language enough and now she can't remember it? Either way, I feel her frustration and regret. The variation in the length of the lines, and how they grow shorter towards the end, seems like a metaphor for the loss of fluency.
I will probably go sprinkle a couple smaller reviews for the other ones I really enjoyed. :)
Thank you for sharing these!
Melanie
Hi Eva! Here for the HC opener (and because I think this poem was being edited the first time I read this collection).
I know you said this was originally a riddle, but I think given the title, it's fairly easy to work out what this poem is about. Unless you wrote it before the fire at Notre Dame in Paris, in which case, I think you might be a witch and how did you know :P (Please know that the rest of my review will be based on the assumption that this is the subject of the poem.)
Opening with 'Our Lady' was really interesting, because it immediately laid out two of the possible interpretations of this poem - one as, literally, Our Lady/Mary, and the other as the cathedral personified as Our Lady. I actually loved the use of personification in this poem, and the way that you described the cathedral, and the different details about it that people admired and revered - the 'bodice' and the 'intricate lace' were images that really stood out to me here. I think it captures the beauty of Notre Dame cathedral so well, particularly with the intricacies of its style, and it's a really intriguing insight into the way that people talk about the cathedral building and the physical aspects that they fix upon.
(I don't know if this was intentional, but there's also a really intriguing history of allegorising the Catholic Church as female, as well as the body politic of France being portrayed as female, so the French/historical nerd in me here is practically flailing over your use of allegory in this poem and the way you've personified the cathedral as the figure of Our Lady.)
The description in this piece was, as ever, really beautiful. The 'sundown blushing' was such a perfect image, and I thought that the colours that sunset evoked segued so well into the images of burning as the cathedral was on fire.
The ending of this poem was quite bleak, in a way. Again, I thought it was really interesting that there was such conviction at the end of this that the life and essence of the Notre Dame could not be rebuilt or regained; while it's true that what was lost can't be regained, it was an interesting perspective on whether the cathedral can ever be as beautiful or as alive again as it once was. Once more, I'm not sure if it was intentional, but I thought that ending could maybe be read as a statement about the Catholic Church as an institution itself, as well, which added an entirely new layer of complexity to this poem. This was so intriguing, and I'm really glad I got a chance to read it!
Sian :)
Hi! Here to leave you a review!
Hm. I'm usually good at riddles but I can't puzzle this one out. I loved the language used in this, though. It's short, but really packs in a lot of imagry and well done phrases. I especially love the end and how it really took a turn in the overall feel of the piece. It flows so well into it as well.
A great piece, Eva! I'll have to read your other poetry some tme. :)
Evaaaa. <3 I'm so delighted that you requested a review from me on this collection--I knew immediately which poem I wanted to review hehe. I was already intending to review it since I've been thinking about it nearly constantly from the moment that I read it, but it was so good to get an excuse to review it earlier rather than later :P
You should know that this put me in full AP-English-mode. I literally got out my notebook and wrote down the poem and everything and started marking it up. And I still think there's parts of it that I'm not fully getting, but everything that I saw and connected...oh man. This is nothing short of masterful.
First off, I just want to say that this poem has a very poetic quality. I guess that should be kind of a given but I don't really think it is haha. (For example, I feel like a lot of my own poetry doesn't really have this quality). Reading this poem, I sort of felt I was reading something in a different language, truer than any socially constructed language--'heart-speak' or something like that. I've read very few poems that seem to speak my soul and heart so perfectly as this does, so I'm honestly in awe reading it.
As for the actual poem itself: wow. This is such a well-constructed poem. I'm especially amazed at how you wielded structure/syntax. I think you understand very well how poetry can be different from prose, how the ability to interrupt lines can add extra meaning. For example, I loved how you separated "a thousand" and "miles" in the last two stanzas. The distance in the stanzas kind of emphasized the far-awayness of the language-river's home, and it just struck me profoundly.
I also really loved how you used hyphens, especially in the first line of the second stanza: "No matter--the water escapes--". The hypens interrupt the sentence and thus the effort to hold onto the language, which mirrors how the speaker tries to hold onto the water and yet it slips away. I think that was just so clever, and I loved it. I don't know if this was intentional, but I also noticed that the stanzas grew shorter and shorter, like the words were slipping away gradually, and idk, I just loved that detail too.
