Humor has been my defense mechanism and my go-to for getting through the worst of times. I definately can relate.
My greatgrandfather hung himself when my grandma was 8 years old. She was the one who found him. "Indirect Affection" was how she operated after that. Afraid to be close, but showing love in deeds, spending time,jokes and humor.
My maternal greatgrandfather suffered from depression too, influenced by The Great Depression and feeling like he was no longer a good father or of value. Not true. Just like Roy's thoughts became dark and self-deprecating through no fault of his own as well. But what a gift to his memory this story is. And so lovely that you were able to bring the memory of the Roy who once was back to remembrance.
The visual of you frisking your deceased father-law's garments had me chuckling. I bet the expressions on those ladies faces was priceless.
Other members in my family suffered from depression, my Father and his father. I had very bad bouts of depression, but by God's mercy and grace, I am alive. Thank You for sharing this bittersweet gem of a story.
Take Care,
Kim
Dear Paige,
I chose to review this for some personal reasons-
First, I hate liars, second, you use the title as the last word in the piece, a hallmark I am also known for.
I love how the piece is in a free-verse, without constructive restraints. It tells the story better this way.
It appears to me that you are reminiscing, and that is not something we can constrain to lines and format without sacrificing content.
Your visuals are excellent, the past liaisons are almost to be pitied.I think by the time you meet "the one", you're peace and clarity define the former boys as just that"boys".
My absolute favorite line is this..."Who smiled like he just discovered
the secret to life
every time
he leaned in
for a kiss." - Lovely!
Your observations about lies, and liars is very astute. Yes, telling a lie long enough unfortunately makes it believable to those seeking false truths. I am impressed by your acute sense of the other person's delusion of self.
You managed to take a position against their intolerable behavior while not being self-righteous, A hallmark of a genuinely caring person as you seem to be.
You have a wonderful gift my dear, use it well and keep writing.
Blessings,
Kimarie Manhart-Freeman
Hunter,
The unspoken impression causes one to see the military persons;
dressed in finery and standing in somber witness to the great honor they deserve.
Flickering candles about to sputter out, as the lives of the departed in service.
What is inferred pulls the tears from our eyes; and causes us to ponder on sacrificial death.
No better ending than to say a prayer for them; asking rest, sweet rest.
Hello,
I enjoyed your colorful poem!
Your simile style comparison combined with
A well-executed rhyme scheme made for a
delightful and relaxing read.
My favorite lines:
April showers bring rainbow refractions,
and May flowers are always attractions.
A peacock, proudly strutting for his mate,
joins others in their quest to propagate
through a round of colorful interactions.
I really enjoyed this.
If I could frame this, I would use oak and iron studs.
If I could taste it it would be fish stew, brown bread, and ale.
If I could touch it it would feel like a fast pulses,a mighty hairy chest and calloused hands.
If I could smell it, it would be the salt of the sea, perspiration of stalwart men, blending with fire and ice.
If I could see it, it would be everything have said it to be.
On warm nights like this, the sea calls to the adventurous heart.
My favorite quatrain is this:
The fjord rang with hunting songs,
bright shone each shield and blade,
as onward to the north they sailed
proudly and unafraid.
I like how the knight is picking up the sword
to go too unafraid and begin again the hero's journey.
Always A Pleasure to Purvey Your Written Wares,
Kimarie
I get you! I felt the same vibe as I did when I penned "My Tomb", and "Your Hand". Redeeming love is awesome!
It begins with crawling into your broken heart, a place where no light shines, no truth permeates, and no comfort awaits.
The carnal heart can be a wicked place, and the redemption of a pure heart is a beautiful thing. What comes first?
Redemption or Love? The act of loving a person in need might cause them to love for that reason in itself, which is a noble
thing as well. Love lifts us as you put so well- "Your loving spirit led me to a place where I could stand and find strength to
love again...strentgh from your gentle hands." Love kicks butt! No doubt about it! It drives away darkness, brings hope and
glorious light. Thank God for His residual love, bewstowed on us, and seen in action where it's needed most. You mention
doors several times, love opens doors that were shut with rusted locks. I like that this piece was only 5 stanzas, It
gets to the heart of the issue , using few, but mighty words. Thank you for sharing this lovely piece. Here's to love!
My prayers are with you and your daughter. A very hard part of a terminal diagnosis in a child is that we feel total loss of control in the role of protector and parent. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not to your own understanding.
The poem:
Nice measure, nice flow, AABB scheme made for easy read.
Content: honest, raw, revealing.
Favorite part:
And so it comes to this, the writing, that I share.
To put feelings in words is really therapeutic care.
Whatever time we have together I will treasure,
whatever comes, God alone will do the measure.
writing is the best therapy, and has been for me for decades. I pray all goes well for you and yours and the Lord fills you with his peace that flies in the face of circumstance.
Such timeless lovelieness of words is a rare treat nowadays indeed.
The trials of life wrapped in disillusionment and betrayal are described in aching, poetic grace.
The flow is wonderful and heady with the scent of Edgar Allan Poe clinging to it's quatrains.
Favorite lines?:
"Justice hacks in half-light at what chippings it has caught"- Ah, I too understand this and I feel sad.
I also adore the references to the planets themselves losing their brownian motion. As if the weight of man's sin and ignorance has moved them out of place.-"Then the Sun had waxed magnificent, tragically wide.
