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Fire and Ice

he fired the flaming arrow
into the small funeral craft
that carried his sweet life mate,
and newly still-born male child,
now gone from his tight circle, but
so fresh in his mind.
the craft burst into flame
as soon as the kindling was lit.
his life as a highly skilled bow hunter,
feeding and clothing he and his wife
who had lived together in happiness
for the two years they spent in loving.
he could not help but feel responsible
that his family of three, had not survived.
now, just a shell of his former self,
at sunset, after paying respect,
he would turn away from the slow flowing river
with its clumps of snow and ice,
then walk out on the thin ice of the vast lake
to sit with his memories and wait for the cold
and swirling winds to take him in frozen sleep.

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Comments

The below is a computer generated response from Neo, Neopoet's computer artificial intelligence:

The poem "Fire and Ice" tells a tragic story of loss and grief in a vivid and poignant way. The imagery of the flaming arrow igniting the funeral craft and the protagonist's subsequent journey onto the frozen lake are both haunting and powerful.

One suggestion for a line edit would be to revise the phrase "newly still-born male child" to "newly stillborn son." This would not only simplify the language, but also add a more personal touch to the poem by using a familial term instead of a clinical one.

Overall, the poem effectively conveys the sense of overwhelming sadness and despair that the protagonist feels after losing his family. However, some readers may find the abrupt shift from the funeral scene to the protagonist's death wish a bit jarring. It might have been helpful to provide additional context or reflection on the character's emotional state in between these two events.

Additionally, some readers may find the use of the phrase "shell of his former self" to be a bit clichéd. It would have been more effective to use more specific language to describe the character's emotional state.

Overall, "Fire and Ice" is a well-crafted poem that effectively conveys a sense of tragedy and grief. With some slight revisions and additional context, it could be even more impactful.

Please send feedback about Neo (our computer generated critique system) to https://www.neopoet.com/contact

the protagonist does seem to switch gears rather quickly, I would like to see a line or two describing the transition too.
I would suggest that the protagonist, think to himself about why his family died, and why he held himself responsible. Maybe something about his failure to find food? Or not being able to protect them? How about:
Maybe, the god of hunting was angry
Had he disrespected it somehow?
No game had come within reach of his arrow
[now, just a shadow of himself]

As always, my advice is: to use it, twist it, or abuse it. ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

thank you for reading and giving me your take on my poem. I always appreciate your wise advise. i have known you for many years now and we have exchanged ideas on poetry. I feel it is part of the whole poetic experience to read your poems and comments on others poetry, as well as mine. thank you for all you do.

*hugs & love, Cat

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author comment

what I do, because of my love for poetry, and by extension, Neopoet. This is what a poetry site should be. A place where
poets can come and birth their babies, the pieces that make up their souls. A place where they entrust their children to the
entire village. Who hasn't heard the adage that "It takes a village to raise a child"? We all know what that means. It means that
in order to make the most of a child, and their education, we must teach the child from all the gathered knowledge of a community. Even something that may not seem important, can have a huge effect on the child's well-being. So yeah, I want to contribute to the community and hope that in some small way, I will enhance the children and spread our knowledge of this wonderful Shangri-la. P.S. Sometimes, I am not so wise, and need the village to tell me that I am the village idiot for the day! Big hugs and love ~ Geez.
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There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Certainly does captivate the grief the husband/father is feeling over the loss of his partner and child. He seems reflective as he awaits his own death. I do agree a few lines indicating the shift from the funeral to his death would fill in some gaps and add more to the poem. Great job though!

~RoseBlack~

I think you are right about an addition. now I have to gather my lazy bones and get up off my duff and do it! I appreciate your advice and I am so glad that you are here and an integral part of neo, both you and Geezer!

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author comment

you are reading the original. I have been really sick all day and could not get around to a rewrite. I hope tomorrow brings some relief so I can think straight. I HATE being sick! thanks always for your ideas and opinions.

*hugs, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

author comment

Hello, Cat,
Wonderful title. I followed the scenario completely. A very raw, organic experience. I felt his grief and honor, and the following torment and resolve. The ending has a deep sense of silence. Beautiful poetry.
Thank you,
L

for your sense of pure enjoyment. I hope you will enjoy the rewrite as much as the bare bones. you are a real lady.

*hugs, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

author comment

I guess maybe he does proceed with his euthanasia rather quickly. Perhaps a few stellar lines concerning the depth of this grief.

“Shards of ice pierced his heart as disparaging grief emptied its cruel infinite quiver through his open chest.”

“Immaculate apathy or crippling sorrow could not sustain him, for all inside was rendered cold and hardened; clutching fast like the frost that that causes the scabbard to clutch icy steel. Unable to uncouple.”

Hope that lights the fires, hope you’re feeling better.

Tim

I think you need to bottle that stuff, and sell it! ~ Geez.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

yes, he should! I would buy it. an elixir of creativity!

*love, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

author comment

Your poem is deeply tragic and touching. I tried to personify his grief with his very weapons of choice. I feel like this adds a level of irony whereas he has come through battles largely unscathed yet has been defeated by this enemy unseen, his own mind.

You are both my good friends and I’m honored and privileged to read and comment.

Tim

albeit a little late in my responding. just want you to know you are appreciated...

*love, Cat

*
When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

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