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My stories have been read times317 of my 3,295 comments have been voted Great Feedback with a total of 322 votes
317 of my comments have received 322 Great Feedback votes
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Can't stop laughing at chair
Posted on Wed, 10 Jun 2015
Can't stop laughing at chair under your arm. Adore the way you put words on the page.
The cemetery is the strangest place where celebrations take place amongst tears and old relics and precious mementoes which fade even as we hold them. I always find the spinning windmills and gnomes absurdly comforting. Your format is in...
Brilliantly composed. Inherently sad - immediate thought was how does society justify kids carrying the can for parents - very approachable poetry too.
Adored this. Beautifully done. Can picture the process of how he/she got bones to plate artfully, the deft knife along lines of flight. I saw euthanasia in it. You've restrained emotion, made it procedural, which gives it so much more than you...
'It' is conveyed in such a loathsome way. The words fall off the tongue, loaded with assonance and quickly barked bitter. Made me think of Voldemort. He shall not be. A poem to be heard in a room full of listeners. The flip over is deft, Bee, you...
This is really good. A mythically mad minefield of sex and drugs, nightmares and capitalist dreams. Something Chaucerian about it in a more explicit way.
You've nailed Sunday Night Syndrome and made it so much more final with death. Very well done. I thought Sundays were just full of fly-stamped joints and stained uniforms in my childhood.
Can't stop laughing at chair
Posted on Wed, 10 Jun 2015
Can't stop laughing at chair under your arm. Adore the way you put words on the page.
Read full commentPosted in My visit to a shrink Part 02
I love this. It's candid,
Posted on Wed, 10 Jun 2015
I love this. It's candid, sharply written, self deprecating and analytical. Welcome to ABC Tales and shout if you're not sure of anything.
Read full commentPosted in My visit to a shrink Part 02
The cemetery is the strangest
Posted on Sun, 07 Jun 2015
The cemetery is the strangest place where celebrations take place amongst tears and old relics and precious mementoes which fade even as we hold them. I always find the spinning windmills and gnomes absurdly comforting. Your format is in...
Read full commentPosted in Dust
Brilliantly composed.
Posted on Wed, 03 Jun 2015
Brilliantly composed. Inherently sad - immediate thought was how does society justify kids carrying the can for parents - very approachable poetry too.
Read full commentPosted in SOUND
What a gorgeously constructed
Posted on Tue, 02 Jun 2015
What a gorgeously constructed tribute and 'a lot alive.' Your metaphors for time and the peace of the scene are transporting.
Read full commentPosted in Quietus
Adored this. Beautifully done
Posted on Tue, 02 Jun 2015
Adored this. Beautifully done. Can picture the process of how he/she got bones to plate artfully, the deft knife along lines of flight. I saw euthanasia in it. You've restrained emotion, made it procedural, which gives it so much more than you...
Read full commentPosted in Dull certainty
'It' is conveyed in such a
Posted on Fri, 29 May 2015
'It' is conveyed in such a loathsome way. The words fall off the tongue, loaded with assonance and quickly barked bitter. Made me think of Voldemort. He shall not be. A poem to be heard in a room full of listeners. The flip over is deft, Bee, you...
Read full commentPosted in Exit Stage Left
This brings out psychological
Posted on Sun, 24 May 2015
This brings out psychological torment in a very sharp, clear way. The mind and the relationship play off each other so that your reader feels twisted.
Read full commentPosted in Gave it to the sea
This is really good. A
Posted on Sat, 16 May 2015
This is really good. A mythically mad minefield of sex and drugs, nightmares and capitalist dreams. Something Chaucerian about it in a more explicit way.
Read full commentPosted in Madness Montage
You've nailed Sunday Night
Posted on Thu, 14 May 2015
You've nailed Sunday Night Syndrome and made it so much more final with death. Very well done. I thought Sundays were just full of fly-stamped joints and stained uniforms in my childhood.
Read full commentPosted in A Small Ceasing to Be
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