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Keith Rowley

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· The Aquarius Key, A Novel of the Occult

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Books by Keith Rowley
  Broken Soul
by Keith Rowley
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Keith Rowley
•  Warrior Of The Dark
•  In the Beginning
•  The Shadows of Ignorance
•  Farewell my brother
•  Night's Edge
           >> View all 61

A terribly sad image of a lost and lonely soul just entered my head and this came pouring out. I'll probably work on it more, but the image evoked great pity in me and I need to post this right now...
PS: I renamed this on some good advice from a kind reviewer, Diana Legun - thank you Diana.

A broken woman with a broken heart
Loads up her life on a broken cart
Reaching for the love of a long lost day
For the laughter of children the dark took away
A flash of bright memory of candles and gold
Of Bright smiling faces in days bright and cold
Of the strength and the warmth that kept cold at bay
In the days of her beauty that the dark took away
Ashamed deep inside of what she’s become
Of the marks on her arms and the stench of cheap rum
She thinks of the love of her parents that day
When the dark came inside and took them away
There now she sits in the door of a shop
The cart’s loaded up but she has to stop
She knows she must go on into the day
Looking for hope that the dark took away
She shivers, draws tight the thin fabric she wears
And cries as the scruffy old blouse rips and tears
Remembering wardrobes of furs smooth and grey
In her grand house that the dark took away
Old is her face but see when she smiles
The beauty of youth still shines through her eyes
Recalling the days when men queued for a day
For a glimpse of the love-light the dark took away
The snow swirls around her and she blends with the chill
A desperate old woman with a cart on a hill
Will no one please love her, take her in for a day
Or are we the darkness that throws her away 





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Reviewed by Lark Pogue
It's not often that something stirs me this much, maybe because many of us could be a heartbeat away from this reality. This really heightened my senses (goose bumps!)
Reviewed by Andre Bendavi ben-YEHU
What makes the history of a Poet is not the number of pages written, but the number of souls inspired by her or his work.

Poet Keith Rowley, Your Quill leads one to cerebration, intellectual sublimation; and ontological wisdom.

"Broken Soul" inspires, edifies and shows why... It brings an assurance that "when we understand that we are the Human Race, there will be no places for Eris and Ares on this planet."

Healthy long life through a blissful creative living!

In respect and appreciation,

Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Reviewed by Deborah Tornillo
Are we the darkness that throws her away......very intriguing, BUT there is always light at the end of the tunnel - it's called Hope and all souls thrive on it!

God Bless You,
Reviewed by Kathleen Janz-Anderson
A magnificent piece that can be taken in many different ways. All that's left after a horrible turn, is shame, and darkness, and the memories of better days. I just don't understand why in this United States of America that we let it happen. They make their own choices, yes, but not in the right state of mind.
Reviewed by richard cederberg
The imagery in the first stanza sets an unshakable foundation for the development of your insight, Keith. Fictional or not; a sobering illustration of seedtime and harvest in a persons life. Altruism is woefully lacking in this shit-hole of a world system. A well balanced and rhymed story-poem. Enjoyed!
Reviewed by Victoria's Poetry & Voices of Muse
Excellently emotionalized, my heart feels for her.
Homelessness is a horrible feeling, and too
the ultimate outcome for drug addictions unfortunately
The work of the enemy steals lives anyway he can

Lost Lives Inside Lost Love
Reviewed by Sandy Hoynacki (Reader)
This is reality painted with words, in every way. I love how you have sketched the many faces of drugs. I worked as a nurse in a drug & alcohol treatment center for 9 years. You have painted with perfection, the likeness of the patients...Inside and out...Marvelous..

Reviewed by dan Rosenhagen
Great work Keith, I have seen many homeless street people, and I envisioned one while reading this. Who knows what their tales may be, but I think much like this one.
Your ending has truth as society and "the man" has forgotten her.

The U.S. just spent 6 billion landing a robot on mars.
although there will be countless advances in technology
and even in superior products, how can you compare it to
wiping out poverty or shelter the homeless?
Yes maybe we are the darkness.

Great Job Keith

Piece and love forever
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
Trying to understand "Or are we the darkness that throws her away." In the poem she "Reaching for the love of a long lost day / For the laughter of children the dark took away."

Again she remember "days of beauty that the dark took away."

Then there is the time when her parents "when the dark took them away."

Now she is "Looking for hope that the dark took away."

And if you can believe it, she "Remembering wardrobes of furs smooth and grey / In her grand house that the dark took away."

She is old now and the darkness took her youth and beauty away.

And, of course the ending when we are asked to ponder, "Or are we the darkness that throws her away?"

Not trying to be mean here, but of all the chances she had, and she had many, isn't some of the blame for her misfortune some, or a lot, of her own? I think so.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
A chilling tale you have told. How life (the dark) can take away and leave you out in the cold. We must be willing to help if we can (and I have). “For there but for fortune go you or I.”

Reviewed by Felix Perry
Although this is almost medieval like in it's presentation, I can't help thinking metaphorically there are so many seniors out there even today, going through very similiar circumstances.
Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
I'm flattened. This is a gasp of a great poem in my eyes, flawlessly delivering the vision. The form, the flow, the resounding "....that the dark took away." You have neither said too much, nor too little and saw with three eyes. I feel no melodrama here, and no contrivance, which is astonishing if this was not a physically-present vision, but one imagined. (The only suggestion I have is about the title: it places the crux of this piece in front of our minds, and I think it has its greatest power at the end.) How beautifully this poem exudes abundant tenderness; and the craft of your vocabulary choice in expressing this reaches fathoms deep into the word well, to bring up the most effective ones. That last line.....leaves me staring. Excellent. ~~ Diana
Reviewed by m j hollingshead
well said, enjoyed the read

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