Odin Roark, click here
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Imagining the pain of desperation.
before i do it
the phone rings at the other end
like a drip from ice melting
forever stretching its moment
doing what it does best
when finally a voice says "hello"
my mouth opens
but like the icicle
suddenly ensconced by a frigid waft
my moment is frozen
"hello" comes the voice a second time
the voice i know
but wish to forget
with sweat soaked hand
i tuck the cell back
in its safety net atop my heart
and walk the few steps further
the railing is nothing
the ledge is harder
the peering down into rushing water
to awaken from such a dream
i'm so afraid to dial again
before i do it
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|Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
|well done, great metaphor.|
|Reviewed by Asa Seeley
|'nights' can be beautiful, but when they are cruel...they are cruel.
|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|You have finely wrought desperation here. Let's hope that it is only a dream and not a self-fulfilling prophecy.
|Reviewed by John Flanagan
|"...to awaken from such a dream
resonates to the sky with its frustration
but, too, with its sharp ambiguity...that i
can relate to;
for me, a challenging poem, perhaps too close
to the personal bone but wonderfully, tightly
|Reviewed by Christine Tsen
|This is a poem born of experience, wonderful emotional resonance!
|Reviewed by Keith Rowley
|Fabulous. I respect your talent.|
|Reviewed by richard cederberg
|You paint the scene powerfully well, Odinsan. It would make a great vignette for a stage production. You do it, too, in a way that the reader can draw personal experiences from it. I know the feeling. Her name was Louise. And I was 19 yrs old and had just been drafted into the Army. Peace ...|