Still waiting : )

Comment is about Fran Isherwood (poet profile)

Original item by Fran Isherwood

thank you lynn

Comment is about ists (blog)

Original item by jeremy young

Beautiful, Nat, this one has such an evocative mood, You've really captured that sense of loss x

Comment is about Regret (blog)

Hats off to Ira.

I am surprised Croft pauses to drop this once-pulped Smokestack collection. Bitter indeed to write after poem after poem in the style of, in the manner of, taken from etc.

Recalling last year, the found plagiarists have talent, and it appears a problem in their over-weaning self belief, I can well believe they steal from other work just to build the body of their work then step by step lose sight of their own folly. Unintentional Appropriation: As ever, poetry conjuring up the best writing and the very worst.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

oh! those memories Patricia! I get what the gist of what the final three lines are aiming at,but if it read-

'although on one nearing day
in unfortunate circumstances
they might.'

might help to clarify?
love it anyway.x

Comment is about Old flames old pains (blog)

Everyone goes thru these but not all can say it so powerfully ! Great Lynn !

Comment is about SOMETIMES (blog)

I've read this piece over and over. Thanks for sharing. Just wonderful.

Comment is about ists (blog)

Original item by jeremy young

I love this piece. Thanks for posting

Comment is about Unfit (blog)

Original item by Someone Somewhere

Again you're welcome Mr Bastard or should that now be Mr Big Ed Bastard? Thank you for your counter comment which was quite unexpected and I too experienced some swelling to the head. x

Comment is about Zach Dafoe (poet profile)

Original item by Zach Dafoe

This is brilliant. Felt as though I was in the room.

Comment is about Vertices (blog)

Original item by Tommy Carroll

Hi Carol. I enjoyed your blog but I do not feel qualified to give any technical opinions. My outlook is just write from the heart and see what comes out and as long as if you enjoy it - do it! Lynn x

Comment is about The Loaded Gun (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

Your posts are so heartfelt. So true. I relate to all you write.

Comment is about Regret (blog)

Thank you, Tommy for the comment. Viva all countries on the globe. Viva love and peace in the whole world. Best wishes, Larisa

Comment is about Tommy Carroll (poet profile)

Original item by Tommy Carroll

Criticism is a double edged sword: we want it - we don't want it. I've been on WOL only a short time but the few conversations I have been involved with have all been extremely useful in helping to develop my own writing. It has also been interesting to see who is writing what. Definitely not personal.

Ka-ching or kerching? The sound of a cash register? The choice is yours. x

Comment is about The Loaded Gun (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

Well posted Larisa. Viva Ukraine viva

Comment is about THE VICTORY DAY (blog)

Original item by Larisa Rzhepishevska

cheers chuck! xx

Comment is about Three downfalls (blog)

Yas!!!! thank you tommy !

Comment is about What is an alcoholic? (blog)

Original item by Autum

Travis! I wrote this poem in 8th grade lol im currently 22. I have lived a very emotional life. and i write out my emotions and thoughts and i also know others have felt my feelings before. Thank you so very much tho. I like to keep people interested!

Comment is about 10 Down to 1 (blog)

Original item by Autum

I am currently editing a children's poetry book which has taken up a lot of time, but when I get the chance I will return to this poem and re-edit then post, might be a number of days though. I really appreciate your feedback, I know that honesty is the best policy, and from experience as a writer it is not good to be too sensitive to criticism especially because it is nearly always not personal I will take a look at your work soon. Good luck with your writing, Colin.

P.S. I am wondering whether if I put kaching instead of kuching would that alter the meaning?

Best wishes, Carol x

Comment is about The Loaded Gun (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

A little bit of anger does you good. I agree Dave.

Comment is about I voted conservative (blog)

Original item by David R Mellor

Comment is about I voted conservative (blog)

Original item by David R Mellor

Cheers Greg - he'll probably go in the Villa end in an Arsenal top with a Spurs flag

Comment is about ASTON VILLA (blog)

Original item by Ben Willems

what a result eh!? 'very much hushed' I wonder?
neat piece mateys.x

Comment is about Three downfalls (blog)

To be clear. She doesn't take the begining and/or end line, she takes the lot!