And your imagery. You're so so good at imagery. I already knew this, but I think it was abundantly clear in this fic especially. I just love the metaphor of language as a water slipping through your fingers, and I especially loved how you described the inevitability of it slipping away: "a meandering waltz", "drift[ing] through holes from years' disuse". I was really struck by the metaphor of language as a river, because rivers tend towards the ocean always, and there's no stopping that.
My most favorite image associated with the inevitability of the loss of language was the description of it as "unavoidable like a forgotten / memory." A forgotten memory feels oxymoronic and yet, it just...clicked in my heart. The gradual degradation of that precious memory, another thing that I can't stop at all. I'm also struck by that especially hard because language shouldn't be a memory, a thing of the past.
The image that struck me most was the contrasting image of the speaker's fingers locked in a cage, "a clasped small box with cracks, no key." It was such a striking image in my head. With the cracks the language can still escape, but without a key, there's no way for the speaker to hold onto the language. It felt kind of greedy, like a dragon protecting its gold, and I felt that in my heart. I think I'm pretty posessive over what I understand/speak of Hindi, especially given that I don't speak Hindi on a daily basis.
The ending of a poem is so important, and the ending of this peom in particular is so well done. I loved the separation of "my weeping / palms." So much of the imagery around the speaker is focused on the palms grasping the water, and this line evoked an image of the speaker's weeping face. And then the word "palms" by itself--it sort of made me think of empty palms. No words after palms, because there's nothing left to hold onto. It was fascinating.
In terms of concrit, I don't really have much to offer (and I don't think I'm really in the position to provide concrit because you're miles better at poetry than I am haha :P). The only thing that I can think of was there was a slight inconsistency in the metaphor around the language-river: sometimes, you described it as "meandering" like a river, and sometimes you described it as "drifting", as if through the air. They're just two different descriptions that evoked very different images in my head. I could easily see "drifts" being replaced by filtering--and then you could also more explictly talk about why the language has been so disused. But obviously this is such a minor criticism and honestly, there's additional nuance brought by uisng the word "drifts"--like you lose the language to the earth in more than just one way. (But I do think if that's the intended meaning, then you should lean into that just a little bit more).
I realize I haven't actually discussed my personal feelings about this poem that much, sorry :P I'm still trying to process my emotions, because I know all too well how it feels to lose a language. I really loved how you described it as your "mother's language". I think that phrase captures the nuance of an entity that is simultaneously abstracted as your "mother language" and so integral to daily life, as the language your mother, a real concrete person, talks to you in. (I don't know if your mother only speaks to you in Chinese, but mine basically speaks to me in Hindi so that line struck me especially hard). I think that line in particular touched upon why it's so hard to lose a language that you're supposed to be fluent in, because it's not just losing the language, it's losing your culture--and more concretely, a connection to your parents. (I would've loved if you leaned into this more in the poem too, but of course a single poem can't do everything all at once).
idk, I think after reading this poem I just had to sit and mourn a little. I do get a sense of comfort/catharcism from reading it, because you've worded so perfectly what I've never been able to express myself. I've already bookmarked this poem so I can return to it, to bottle up this feeling. Thie poem is just so emotionally raw, like all of your poetry, and I appreciate it so much.
Ahhhh I feel like this review has been entirely too disorganized and vague. Sorry. I'm just...still processing. I really, really loved this poem. I think you're honestly a natural-born poet. Every time I read your poetry, I learn something new about how to write poetry.
Okay that's enough from me. Thank you so much for requesting a review and giving me a chance to drop by this poem sooner rather than later. I love it so much, and I hope I've given my review of it even half the amount of thought you put into crafting it.
<3 Shreya
Hey there!
I'm here to drop you a review for the House Cup Finale 2019! I'm sad that this is the last one in this collection. I could easily spend the rest of my day reading your poems.
Ok. I've declared it. This one definitely has to be my favorite. As with the poem in the chapter previous, I feel a strong resonance with this one. I think a lot of people who are first or second generation citizens struggle with this feeling of sort of being in between. You refer specifically to language here, but it could parallel a lot of different cultural aspects.
I love the way you compared holding on to a disused language to holding water in your hands. It's such an accurate and infuriating description. I can really feel the frustration and sadness in the main character's futile attempts to hold on.
I think what you did structurally is also really cool. As the words start to escape the main character, the line length and verse length gets smaller and smaller until it too has trickled away across the ocean leaving the main character almost wordless. It really adds a unique effect to the piece.
