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Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie

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Member Since: Sep, 2002

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by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie
Sunday, July 06, 2003

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Recent poems by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie
•  I Came To Write A Poem
•  The Haunted Forest
•  Not Anymore...
•  Not My Blood...
•  If I Close My Eyes...
           >> View all 450

By shadows that use to be
As real as me-
Like I was ever there!
So much humor here,
You donít get the joke,
But I feel it so deep,
And worry not my friend,
It no longer makes me weep.
Rather I smile sadly,
At foolish youth,
In all its pretensions at life,
The only thing real to me,
Is the knife I see,
Sharp-edged and keen bladed,
How deeply it cuts,
At things it cannot see,
How deeply it cuts,
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Reviewed by Steve Joos 7/8/2003
Very powerful write.
Reviewed by serenety L 7/8/2003
Great !
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge (Reader) 7/7/2003
Excellence and depth of emotion are always so evident in your work, Retta.
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader) 7/7/2003
Razor sharp write.
Reviewed by E T Waldron 7/6/2003
This write was as sharp as a knife stab! beautifully done Reindeer!
Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader) 7/6/2003
Rhetta this is a very haunting write, filled with sad emotional imagery...excellant!!!!
Reviewed by Lynn Barry 7/6/2003
hauntingly're good...
Reviewed by ***** ********* (Reader) 7/6/2003
Oh, yes, Reindeer, that blade, that sparkling bright razor's edge that dances tantalizingly just on the outside of despair and loathing... it sings in a high pure lilting voice, all poisonous purity, like the Sirens of Ulysses' epic saga. I know whereof you speak. BRILLIANT, hauntingly passionate writing!
Reviewed by Trixie Love 7/6/2003
Oh Retta,
What a touching write.


Trixie :)
Reviewed by Zenith Elliott 7/6/2003
If the cut doesn't kill us it will make us wiser and stronger...trudge onward Retta! Good write! ~Z~
Reviewed by Kate Clifford 7/6/2003
Hugs. Great write.
Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader) 7/6/2003
Youth is wasted on the young. [smiles] Nice work, Retta.
Reviewed by Melissa Rives 7/6/2003
Powerful poem...the sharpness of the pain is felt.
Reviewed by jude forese 7/6/2003
you've expressed your pain quite eloquently...
Reviewed by May Lu a.k.a. Sandie Angel 7/6/2003

The black cat represents my own spirit. Please read my original response to you with my poem.


May Lu a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
Reviewed by Leland Waldrip 7/6/2003
Another gem, Retta. Be happy.
Reviewed by Sandie Angel 7/6/2003
Okay Retta! Stop being so good and so undefensive, it's time to become a witch - just as I have done for myself in the follwoing poem......EEEEEEE-HAA-HAA-HAA....

May you fly merrily in the sky....

My Poem When I Turned Myself Into A Happy Witch:

Her body and mind
recently covered with bulls-eyes,
now filled with marked crosses
inflicted by darts of lies,
still bleeds.

Blood flows onto the pavement
where she lays half-dead,
where a black cat walks by,
sticks out its tongue,
licks the blood and smiles.

For a moment,
she sees something spectacular
as the cat
transforms into a black figure
It flies away merrily on a broom.

Copyright © SandieAngel :o)
June 28, 2001
Reviewed by Jack Roberts 7/6/2003
Well done Retta! Very nice write, sad though.

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 7/6/2003
This one cuts to the bone!!
The only thing real to me,
Is the knife I see,
Sharp-edged and keen bladed,
How deeply it cuts,
At things it cannot see,
How deeply it cuts,

Stong emotional write Retta!!

Reviewed by Christine Morell 7/6/2003
Very sad and moving..hauntingly written.
Reviewed by Linda Hill 7/6/2003
((( Retta )))
I hope and pray
the horrors and
demons of your
life will release
their hold. I
suffer from depression
so I know these demons
very well. You are a
dear person. Don't let
your hauntings take away
your joy of life.

Reviewed by Erica Ivory 7/6/2003
Our youth does have a way of cutting to the bone.. And ironically it is our own aged wisdom that makes us the fool. This is something I RELATE TO.. AWESOME WRITE!!
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