Come on, let's not afford excuses here. This is not the kind of mistake that comes of writing exercises or workshops. This is whoesale. We need to smell the coffee!

How hard would it be for someone to copy a poets entire work in this manner. Same ideas, same structure, same language, doing nothing more than trading out a few words via a thesaurus, or swapping the position of the odd line. Seriously, c'mon?

To believe that this is a non stop series of mistakes and coincidences is, well, it is frankly ludicrous! The sheer odds, statistically speaking would be staggering.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

great poem David.Space and silence are essential when writing poetry.xx

Comment is about Missing Words (blog)

Original item by David Lindsay

I've decided to remove my Facebook update. Here is all the evidence

Riddle
by VICKI FEAVER

Without you, I prefer the nights;
the darkness inside me

like the darkness around. All day
I am alone with my emptiness:

a white space, with nothing to feed it
but light and shadow.

My claw feet can’t follow you.
I have no voice to call you.

I only know you are near by scents -
orange oil, or lavender - and by a heat

that creeps up my cold skin
and tells me I will feel again

the weight of your body. You have no idea
how wonderful it is to hold you,

to have you lie so still, so happy.
When you move, I hear a whoosh

and you touch me in so many places
I’m trembling and tingling.

It’s spoiled by fear of your going.
Sometimes, I pretend I’m a cradle

for you to sleep in - but you always wake;
or a womb - but you still escape,

leaping out and leaving me.
So next time you come, I’ll be a coffin

filled with chilling water
in which you will stay for ever.

Elise
by SHEREE MACK

You touch me in so many places
I’m left trembling and tingling.

Yet, those feelings are marred by fear.
Without you, I prefer the nights;

the darkness all around, no moon,
is like the darkness inside of me.

All day there are others around me,
but I am alone with my emptiness.

I know you are near by your scent -
polished mahogany, molasses, and by the heat

that creeps up my black skin
and reminds me to feel again,

the weight of your body on mine.
You have no idea how glorious

it is to be chosen by you,
to be held by you.

I have no voice to call you.
I have no right to love you.

Yet, I want to keep you.

https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=LvYVBgAAQBAJ&pg=PA53&lpg=PA53&dq=%22touch+me+in+so+many+places%22&source=bl&ots=szaJLn4rvA&sig=MzowAr9H9qvA2TvBPbqoYCzeO7Y&hl=en&sa=X&ei=4URKVfPyGcL3UsKIgcAK&ved=0CCcQ6AEwAg#v=onepage&q=%22touch%20me%20in%20so%20many%20places%22&f=false

with Vicki Feaver
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=w1irHNmw12AC&pg=PT38&lpg=PT38&dq=%22have+no+voice+to+call+you%22&source=bl&ots=ZAJqvZn0zm&sig=d47iKbTX3QFRyV2-K6iHGIm98MY&hl=en&sa=X&ei=HwZJVZXcLcLZavbagOAD&ved=0CCUQ6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q=%22have%20no%20voice%20to%20call%20you%22&f=false

and 3 borrows heavily from Ellen Phethean’s Let Down, for which the publisher and Sheree make apology on the book’s website

The Men of Success Village (p.46)

strongly resembles Douglas Dunn, The Men of Terry Street
https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=QtjHIy5WU7AC&pg=PA97&lpg=PA97&dq=%22masculine+invisibility%22+poem&source=bl&ots=wyieUqaalC&sig=o7p1Yh6855Fled7QXAgIyqewM_I&hl=en&sa=X&ei=fCNJVe2DIYL9UqOYgZgJ&ved=0CCEQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=%22masculine%20invisibility%22%20poem&f=false

Men of Terry Street
by DOUGLAS DUNN

They come in at night, leave in the early morning.
I hear their footsteps, the ticking of bicycle chains,
Sudden blasts of motorcycles, whimpering of vans.
Somehow I am either in bed, or the curtains are drawn.