I feel like I've rambled a lot here and hopefully at least a bit of it makes sense. This is a incredibly poignant, moving poem and I don't have adequate words. Great work. This will definitely be going on my list of things to nominate for FROGs next year.
~Kaitlin
Hey there!
I'm here to drop you a review for the House Cup Finale 2019! Back for one more!
Ok. Every time I think one of your poems is my favorite, I read the next one and change my mind. This was a really beautiful piece of work and it captured a lot of feelings for me. Though I've never had the experience the main character has had, it resonated very deeply with me. It made me think of a lot of the things I did with my own family members as a child and how much a I miss them as an adult. I think that's why this poem is so brilliant. Its feeing transcends the specific subject of just apple picking.
The last scene where you describe the main character as toeing an apple corpse fading was so eerie and beautiful. It captured so much of what she was feeling in just that one line.
Also, I really enjoyed that you included a reference to a specific dialect in this. I was unfamiliar with it, so when I was finished reading, I went and googled it, so thank you for teaching me about a new place today. ????
As with all of your previous poems, the flow and pacing of this is beautiful. The words trickle smoothly building a larger picture. It's easy to follow and envision everything that is happening.
Good job!
~Kaitlin
Final collection review for the Finale!
This was such an interesting piece to read! I have to admit that I'm not in the same situation at all, as far as my family's concerned (I mean, I have ancestors and relatives not from here but they come from somewhere pretty close and speak the same language, it's not at all the same) but it's so interesting to read about this from the perspective of someone who's lived this? And I can relate on the languages slipping away if you don't get to use them, at least - I know mine are getting worse without practice since my degree, so I can easily imagine that would happen if you're not using one of your languages because of where you're living.
The water metaphor for this situation was so intriguing and apt - I think it really emphasised the impossibility of trying to hold onto something that was never fully in your possession in the first place? It's your culture and your language but if you've grown up in a different place to your parents then no matter how much you try to hold onto their traditions, they're never going to be fully yours because your experiences are mixed in with another culture, another language, another set of traditions. This poem evoked a real sense of longing, of straddling two cultures and almost two people.
Using the water conceit through this poem was really effective as it slipped away into the sea, the ocean - conjuring up images of the great distance and divide between you and the place your mother's from.
The final words, 'weeping palms' were so simple and yet so powerful; I loved the imagery that you used here and the way that last line really captured the sense of sorrow and loss of something you once had but that it was impossible to hold onto. This was a really beautiful use of words and imagery and I loved this poem!
Sian :)
Hey there!
I'm here to drop you a review for the House Cup Finale 2019! Me again, back to review another of your beautiful poems.
This was such an interesting take on a sonnet. I love that you chose to write about cats. Seriously, where do you come up with such creative ideas for your writing? I'm so impressed.
The way that you wrote this really made the cat sound like a much larger creature at first. I imagined a lion hunting antelope or a jaguar slinking through the jungle. You really did a great job of capturing that feline power.
I loved how you also make the actual princess numb to her pet's assassinations of the smaller animals in her kingdom. I mean, I know most people don't give thought to field mice, lizards, and little birds, but it's pretty cruel and cold when you think about it. I guess that is the reality of nature though.
The last two lines about Princess waking from her slumber were so perfect. I could just her rising, stretching her back hips into the air, flicking her tail upwards, and leaping from the bed.
I will say that personally, I find the breaks in words a bit distracting, but that's more of a personal preference on my part. All in all, I thought this was really well written. You really are good at poetry.
Good job!
~Kaitlin
Hey there!
I'm here to drop you a review for the House Cup Finale 2019! Your last poem was so lovely that I just had to come back for another.
I find the haiku style of poetry to be one of the hardest to write. It's so specific in the line length and rhythm and usually so much is said in such a short piece. You did a really good job with it. I like that you chose to tell the story through a series of haikus.
I really thought it was cool how you used the Fibonacci sequence to describe spider webs. That was a brilliant piece of description. And I'm super happy that you included my favorite part of springtime, the bees. Based on your words, I could just see them buzzing from flower to flower, kicking pollen out into the air.
The last haiku with the baby's first sneeze was super cute. Again, such a creative thing to write about and it ties in nicely with the previous haiku about the person sneezing from the allergies.
