Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Owl

A bird of prey that glides with grace: so slow
is she. The mice are cars below this plane.
The shrews flee too. Her chest is white like snow.
Her claws rip through the night. She's inhumane.

2 comments:

  1. There are some fantastic moments in this poem. I like the alliteration in Line 1, and the wonderful metaphor in Line 2. I especially like the first sentence in Line 4 - very powerful, original and impressive indeed.

    You also manage the iambic rhythm perfectly, including with polysyllabic vocabulary as I mentioned last time. Well done.

    Between Lines 1 and 2, you have used enjambement - a tricky technique you manage well. My only issue with it here is that, in order to fit the rhythm, you have inverted the syntax to create something quite archaic and awkward. Be careful with that.

    The only other area for improvement is the short sentences elsewhere. Their brevity makes it seem a little jumpy and disjointed to me, but I'll see what the other moderators say...

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  2. Dear Allspark,

    I actually like the short sentences very much as to me they echo very well how birds of prey operate. First they wait and your enjambement in line 1 creates that slow wait. The subsequent short sentences accelerate the rhythm just like when the owl has finally made its mind up and attacks its prey!

    Works for me. :)

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