This masculine invisibility makes gods of them,
A pantheon of bots and overalls.
But when you see them, home early from work
Or at their Sunday leisure, they are too tired

And bored to look long at comfortably.
It hurts to see their faces, too sad of too jovial.
They quicken their step at the smell of cooking,
They hold up their children and sing to them.

The Men of Success Village
by SHEREE MACK

They go out at night, come back early in the morning.
You hear their footsteps, the tinkling of bottles;
sudden blasts of calypso music, whining of dirty mas.
Somehow you are either in bed, or at the table, waiting.

This masculine invisibility makes good of them,
a phantom of bare feet and string vests.
But when you see them, home early from work
or at Sunday church, they are too tired,

bent, longing for rest and peace.
You hurt to see their faces, too sad or too large.
At the smell of cooking they quicken their step
They hold their children at arms-length and chastise.

Lives wasting and smoking in the dark.

The Den (p54) strongly resembles Ellen Phethean’s The Box.

The last line of Social Unrest (p55)

Social Unrest

BY SHEREE MACK

....
as he is thrown into the gap, heaped and washed away.

http://www.poetrykit.org/pkl/CITN/citn57.htm

is exactly the same as Tim Liardet’s

http://www.arsint.com/2007/t_l_8.html

Static Rain in Maraval (p56)

BY SHEREE MACK

Rain waits inside us for a door to open.
Rain is heavy like full-moon lips carrying midnight.
Rain is an utterance made from broken pebbles.
Rain is that village girl who was
molested by an uncle on her way home
from school, crossing the lone cocoa hills
for a shortcut.
A variety of life and lies, looking for she -
a mahogany tipped breast
catching honey smeared raindrops. Static.
It was March, a time of blossom and damp stars.
She dripped in and out of memory for fifty years.
Rain steals everything but our secrets.
should be compared to

Larson's Holstein Bull

BY JIM HARRISON

Death waits inside us for a door to open.
Death is patient as a dead cat.
Death is a doorknob made of flesh.
Death is that angelic farm girl
gored by the bull on her way home
from school, crossing the pasture
for a shortcut. In the seventh grade
she couldn't read or write. She wasn't a virgin.
She was "simpleminded," we all said.
It was May, a time of lilacs and shooting stars.
She's lived in my memory for sixty years.
Death steals everything except our stories.

layered with phrases from M. Nourbese Philip e.g. “variety of life and lies”:
http://www.tdx.cat/bitstream/handle/10803/1660/TESIALONSO.pdf.txt?sequence=2

Mother to Mother (p59)

in its opening verse

Mother to Mother

BY SHEREE MACK

In the sun’s lazy breath at day-fade,
in the seagulls’ plummeting cry,
in my bulging belly and creaking joints
memory calls me
to the sifted flour and poured milk,
to the tossed salt over her shoulder
seeping into the folds of the wind.

She bared her stomach to the full moon
to ensure that it was a boy this time.
She drank a bottle of caster oil to ease me
from between her legs.
She knew the hunger of green,
the words for washing away ants
and when to prepare for the time of the month.

I fit my hand along the smoothed rim of her bowl,
bind sausage meat with egg yolks
and I am fifteen years younger than
when she was buried.
I grow fat in the same places,
as I further work her face into mine.
I, who, have never made a life without myself.

Between last and first branches with blunt buds,
between the sunlight that enters through
the kitchen window and spreads itself thin
as a napkin besides
the shelves of peaches and pickled beetroot.
I, who have many women in one body,
feel my face held between her work-worn hands.

http://everydaycreativity2.blogspot.co.uk/2010/04/april-pad-challenge-day-9-self-portrait.html

resembles the start of Judy Jordan’s Help Me Salt Help Me Sorrow

In the moon-fade and the sun’s puppy breath,
in the crow’s plummeting cry,
in my broken foot and arthritic joints,
memory calls me
to the earth’s opening, the graves dug, again, and again
I, always I am left
to turn away
into a bat’s wing-brush of air.

and the rest resembles Jordan's Scattered Prayers:

She swallowed a just -laid egg for conception,
bared her stomach to the full moon to ensure a girl this time.
A plowshare under her bed to cut the pain,
she drank a bottle of castor oil to ease me from between her legs.