I really like that so far, the two chapters have been tied together by the focus on nature, season, and even a little child. I wonder if that is mere coincidence or if it will be a running theme throughout! I guess the only way to find out is to head over to the next chapter.
Good job!
~Kaitlin
HC finaleeee!
This was such a beautiful and evocative poem! It really made me think about the different layers to it and the sense of family that it was exploring here. Again, there was so much more to this than the rosy apples that they were collecting in the orchard.
The opening lines were so cute and fun and playful. I could see the images so clearly in my mind, the little girl balancing precariously on her auntie's shoulders as they collect the apples together, a sweet family moment. The sort of fleeting memory that you didn't know you were holding onto from your childhood. The phrase 'ocean-separated land' was so powerful and evocative, too. Using 'ocean' rather than something like 'distant' was really clever - it gives a real sense of the amount of distance separating them, the families and relatives who live so far away from each other. This auntie isn't one who lives close by and spends time with her little niece regularly, but rather I got the image of an extended family who see each other rarely; one branch of the family who's emigrated somewhere, perhaps, and the distance growing between them.
The shift in narrative voice for the last section of the poem really emphasised that, too - the distance that's created by age as well as physical distance, the inability to understand the dialect that once wasn't a barrier, the strangeness in being in a place that once held different memories and associations. It was a really powerful ending and I think it evoked the idea of this sort of family situation really well.
Sian :)
(HC finale.)
Aw, Eva, I absolutely loved this! I'm a Shakespeare fan and I have a soft spot for sonnets, even though I don't think I've written one since primary school, and I loved this one. I think my favourite element about the three of the poems I've read in this collection so far is the way that you twist and subvert our expectations. The titles conjure up one image in our minds before we even read the poem, the first line usually supports that idea - and then you spin it in a different direction and it's so creative and fun to read!
I really loved the plosive alliteration at the beginning of this poem, the 'petulant a princess, prideful is she' line. It created this image in my mind of a proper little princess, someone arrogant and rich... and of course, that arrogance and confidence fits what the subject actually is about, but that subject is very different. A cat called Princess, rather than a member of a royal family :P It was an inventive twist, and I liked the way that you framed it as a love poem to cats.
I also really loved the way that you used the sort of words that might be associated with princesses - 'realms', 'castle', 'queen' - to describe Princess and her actions in this poem, stationing her as the ruler of her own kingdom, in a way. It was really clever!
Sian :)
Hey there!
I'm here to drop you a review for the House Cup Finale 2019! I am always super excited about poetry, so as soon as I saw this in the recent updates, I knew I had to come check it out.
Wow. This is such a beautiful piece. I love the way you wove the imagery of the forest and the fairies. In so few words, you created such a vivid picture. I particularly loved the way you described the light glistening through the dew drops as sunlight diamond ballets. What a clever turn of phrase.
The fairies were a very nice element in this as well. It gives it just a hint of magic without being in your face. And I love that you tie them back into their surroundings by making them dew covered at the end.
At first, I was unsure of who the main character was. Then I thought it was a little girl imagining in her garden. It was really cool how at the end it turned out to be a mother sharing her dreams with her child. I didn't expect that or see it coming and it really gave the whole piece a different feeling.
The flow of this was very nice as well. I think because you kept the line lengths similar it helped It flow really smoothly. Sometimes, I find random sentence breaks to mess flow up, but you really nailed it in this. It all seemed like it stopped and started where it was supposed to.
Good job!
~Kaitlin
More HC finale reviews <3
Ooh, I loved these haikus! There was so much to each of them but I really loved the way that each of them flowed together and linked up from the end of one to the start of the next. It was a really clever series of connections but it never felt forced or awkward, and there's something beautiful in how simple these seemed? Especially when I know how much effort goes into crafting something like this.
The first haiku, fibonacci, was really clever. I'm not a big fan of maths, usually, but I liked the way that you used it to show that there's maths in the beauty of nature; that it's at the foundation of everything and that specific spiral is mathematical and natural and beautiful, becoming flowers.
And of course those flowers feed the bees (I love bees <3) and the image of them dancing around in the spring was lovely and light and happy, and then that's followed by another form of spring. More new life, a little baby emerging into the world. That was another soft and lovely image and I really liked the way that it ended these poems. The 'unexpected' captures what these poems are, in a way - starting with 'fibonacci' made me think they would be about a very different theme, but there was a lot of softness and beauty here.
Sian :)
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