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jude forese

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Poetry
· abstraction on evergreen sojourn

· forlorn verses

· broken dreams

· recycled and transformed

· disturbing the peace

· repairing: the inevitable wound of change

· past encounter

· morning gesture

· synchronized

· imaginable possibility

         More poetry...

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  a Poet's Lost Hum
by jude forese
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by jude forese
•  abstraction on evergreen sojourn
•  forlorn verses
•  winded feathers
•  broken dreams
•  distant drama and mended wounds
           >> View all 906

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Ah, to listen to the hum
Of a man whom has little left to offer

Who has shot his load
And now is struggling to replenish the creativity
He forced limitations upon
By refusing to peer beyond the rim of the horizon

An almost impossible feat to rekindle
What has faded from view

Dissipated into the atmosphere
Long before the zeal to compose was aroused

Now he wanders down the streets of experience
Looking for an avenue to explore

Looking for a haven of inspired images
To come cascading down from the heavens
Like a miraculous birth of wisdom

But only the hazy hum
Of his own inner voice
Answers

And offers a melody
Only he will hear



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Reviewed by Ronald Hull 5/1/2005
Some dazes it bees that way. Was wondering how long you could run your prolific before you hit a dry spell.

Ron
Reviewed by C. McGovern-Bowen 3/28/2005
ah, that pesky inner voice... much to ponder here, Sir Ace.
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader) 3/23/2005
Since I was a kid, I deceided not to do, what only the elderly do here, enjoy history nature, but enjoy it with zeal, facination, never stop asking, while I'm fit enough to really enjoy it.. Not the TV. But real life. My country offers so much, if one looks. So does the rest of the world. Which was mainly ours.
Great inspiration here...
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 3/23/2005
Jude,

GAD the emotionality of your words strikes home--if your Muse isn't humming, I wanna know what is--JAYS! If mine runs out, loan me some of yours, PUL-LEEZE!!

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
Reviewed by J. Allen Wilson 3/23/2005
Wow..this really hits home. Outstanding verse Sir.
Reviewed by Gwen Dickerson 3/23/2005
I appreciate this interesting and unique poetry subject! Well done, Robert.
Reviewed by George Jackson 3/23/2005
Ah, but sometimes that melody is the very essence of what needs to be expressed...if even to ponder why sometimes we can't (like The Spaces That Lie Between I posted here)express them. Sometimes I must force myself to write just because I need that freedom. A very powerful, insightful poem that goes into my Library. Excellent write.
Reviewed by Tinka Boukes 3/23/2005
Great write Robert!!

Love Tinka
Reviewed by Carole Mathys 3/23/2005
A most powerful, introspective write on this subject...as always...I am just placing the blame for my writers block on SDS (sunshine depravation syndrome)

Peace, Carole
Reviewed by Dale Clark 3/23/2005
A powerful piece I can relate
to the meaning within. Great!
Reviewed by Joseph* OneLight*ģ 3/23/2005
~ A Museís Antiphon ~

Perhaps I am sleeping,
Perhaps I am weeping,
Perchance Iím in a forest keeping.

Perhaps I am smiling,
Perhaps I am wiling,
Perchance Iím weaving tales beguiling.

Perhaps I am swaying,
Perhaps I am praying,
Perchance Iím in a garden playing.

Perhaps I am humming,
Perhaps I am drumming,
Listen and hear my voice forthcoming.

I am not lost,
I can be found,
If you will but turn around.

©2005 Joseph* ~ OneLight*

Sometimes, I find my muse vacationing in Disneyland ... silly muse! :) LOL

I'm sure that yours has not strayed far.

