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jude forese

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· air-borne ashes

· climbing (revised)

· roar of voices

· in honor of

· reevaluation

· larger voice

· unraveling

· digesting newness

· a signal yet learned

· abstraction on evergreen sojourn

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  grasping on air
by jude forese
Friday, October 16, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by jude forese
•  air-borne ashes
•  climbing (revised)
•  fettered footprints
•  roar of voices
•  in honor of
           >> View all 915




the sensation of falling

is rising


    from subconscious atmospheres

   of alchemical ascension


                  dynamically forcing

        my plunge


  into a growing vertigo

    of suspended feelings


    and accelerating

                 glimpses of clarity -


a foreign mood

         prevails over potent reminders


  moments when perceptions

            strive to be rebalanced


and reclaimed

          by the might of windy light’s

       volume of sacred visions


   steering me

to write

      in directions


   by externalizing


      mysterious voices


            i fathom


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Reviewed by Kate Burnside 10/18/2009
Moods In Motion, yes indeedy: time to revisit and reclaim the balance of perceptions to be found in "the might of windy light’s volume of sacred visions". Can readily identify with that upthrust of falling, that suspended animation within the spiralling vortex of alchemical liquid thought, distilling milky perceptions/ideas/intuitions into clear solutions. And fascinating how you have apparently slipped between "phantom" and "fathom" in your thinking (of which there has also been precedent!), exemplifying this clarity-from-fog taking place. It's a good, weighty plumb-line to end on, too, grounding the poem and your thoughts. "Transcending into Utopia", to borrow Amber's words, or falling down, down, deeper into Alice's Wonderland creates a very intriguing sensation/tension. Great form to illustrate your "falling" and wonderful title, too - I thought this was gonna be about YOUR inflatable friend, Kartero!!! LOL :)) xx

Reviewed by Carole Mathys 10/18/2009
...fascinating poetry, Jude!

Reviewed by Jerry Diamond 10/18/2009
I thought I could hear the chanting of the Shaman in the background during this poetic tour de force

Compelling and brilliant stuff master wordsmith

Reviewed by Gene Williamson 10/18/2009
I'll leave the introspection to others, Jude, and
praise your skill with the pen. Marvelous alliteration,
as in:

from subconscious atmospheres
of alchemical ascension


Reviewed by Ronald Hull 10/18/2009
Very introspective, like my falling dreams, grasping for air.

Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 10/18/2009
You write words...words that come not from your head...but your soul.
Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 10/17/2009
love this-it is deep and thought provoking
Reviewed by Kate Clifford 10/17/2009
You keep thinking like this and you will have no ego left....It's a good thing :-) All that is left is to take the I out of it :-) Reading you, makes me want to write again, express again. Thank you.
Reviewed by Leslie Hoffman 10/17/2009
I love where your mind journeys.
Reviewed by D Johnson 10/17/2009
Your words are strong, and vividly displayed. A most powerful penning.

Reviewed by Sherry Heim 10/17/2009
The thought of a foreign mood is enticing, Jude. I could spend an hour soaking in that idea. Excellent offering.
Take care,
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 10/17/2009
Back in the sixties and seventies I used to have that feeling after dropping some especially potent acid / I would say I was kidding, but I am not / As I read this heavy-duty poem I immediately thought back to those days of what, at the time, I thought were pure enlightenment . . .
Reviewed by C. McGovern-Bowen 10/17/2009
thoughts drive life; dreams drive hope; rarefied air feeds all...
an exceptionally superb write, jude.
Reviewed by Georg Mateos 10/17/2009
Grasping on air, and not even a pathetic little straw to brake the fall down the abyss, and yet...accelerating glimpses of clarity.


Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 10/17/2009
Stunning, Jude, powerfully penned - well done. Just glad you're not gasping for air. :) The way you leave many of your readers -

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Reviewed by Felix Perry 10/16/2009
You will follow your path whether it be in such intense and passionate poems as this one or as ET suggests you do a book, either way they will be your voice and come through loud and clear.
Reviewed by Karen Palumbo 10/16/2009
You write from your heart but you also write from a very deep depth from within your soul, I surely commend you in your inner strength...