Sifted flour, poured buttermilk,
tossed salt over her shoulder-
an offering to the devil,
an appeasement to the death-click of scuttle bugs.

She knew the hunger of ditchweed and possum fat,...

...She knew which forked branch for dowsing,
how many feet down for water,
which stump, the time of moon, the words for washing away warts.

I grow fat in the same places,
fit my hands to the smoothed handle of her hoe,
dry apples on the tin roof,
and wrinkle in the same sun that saw her buried my seventh year.

Each summer I sell tomatoes at the farmer's market
further works her face from mine.
Faster now that i'm only ten years younger than she can ever be,
faster now that I live so many women in one body,
I, who have never made a life within myself.

Between last and first frost
the weighted branches disjoin. ...

...Rises through the skiff's surge and strain
to hold my face between her floury hands."

http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/help-me-salt-help-me-sorrow

Far from Delhi (p77)

Far From Delhi

BY SHEREE MACK

Soon, I will be as wise as a swami by the Ganges.

Soon, they will come to the borders of Caroni.



As the morning’s gauzy humidity burns away, light

will splinter the low evergreen fields of sugar cane and rice.



With the air pungent with tamarind and cumin,

they will struggle to concoct one flame with our deyas.



Still, my people will walk the worn road balancing clay

pots on our heads, as cows and chickens wander unchecked.

http://deadinkbooks.com/poetry-from-sheree-mack/

takes phrases extant from a travel article in Islands Sep-Oct 2007, by Ted Alan Stedman. Google the phrase"As the morning’s gauzy humidity" and "chickens wander unchecked". The "low evergreen fields" is taken, and "air pungent with tamarind and cumin" and "walking the worn road"
http://deadinkbooks.com/poetry-from-sheree-mack/https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=zyOtLUtTh2UC&pg=PA83&lpg=PA83&dq=%22chickens+wander+unchecked%22&source=bl&ots=RO8-SzHwGZ&sig=8mkWwvi88dWzcy1_9fC_2VFRwnQ&hl=en&sa=X&ei=pnlIVYGsHs73aqbDgaAG&ved=0CCcQ6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q=concoct&f=false

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

I meant to include this paragraph in the story above but it got squeezed out:

In an early comment on the revelations on Ira Lightman’s Facebook page, one well-known poet and writing tutor said that “writing poems 'after' others, mimicking a structure, or using a beginning line or an end line to kick-start a poem etc, is an extremely common exercise/ generative technique. It's not one I use often, but some teachers do it all the time. Obviously you should always either acknowledge it is 'after' (which to be fair she sometimes does), or you should make it 'new' enough to count as your own. Sheree's mistake here seems to be that she hasn't made those lines 'new' enough … I think this is very different from say, the poem of Helen Mort's that got stolen. It's more a matter of occasional laziness - these exercises are very dangerous if you're a fairly unoriginal poet, and so can't escape the scaffold, and come to rely on them too heavily.”

I will restore it.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

neat'n'sweet! xx

Comment is about For They Grow (blog)

Original item by Agony Aiane

Wish someone would find my stuff worthwhile stealing

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

I hope all of these comments are your own work.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

Ladies,I thank you-very much! xx

Comment is about Looking for the sky (blog)

I really enjoyed reading this one, my favourite line is 'And in those hours I asked my love to leave' - so much emotion in that one line, for me about trying desperately to feel and be something other than I am. Not sure if that's what you meant by it, but I found it really touching xx

Comment is about My Love (blog)

Original item by Michelle

Love the ending, Preeti, really good xx

Comment is about Fishing (blog)

I enjoyed this, Chris, lovely x

Comment is about Midnight Manoeuvres (blog)

Original item by Chris Briggs

Hi Lyn, this is great, really strong images, really enjoyed this, thanks x

Comment is about SOMETIMES (blog)

As someone who was brought up in Middlesbrough I am appalled that this can happen. Full marks to Ira Lightman. The fact that so many of us poets write truly original work and at times get rejected and pilloried, indicates a great injustice. Thank goodness this has been uncovered and hopefully injustices like this will be resolved.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

Yes, just click on my name. Feel free to throw some criticism back my way. Also have a peek at http://colsibabes.blogspot.co.uk/
x

Comment is about Any town (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

Hope I wasn't too cruel Carol. Look forward to reading the re-write. x

Comment is about The Loaded Gun (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

Thanks for commenting again Colin, yes will look again at this poem and perhaps change to covenant . I appreciate your comments thanks. Have you any work I can read?

