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Cynth'ya Lewis

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age relat'd
by Cynth'ya Lewis
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Here today. . . the saying goes


Age was happy
once upon a delusion. . . 
she paid her dues, stayd in
her place, and workd around
the clock as commandd
by the rule of scribes/

their know-how was not to be questiond


then something strange occurd, and

the azure eyes of Age no longer saw

beyond the clouds of historys pain,

Knowledge was blindd by
temporary inconvenience veiling

the silent glow of Davids Star;

thus having nothing more to wish upon

finding herself abandond
when her future thumb
d a ride
in the mist of galactic darkness,
Age overheard Heartache, Fear and Boredom,
engaging in m
énage a trois like
cyclones wrapping their tongues around
each other, spewing unclean seed
that pool
d around her festering feet;


unfortunately for Age, a lifetime

of precautions just was not enough;

but even though she followd the rules

to the most distinct letter,

there was no way to prepare for the
never-ending side effects that were
purposely left unindex

in her Almanac of Trust.

if it were possible to murmur
to the fallen moon, Age might
attempt a plea for a

secondary chance; perhaps 
regaining a few of life
s untold stories

that were so cruelly snatchd

from the grip of her weakend weatherd
hands, as she stares in the face of

an expird Reality as she
watches recollections whisk
d away

for-ever in the screaming air. . .


© 2005-2006 cynthya lewis reed
all rights reserv


Updated Revision Found Here:


 After reading the revised poem above, find helpful concerned with age and losing memory at the link below:

Memory Loss. . . What is Normal? What is Not?
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Reviewed by Kate Clifford
Wow! Love the dramatic way that you wrote this!
Reviewed by Pier Tyler
Regarding your poem, "age relat'd" I understand it well, meaning I can relate to what is being said. On a personal level, when my late hubby had prostate cancer and on a social, environmental, and world issues level. If you must tweak what I see is understandable already, go ahead. Being a 50-something lady born in 1950, I totally relate. Your poem is not meant for everybody to understand, but for the ones who "get it" it's purpose is priceless. I think both versions will make an excellent discussion in your speaking engagements.

Reviewed by Janet Parker
This may be more of a global statement, but I took it as personal. I see these things in my mother, especially "there was no way to prepare for the never-ending side effects that were purposely left unindex’d" My mother never considered old age because Daddy was alive. But he is gone now, she is miserable and it appears to be "my fault." I guess you can't prepare for it, but one can accept it with more grace. This is a wonderful write, Cynth'ya. Can't wait for the revised version.

Reviewed by Carmen Ruggero
There are two segments within this poem which clutter its meaning:
1."their know-how was not to be question’d
then something strange occur’d, and
the azure eyes of Age no longer saw
beyond the clouds of history’s pain,
Knowledge was blind’d by
temporary inconvenience veiling
the silent glow of David’s Star;"

unfortunately for Age, a lifetime
of precautions just was not enough;
but even though she follow’d the rules
to the most distinct letter,
there was no way to prepare for the
never-ending side effects that were
purposely left unindex’d
in her Almanac of Trust."

I think the poem would be clearly understood, if you were to clarify those two passages, thus making a cleaner connection.

I found your style to be almost lyrical. It is a good piece of writing, it just needs a little tweaking. I do that to mine ALL the time. Merry Christmas!

Carmen :-)

Reviewed by Mark Rockeymoore
wow...well, that's one way to view it, i guess! loved your language usage, your imagery was amazing, there was some quite memorable verbiage here. btw, i did what you said, and called it 'oh, so i'm crazy, right?' lol have a wonderful, blessed holiday!
Reviewed by Cynth'ya
Note to future readers: Nordette Adams was asked to review this, and she came extemely close to the abstract thoughts I experienced while penning this poem in its current form. For the sake of future readers, this will be re-edited in a day or so, and posted BELOW the original as a rewrite; and I'll take a more 'traditional' route in breaking up the stanzas in the second version.

As a writer I pay homage to poetic license, however I also want people to draw a bit of understanding as how they see might connect with portions of writing either personally or objectively. But I can say that the photo is from a scientific journal depicting the destruction of a star in deep space. Stars are billions and billions of years old compared to our young Earth. The Word of God says we are but a vapor. While we have many roles on this earth, sometimes, because of the "AGE" we live in (personified as a female because we give birth to the Earth's inhabitants), we forget to discover ourselves while busy discovering what others expect from us. So the star quality within us is destroyed. As a result in some cases, our future of what we could become is never realized.

Hope this makes things a bit clearer. Have a Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa. . . I've got a dinner to get to in a few minutes! Love,
cynth'ya (Time 1:56 pm EST, Dec. 25, 2005)

Please feel free to comment on both the first and second versions. When I write from within, especially at night, it's almost as if my fingers just run around the keys taking my first thoughts.
Reviewed by Nordette Adams
You have an intriguing personification of "our age" (our times) here. It seems that this poem mourns the end of an age, a time unraveled to despair because it moved too quickly and the people were not ready. Timely considering our own age of giant technological leaps, globalization, ethnic warring, and clashing idealogies that bring us to the brink of our own destruction via terrorism, neglect of the environment, and man's continued inhumanity to man. A provocative write, Cynth'ya. It does require some careful reading and rereading as Sherry says, but it is worth the effort. ~~Nordette
Reviewed by Sherry Heim
You have some excellent lines in this poem, Cynth'ya but I kept getting lost in the spin of the verse. I read it three times and though I felt that I could relate to much of it line by line, I kept getting lost in the flow. It is probably just me as I am recovering from a migraine which often disturbs my ability to process things in series. I hope you have a blessed Christmas and a happy and prosperous New Year. Beautiful graphic, Cynth'ya.

Take care,

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