Hi Christina,

A great deal of self loathig coming through in this. I'm finding more and
more that poems that are not anchored in concrete images tend not to work
too well and I guess your instinct has told you this already, the crap
detector. Having said that this poem does have redeeming features in its
language and the force of the emotion. All I'd say is try and ground it
somewhere.



bw
James




>From: Christina Fletcher <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Sub: On Reflection
>Date: Sat, 11 Dec 2004 05:49:42 EST
>
>I've a little time on my hands for the first time in ages and it's likely
>that I'm churning out rubbish.  If you feel up to reading and commenting,
>please be as brutal as you like.
>bw
>christina
>
>
>         On Reflection
>
>
>A good woman, worse  than a bad man,
>is of  unstable temperament; a  creature
>neither decisive nor  constant,
>more dispirited,  despondent,  impudent,
>shameless and false  than a man.
>
>         Five maladies afflict my  mind:
>indocility,  discontent, slander,  jealousy
>and silliness.  All malice is short to  mine:
>see the  airs I put on: my glancing  eyes,
>how I click the  trappings on my feet,
>my  mincing steps.  Take the skin from my face ---
>
>         you'll see all  loathsomeness.  I'm full of  phlegm,
>stinking,  putrid, excremental stuff  ---
>a wise man avoids me as  he avoids
>bodies  infested with vermin.  Better not to see  me,
>abstain from  speech, keep wide awake...
>
>         Stand at the gate of  Hell.  You'll see
>the  majority who enter are women, each  one
>a wheedling enemy, the  snare of devils.
>The very  thought that I'm a  woman
>makes my wings  droop.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>christina  fletcher