Be always safe,
Reviewed by E T Waldron 10/16/2009
I'll leave it to others to critique Jude,but I do have to repeat what i said to you a few weeks ago. I think it's time to ease off on the poetry for awhile. You are being called to write your biography. You have much to share that can be a blessing and help to others while at the same time making you aware of how much knowledge you have amassed of the spiritual world. The bio should be about your gift of wisdom and discernment and how to apply it to our daily lives. You know you have a gift, and I believe Creator is telling you it's time to share what He has given you.The world is ready for some honest assessment of how we should be living.We have all had enough of lies and distortions! Listen to the voices you fathom,and the new direction. It's time,moodyjude;-)!
Reviewed by Amber Moonstone 10/16/2009
There is a bit of sadness in this poem, Jude, coming from a deep dark place. Perhaps it is time to release that darkness, and live your dream.

Each one of us has a dream of what we think our life should be, a choice a decision can be made and that dream can become a reality.

Much more to be digested with these stellar words you have penned. Perhaps a walk on a beach is called for to find some clarity and peace. The ocean does it for me, I feel that you are drawn there also. Look at the moon, around 11:11 and make your wish for that life that you so deserve. I wish you only peace and happiness and much love to return to your heart.

Rest and be well,

Healing energy to you,

Amber "V"
Reviewed by Janet Caldwell 10/16/2009
We all see and read poetry in a different way. It reminds me of myself when my manic depression (mostly mania) was spinning out of control. There is always something deeper in your work which I search for. Thank you Dearest Jude.

Janet xx
Reviewed by Lori Moore 10/16/2009
Wonderful lines. I'd like to more about that foreign mood.
Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater 10/16/2009
Suspended animation - a David Copperfield illusion...archives of the brain, sea of memory...pull it out, Jude..time travel...selective memory. Trapped in this limbo of an eternal present between a past you can't remember with a future you can't contemplate...Pinpointing the Source, having it in your brain is a gift, not a burden, it just needs sorted out to find order and clarity in the chaos of memories. Remembering things exactly as they happen with no exaggerations and free from revisions allows us to relieve traumas, childhood amnesia before the age of three and before birth, the past-life. Grasping on air has implications of outsourcing (sending to an outside source via cosmic messengers) memory, something's been lost. A journey of retrieval (astral travel) to arrange mental images into some ethereal space in a culture before the advent of books. The art of memory was codified with an extensive set of instructions in countless medieval memory treatises and there have been long traditions of memory training in many cultures and have been passed down orally. Koranic memorization is considered one of the highest achievements among devout Muslims. Traditional West African griots and South Slavic bards recount collosal epics entirely from memory...

Reviewed by Julianza (Julie) Shavin 10/16/2009
The search for balance is a constant. it's our lives, isn't it? rise fall, back forward, right left, in out, etc. Life is a rollercoaster. i think the thing to do is not to look for the balance but to accept that the river is never the same twice, or once, as it's said, and go with the flow, though i hate that phrase.(sorry for mixing metaphors!) So much can change in a day. Even in an hour. Problem is, humans need to be in control. Entropy, chaos, even a messy house, can make some people crazy. We always feel out of control. We're not in control. No one is. The striving to control is as bad as the vertigo sometimes. I say, you do the best you can, to function, let the surprises good and bad come, and just go on. That old saw: knowing what you can "change," and what you cannot. I love the last part. I've never seen a poem end with "I phantom." The craziness of the lines is the vertigo, style's mirroring message, but if you look, you will also see a balance. In general, the poem is more or less centered, balanced. I do not like obvious paradox, as in first line, but I do like the last stanza and last line especially. If you phantom, as a verb, the thoughts and voices are yours. That puts you a bit in control. So pass Go, collect $200 and do the best you can. Forget about getting to Boardwalk and having a million hotels. Settle for a small abode -- like a cave with a dirt floor, or wherever you can be relatively happy part of the time. It's always going to go back and forth, life, -- rock you like a baby -- this poem rocks in its visuals, how it is on the screen. It's meditative and calming, despite your confusion. Let the poem rock you gently, and stop flailing. (i realize that's a lot like "empty your mind." It makes you focus on what is in there!) What is in the world, for certain? Your own head, first and foremost. Who will ever figure everything out? find the balance? Accept it and get some ice cream. (rocky road). It works for me. Or choose your own poison, just not one that will kill you. I wish us all the best of luck. julie
Reviewed by Marcia Miller-Twiford 10/16/2009
I love it when I'm the first to review a new work by you Jude. I love this one. It expresses my feelings at times. I've learned how to post them in the format you've used here should you care to send it one. Hint, hint.
Your Adoring Fan,
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