Love & Light,
Joseph

Reviewed by Kate Clifford 3/23/2005
Insightful and rich in feelings. Great write.
Reviewed by Kate Burnside 3/23/2005
Whether this is from deep within your own being, or an assumed poetic voice speaking, it is one that is heard, always, and is like an ocean breeze trimming our sails or moving across the strings of the soul. You could write about cow chips (I'm learning!!) and we would all still think that your were offering us a bouquet d'amour: because it's The Voice, isn't it? Who else is there who writes this stuff - YOUR stuff? No-one (although I do make apologies for a sweeping statement here, and freely acknowledge that I am hopelessly ill-read). But if, like a skinny person looking into a full-length mirror and feeling fat, your own truth is that somehow you're falling way short of an unfulfilled potential, than it is hard, I know, for anyone to convince you otherwise. Sounds like the mindset of all the great Masters of the Arts, to me! And of someone who walks a different plane, longing to inhabit that place of transcendency while yet living in the harsh and often callous greyness of the material world: See, plenty of creative fusion you're generating here! This reminds me of Aslan humming the song of creation to the new earth, and grass springing up wherever he places his big paddy paws... but then, that's just me! A lyrical rhapsody in blue, Jude; I think we're all humming along with this one! :)) TY Kate xx
Reviewed by Darcey Patil 3/23/2005
Poet's Lost Hum was a very intersting read. It offers clarity unto the mind that wants to free itself of the body to soar with the eagles but doesn't take the chance...
Reviewed by Mr. Ed 3/23/2005
An almost impossible feat to rekindle
What has faded from view

But yet, there is always hope.

A most interesting piece, Robert.
Reviewed by Sherry Heim 3/23/2005
Limiting our scope of vision will ultimately limit our source of inspiration as you have so beautifully penned in your verses here, Robert. We must write from beyond self and from beyond physical limitations if we are to ever express the true heart and soul of mankind. Very nice poetry and a clear discription of the feelings we have when we slump into writer's block.
Take care,
Sherry
Reviewed by Lynn Barry 3/23/2005
Sometimes we can't get the humming to stop and other times we are humless...BRAVO!
Reviewed by Paul Williams 3/23/2005
Must be about me then?
Reviewed by Mary Quire 3/23/2005
The true sum of writer's block.

M.Rose
Reviewed by andrea coltman 3/23/2005
Might only be a hum to you, but it's poetic artwork to me...best wishes Andrea
Reviewed by m j hollingshead 3/22/2005
poignant read
Reviewed by L. Figgins 3/22/2005
If this is you, go inside yourself. Take a break from blowing our minds. Maybe its time to think about all you've seen. You need peace to do that. And nobody tugging at your sleeve or looking over your shoulder. Leave the brilliant light behind...
Reviewed by Tiana ~ (Reader) 3/22/2005
I know this does not apply to you and it's your muse taking us to new levels as only you can do so wonderfully, Jude ...
Reviewed by SilverCeltic Moon 3/22/2005
Well done indeed! If you are thinking you are without creativity..you are wrong. ;) Silver
Reviewed by E T Waldron 3/22/2005
I know this isn't about you for you never failed
to peer beyond the rim of the horizon!
Superb write in any case;-)

etw
Reviewed by Judith Pleasant 3/22/2005
Oh Jude,
You have much more in you to offer than you realize. Listen to your soul and the visions and the words will come easily for you to put together into rhymes that will impress yourself as well as others.
There is still a lot of beautiful stuff inside you. Just LISTEN, and you will still get it out to put smiles or tears on peoples faces.
You have a lovely gift. Don't ever forget that. Others see it.
Blessings,
Judith
Reviewed by D May (Reader) 3/22/2005
No matter what you write about you always seem to end it with some type of light--coming out on the other side. Wonderful write Robert.
Reviewed by William Bonilla 3/22/2005
ROBERT
THIS IS A FANTASTIC WRITE
IT ALMOST DISCRIBES ME
AS OLD FART STILL TRYING TO HOLD ON
TO MY MEMORABLE PAST, NOW LOOKING TOWARDS
NEW AVENIUES OF SUBJECTS TO WRITE ABOUT
WITH MY OWN INNER EMBERS FLICKERING DIM
HOPE I STILL HAVE SOME JUICE LEFT
TO WRITE ABOUT WHATEVER IS LEFT.
THANKS FOR SHOWING ME THE LIGHT.

WILLIAM ....PEACE MY POETIC BROTHER
Reviewed by Nordette Adams 3/22/2005
So this is what comes of a wasted gift, one squandered on the whores of tradition, I suppose. A well-crafted melancholy write, Jude, and perhaps a warning to the lazy bum in us poets. Love the shadows you've cast here, magically in color. I see him wandering through the Bronx, sometimes stumbling over a discarded bottle, which then clangs against a rusty loosened grate. And you've stopped writing love poems just in time. I was so about to swoon. ;-) ~~Nordette
Reviewed by Ann Marquette 3/22/2005
amazing, so insightful...
i feel the struggle, the frustration, then acceptance and peace...
then (to me) the sky opens to new inner horizons...

ann

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