Comment is about Any town (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

Hi Carol, me again. This is so much more concise than your loaded gun and almost every word has its place. I'm struggling with 'interchanging connections' and 'alternate pluralities'. Should that be 'covenant' in the last line? x

Comment is about Any town (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

I guess I asked for honesty so I got it! Thanks for your feedback, it's made me realise that this poem does need quite a bit of work.

Comment is about The Loaded Gun (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

Honest feedback Carol: rambling with some slightly obvious but awkward rhyming. Honesty / policy - bliss / amiss for example. It's hard to relate everything back to the loaded gun theme despite the (unnecessary?) repetition of the title throughout the piece. Maybe let the title speak for itself and cut 'loaded gun' from the poem altogether. Condense the rest and pick out the best.

What is your definition of 'kuching' btw? According to urbandictionary.com it's either the capital of Sarawak or 'having sex with a post op Malaysian tranny'. x

Comment is about The Loaded Gun (blog)

Original item by Carol Fenwick

I like the poem , ticket to Ride , very evocative :)

Comment is about Andy N (poet profile)

Original item by Andy N

I like this, and remember such fears of passing through borders :) excellent stuff

I like the line,
the border did what most borders do, it shrugged us through :)

Comment is about Is this what borders do? (blog)

Original item by Tommy Carroll

Ira has done a brilliant job in uncovering this. As poets so many of us sweat blood and tears in order to pen what we do. They are not just poems, but in many respects extensions of ourselves. Whatever standard any of us reach, we aspire to the highest of ideals and can take pride in our own personal high water marks. This on the other hand sullies the art, no insult could be greater, either to the reader, or to the poets that find their work "appropriated". There is of course another word for that!

Ira might to a degree be somewhat limited in what he can say, due to professional etiquette. I am not bound in such a way and will call it for what it is. It is disgusting, it is outright and it is plagiarism; a crude theft of the work of others. I hope the poets reputation is in tatters and I hope she loses her job and qualification to teach: both of which must now be called into doubt. I know that will sound harsh to some, but only when the price to be paid for such action is equivalent to the rewards of the crime will people cease to do this. Make no mistake, all of the excuses are simply lies that compound the original offences (more than one). Nobody just happens to copy entire poems start to finish and "mistake it" for their own work. I feel very sorry for those who have found their work, lifted. It must be so hard for these poets to re-claim their own work in the light of this. To me it would be like having someone burgle my home. I'm not sure I would feel the same again (at least for some time) with all that I had treasured.

I'm sure some will disagree with me, that's fine, in any regards, a huge thanks to Ira for his work and for uncovering this. He has done a great service, for poets and to poetry. As I say, my thoughts go out to the poets whose work was lifted. Perhaps though with high profile cases such as this, people will think twice and turn to their own creative ideas and focus on what may make them genuinely worthwhile - in their own right.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

Power full. Tommy

Comment is about SOMETIMES (blog)

Nice combination, football and politics! Nothing against Villa, but I suppose he'll be at the final.

Comment is about ASTON VILLA (blog)

Original item by Ben Willems

I often worry about the state of the 'poetry industry', the commoditisation of creativity. This is absolutely disgusting. Quite unforgivable. And very worry that a person with such attitudes is teaching at the OU and receiving limited opportunities like reading at Ledbury. Everything that is wrong with modern poetry practice in one story.

Comment is about Poet apologises for 'appropriations' as poems are withdrawn and book is pulped (article)

Original item by Greg Freeman

Very encouraging!

Comment is about DONT GIVE UP (blog)

Original item by Autum

That's the way you do it! I'd love to possess a tiny fraction of your talent. x

Comment is about table scraps 2306 (05/07/2015) (blog)

Original item by Zach Dafoe