And his mantle started swelling, massive, unconstrained.
The Moon, a burning exile with no pretense of pride,
Swooned, wounded, out of orbit, new trajectories attained"
I truly bonded with each and every line of perfection in this tragically beautiful piece. Thank you so much for sharing it with me.
Blessings,
Kimarie Manhart-Freeman
An entity of evil made from cast-off hurt and disappointments turns on the source of it's origin. A vulnerable child who probably was frustrating to her parents but still loved desires to leave; thinking she is unwanted and unloved. Most children dramatize everything and a pimple becomes a death sentence at that age. So, the girl thinks she should run away and meets a daylights demon. The unwitting child makes an involuntary blood pact sealing her doom. I like the use of the wheat fields described to give a dreamy and nightmarish atmosphere . The stalks hissing and rushing past making eeerie sounds.- "The wheat stood waist high, and as she plowed through it, the hissing stalks slapped and bit at her bare legs as if the dark ground beneath her feet seethed with snakes"
A very chilling piece that still retained a dreamy beauty to it. Well done my dear.
Best-Kimarie Manhart-Freeman
Abstract grief moving like a slow dance. The detail and slow pace mimics dying itself. The inability to focus on the larger picture is very descriptive of a person depressed. The dream quality makes it even sadder, as if he is is seeing her in every movement on the canvas. Very bittersweet and lovely.
Blessings, Kimarie Manhart-Freeman
That was wonderful. I love humor and wit. This was informative and ever so funny. What cracked me up to the point I spit my coffee on my keyboard((((thanks 4 that by the way!!!!)))) Is this:" I am made sad by the awkward sentences I am writing. Bad". I am now a fan my dear. Read my page anytime and do give me one of your flavorful reviews OK?
Wow! The pace was great. Suspenseful and spine-chilling. The creepy doll made my skin crawl. Your visuals are strong and make me feel as if I'm right there. Brain-stealing,Oooooh. I'd like to see a continuation of this story so do it!
Spine-lessly Yours,
Kimarie
Absolutely breathtaking. I was transported back to when my daughter,sons,and granddaughter Luna SOPHIA Manarino was born. Your appreciation of the dear baby is so apparent in this touching poem. It is magical,tender, and full of love. Thank you for creating and sharing this timeless and wonderful piece.The format, is perfect and the flow is as smooth as a baby-powdered bottom. favorite lines,"A dusty mark where you had been Like a fairy brushing by", " You’re not aware of the heart you took But now it’s with you ev’ry where" This poem prompted me to give the first Awardicon I've ever given. Bless you and Sophia.
Fine job in these areas:
-setting the scene and tone
-visuals
-empathy for charcters
-causing to pause and reflect
-desire to read on
As a mother I cried when I read this short and bittersweet piece. Dreams are sometimes the vehicle our departed ones travel to us. I have experienced it and it is a rare and precious gift. Love your style.
Baby, you 'aint kiddin'! I was a CNA for 11 years. I had to "save" a 612 lb woman from faling out of her bed onto the floor. I tore my rotator cuff and herniated 2 discs. I could tell you some funny stories too but we won't go there . Very funny read. I could just see the big old guy on your lap and how red-faced you were.
How lovely. Bold and yet innocent. Sets a lovely mood of comfort and passion. I am also a fan of no punctuation !
Keep Writing,
Kimarie Manhart-Freeman
I am deeply saddened to hear of her passing. She was kind, funny, and insightfull. I was blessed to have received reviews from her and will miss her work on WDC.
Prejudice, racism, and bigotry
are just schemes cooked up by that troublemaker in the one piece red P.J's. No, not Santa, the devil. Love is blind. How else could two ancient people with no hair on their heads but plenty in their ears give gum-smacking kisses to each other? When my dad was a boy, he had to live for a spell with a black family that worked in the cotton fields of Georgia. My daddy picked cotton with them too.The black mama fed him and prayed with him each night. Daddy says he was happy there. Happier than with his own depressed parents who were too rough on him. The man wasn't just doing a kindly deed by giving you the ice cream, he was changing the world, a couple of kids at a time. Biblical principles in action. When Christ spoke to people individually , great things happened. The woman at the well, the apostle Paul on the road, the leper, and so on.
You got me. I had no idea "Burger King" could make me cry, except for the time I stupidly had the flamethrower jalapeno burger. "dirty bare feet" are a trademark of mother nature's royalty don't you know? I personally believe Mother Nature never washes her feet. She just goes swimming like all the smart kids did at bath time.
While we dreamed of being rich, my siblings and I played with well-worn simple toys. We made tea parties for the bugs from acorn cups and leaf plates and fed them cake crumbs. Swinging on a recycled board swing until the skies were a lavender-red and our cheeks became cool as river rocks. If only we knew it was heaven on earth and it would soon go. Those were the good old days.
You might have missed out on one of nature's rare phenomena . Maybe the toads were getting sucked up by sink holes in a spring. Or maybe the bears discovered the joys of frog's legs and were sucking the meat right off the bones. Or maaaaybe, they were a rare evolutionary marvel of vampire frogs.In that acse I dont blame you for not going but... You'll never know because you were to chicken to find out. That really "sucks". te-he-he.
Kimarie
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