gary,

always a pleasure to read your work; no exception here. a few observations
below.



To Celebrate a Death:  Lorca

The day they shoot the poet,
we dance around the fountain,
pour spiced wine and drink
until the bookstalls flood,
treason to the people defeated.

***the last line sounds a little ... ummm ... sterile, compared to the rest
of stanza 1 which is so lively and drew me in so well***

The laws passed, he was warned:
No more twisted metaphors,
coded similes, forbidden mysteries.
Only simple eulogies, jingles
and party slogans allowed.

***love the sound of "twisted - similes - mysteries"
while i like WHAT you say in the last two lines, i am not sure about HOW you
do it; it reads a bit too much like something off a list of rules *S* (keep
off the grass, no smoking allowed, no parking anytime) - but that may be
intended, and only my problem :) ***


The celebration lasts through the night,
sure we have cut away the disease -
until we hear a baby cry,
swallows return in spring,
wild lilies bloom along hedgerows.

***i don't think you really need the article at the beginning of the
stanza***

As bull's blood soaks the arena floor,
the sound of ink on paper echoes.

***wonderful couplet, but oh! that last line! it will echo.***


best,

michi



(Federico Garcia Lorca was shot at dawn August 19, 1939 with two
bullfighters and a school teacher.  He was thirty-eight.)


Oct Michael Dean and poems for peace at:
http://gardawg.homestead.com/gardawg.html

*New*  Wild/Eliot  Hyperpoem at:  http://wildhyper.homestead.com/front.html

Poets for Peace.  ¡Poemas sí, balas no!