Poignant. Gently revealing, with well-structured phrases. Sad, but powerful, ending. For some reason, overall, reminded me of a movie I saw years ago titled “Somewhere in Time” with Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour.
My favorite lines:
“Howling winds propel sea spray
Through unsealed windowpanes.”
Wonderful imagery. Thank you for sharing this well-crafted work . . .
I hardly ever give a 5. (It's just not in me.) But, after reading this piece twice, I could not help it. Poignant -- in that odd way; a blessing, in that God way . . .
Thanks for pushing away the curtain of "self" to share a deeply vulnerable moment.
Eli
PS: Please consider sending this piece to Guideposts, or some similarly inspirational publication.
PS-2: The number of completion, and completeness: 777 -- I can not add more . . .
This was a wonderfully, sophisticated, nuanced piece. Lovely imagery. Well-placed words. I know that poetry isn't isn’t mainstream anymore . . . but if it were, this effort would be appreciated, literally. Please continue to push the boundaries re: poetry and “deep” intellectual content here (at Writing.com) and beyond . . . I particularly liked the contrast between "Jilted ore pellets" and "Rusty iron rails." Maybe it's because I was born in Johnstown (Pa.) -- a "Steel Town."
I just saw Denzil Washington on TV, and he talked about a teacher who saw his potential and encouraged him to pursue his dreams. I thought of that as I read this piece. Oh, that there were more people like that who could see us, as you say:
“Each one unique,
a priceless jewel,
unlike any other,
an individual.”
Oh, this is wonderful. Everything I look for in a poetic piece -- depth, movement, imagery, mind-poking relevance.
A small point . . . In the line:
"vaguly valuable is it's life."
I would suggest:
“vaguely valuable is its life."
Changing “vaguly” to “vaguely” and “it’s” to “its” for grammatical reasons.
But this is minor to the point of meaninglessness – a primarily existential editing effort. Please continue to weave your wonderful words . . . and sharing them with the world.
This piece reminds me (much) of a movie I watched today called "Jing ke ci qin wang" - - roughly translated: " The Emperor and the Assassin." It is the story of the rise to power of Ying Zheng, the warlord who in 221 B.C. united China and became its first emperor.
It is a film of passion, conflict, success and disappointment . . .
Please continue to harvest your mind of its emotion, creativity and imagery to share works such as this.
Oh, dear Princess, what a lovely piece you have penned here. Every line a punctuated stroke. Every word, a deliberately hammered mark -- like the typesetters of olde, in lead. I cannot pick a favorite line -- which is my wont. It is like a Natalie Merchant song, wonderfully (poetically) written. Thank you. Please contine to share, here at Writing.com -- where you will (no doubt) be appreciated.
Thank you for sharing -- it meant much to me, someone who got quite the opposite response, when I was a sailor in Vietnam, where I got a “Dear John” letter. It is encouraging to know that love – “true love” – can overcome (& withstand) distance, politics & war.
Thank God for that . . . & may He bless you & yours.
"And I barely remember by age of Five,
what once I knew at Three."
(As for me, I strive to remember 30 -- or so.)
Thank you for diving so penetratingly deep into the swirling psyche-puddle to touch the murky muddy toes of 3 . . . & churn up “every secret thing . . .”
Wonderfully powerful. Thank you for sharing. You peeled away layers that revealed your deepest, most vulnerable, self. I am certain many were touched -- including me.
I found this quite refreshing; restrained, somewhat -- in an odd way, much like the 23rd Psalm ... a higher compliment, I cannot say. Please continue to share your thoughts. Life is too short not to …
You have transcribed “beauty” into a strong, three-dimensional serving table, one that both looks good and works hard.
My favorite lines:
"I've forgiven my abusers
There's no animosity left here in this heart
Regrets do not reside in me"
You have moved beyond the temporary into the eternal. This is a mega-step. Oh, that we could all move along into that journey. Unfortunately, there are too many cowards as ticket-holders …
Please continue to share your vision as well as your heart, painful thought I may be.
After having read -- and enjoyed -- your "Night Time Snow Fall," I decided to visit your "port" and forage around. Having done so -- and found this, yet another gem -- I'm giving you the 5.0 that I held back on in reviewing your previous work. It's hard to paint a colorful word-picture using just blacks and shadowy grays, but you have done so, and eloquently, me-thinks. Even in my loneliest moments (and I have had a few) I have not felt as coolly and hollowly alone as I did in reading this piece. It gave me chills -– in that heart-warming sort of way.
In but 123 words, you have crafted a nearly perfect -- though wholesomely fragile -- word-painting that on one hand inspires and on the other produces a sort of creative, tentative tension: Will you pull it off? I think you have, almost; and, trust me, I have provided to you (and for you) an enormously high compliment by that phrase. The imagery works, as does the rhythm. Perhaps it needs a bit more salt, but that is minor. Thank you for coaxing this work from your mind (and heart) to the pixels on the screen -- we (at Writing.com) are all the better for the effort.
My favorite segment:
"Breaths weave their
Cold feathers across the
Skin of softest senses
Beneath an alabaster ceiling"
You have (in your Spidey sort of way) spun together 122 words in a wonderful, wedded web of wonder ... My favorite was your opening:
"My heart melts
like tiny droplets of snow
warmed by a mid-day’s sun."
The transition/transformation of frigid white snow to see-through clear, room temperature h20 was most inspiring: cold snow to warm wet water ... melts us all.
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