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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

         More poetry...

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by jude forese
Saturday, June 19, 2010
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



a dream can lose direction
like a monarch butterfly
fluttering across wet sand
desperately seeking
to regroup with windy recall
a wild horse
can become confused
when the landscape is no longer familiar
its strong heart
maintains its ample body
running heatedly into the horizon
where the herd is no longer seen -
sometimes, words flee the eye of the poet
their meaning absolved from being written







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Reviewed by Axilea MU 7/2/2010
Poetry is the moment of exception, a strange encounter takes place.
Interesting parallels, to lead us there.

Reviewed by Sheila Roy 6/27/2010
An interesting poem, Jude. I like it when the rest of the herd is out of sight:) Sheila
Reviewed by Jason Wise 6/22/2010
Beautifully written and very, very true.
Reviewed by Debashish Haar 6/21/2010
All the images meld, transmute, and then again meld into a whole ocean of quest, mind travel, "butterfly's fluttering across wet sand", and the "words that flee (or escape) from the eye of the poet" together with the tie up "meaning absolved from being written" (as well unwritten) are some excellent evocative images that only create, diffuse, and again build that "poetic desire".
Last two lines gives the hairpin turn (shall I call "heroic ending") and direction to this well crafted poem, and shows that the narrator is still in quest of that absolute perfection, but he's conscious and can even anticipate what eyes can miss!
Reviewed by David Hightower 6/21/2010
Jude - thought provoking poem. Loved those last two lines,

sometimes, words flee the eye of the poet
their meaning absolved from being written

- David
Reviewed by La Belle Rouge Poetess Of The Heart 6/21/2010
The wild horse is strong, the monarch delicate but proud. Wonderful poem Jude, you will capture those words.
Reviewed by Kate Burnside 6/20/2010
Although this is expressive of a desire to perhaps be still to take stock and refind direction, I think it possibly answers its own quest: that final couplet is key, anchoring the whole and is testimony to the philosophical integrity and writerly maturity that it takes to be silent, rather than to belie meaning by misrepresenting it half-cocked. It is common, I suspect, for us in our enthusiasm to run with an inspiration or poetic conceit before it has properly reached its potential zenith within us; fleeing words are therefore a signal that the greater work is yet to be done subconsciously before meaning can adequately be deduced. In this way, words are under no obligation to stick around if they are not yet ready to reveal anything! :)) I very much like the countertensions you thus set up here: the need for stillness until the fleeing stops.

And I'm gratified to find our Hall of Mirrors mind-matrix still at work; I wondered whether you would somehow pick up that I had the Hendrix "Little Wing" lyric running through my mind when I wrote my last poem? I see the "butterflies and zebras" are both here - well, according to my string-theory reasoning, your heated wild horse in an unfamiliar terrain could well be a zebra, right?! :)) LOL!! Again, throwing in a totally subjective take on this poem, the atmosphere is very evocative of the windswept beaches of Costa de la Luz, which I love. Finding your stillpoint, knowing that the unseen inner landscape is all important, should cause the winds to drop and the compass to again find true north. Go placidly, Amigo. KirKus Kate xx
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 6/20/2010
I can relate very closely to the thoughts that you share about words, Jude. Thought-provoking verses; thank you for sharing them. Love and peace to you,

Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan 6/20/2010
i like this, love the depth, the provokation of thought
Reviewed by J'nia Fowler 6/20/2010
I wonder if they don't return at a later time after they have been seasoned by the raw elements of life. Deep and worthy of a second, no third reading. J'nia
Reviewed by Georg Mateos 6/20/2010
You, as a poet, can't expect absolution for dark thoughts never written, but the silent applause from hearts that can't find where they are going.


Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 6/20/2010
I've been that wild horse at times, seeking familiar write deep from within your soul, Jude.
Reviewed by Amor Sabor 6/19/2010
So many times those words have often escaped my grasp...and then, it does not hold the same meaning when it was fresh upon my mind. Excellent work as always.
Reviewed by John Flanagan 6/19/2010
...there is something of dirge and lament here, Jude...more than just something

stay well

Reviewed by Felix Perry 6/19/2010
I can relate to this one for as writers and poets we tend to live a lot of what we feel and feel a lot of what we live, then writer about it all.
Reviewed by George Carroll 6/19/2010
We all need a land mark to maintain our direction and not become confused.
Reviewed by Ed Matlack 6/19/2010
Damned if you were'nt speakin' of me with those last two lines, happens all the time, perhaps I got "oldtimers" disease...? e
Reviewed by M.Bennett Hooper (Mikii) 6/19/2010
Reviewed by Rose Rideout 6/19/2010
As usual Jude you have never dissappointed us with what you write.

Newfie Hugs, Rose
Reviewed by Amber Moonstone 6/19/2010
Jude, I am sure that we all absolve you from the lack of your written words. That is not to say that we certainly have missed your golden pen. We are all hungry for the words of such a master poet that we patiently await your next offering with love and acceptance.

The stanza about the wild horse got to me. It spoke to a deepness within my being. (Go and read my poem "Wild Fire", it makes me think of how I felt at the time that I wrote that poem)
We are all wild horses yearning to ride a wild free landscape. Sometimes our obligations and commitments hinder this freedom. Dreaming is the vehicle to that portal of freedom and fantasy. Dreams tell everything about the hidden messages that only our soul knows. When we dream, we dream in the color of our soul, sometimes black and white; when our logical mind seeps into them. (of course that is the devil's advocate so to speak, to our dreams becoming reality!) Don't allow black and white to color your dreams, find what is really in your soul and go for it, even if it means changing your image of what your landscape "should" be.

Very thought provoking poetry as always, my dear Shaman.

To dreams and to the freedom of dreaming.

Much peace, light and love,

Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader) 6/19/2010
in my case, words don't exactly flee the eye of the poet. they implode inside collapsing brain cells like submarines tumbling toward sea beds.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 6/19/2010
Absorbing thoughts, penned with resolve.

Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater 6/19/2010
Things have changed, haven't they? It's really no longer recognizable. Just another site obliterated by shallow sands blown into the horizon of nothingness. Herds go elsewhere to graze...dreams have to find their way to become reality one day or they die out...I've missed your poetry,'s to the dreamers and the windmills watering their literary pastures...

Reviewed by m j hollingshead 6/19/2010
as always, your work inspires
Reviewed by Debby & Gordon Rosenberg 6/19/2010
i can relate to this..luv the contrasts of the gentle butterfly and powerful horse here
Reviewed by Sherry Heim 6/19/2010
It is sometimes difficult to comprehend what the sub-conscious mind has intended, until we link it to the conscious. It is there that the dream seems reach a higher degree of clarity. To live the dream is always a blessing and a new and deeper delving into introspection. Lovely poem, Jude.
Take care,
Reviewed by Karen Nivens 6/19/2010
I love this. It is meaningful to me. I mainly write to clear things out of my head.
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