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Odin Roark

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Books by Odin Roark
  Unfinished Manuscript
by Odin Roark
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Odin Roark
•  Love... Each Day
•  Epiphanies In Progress
•  Crushing Silence...
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•  Nature's Romance
           >> View all 1,089

The questioners in this poem struggle with the unanswered question that the institution of adoption, by law, can withhold. Some say that is how it has to be.

Unfinished Manuscript

Somewhere lives a buried name
Now but dust
But still…

Searching has its pluses
Hidden answers
Tethered to one’s eyes
Play hide and seek
While each micro film flickers history
Genealogy trees rejoice
Their pages
Like withered leaves
Bathe in precious light
From lamp and window

Picture books
Their sepia to black and white images
Crowd each sheet
Wanting so to be recognized


Searching has its pluses

How patient the tools employed
Such carefully chronicled pasts
Housed somewhere amidst dust of years
Knowing our loneliness
Knowing how pain aches for its identity
Lingering among the abandoned
The orphaned
The adopted
Their DNA needing but one connection
One match
One partner
To dance the night away
Where music never heard before
Might make harmony of dissonant notes
‘Til now forever lost to the unfinished manuscript

Somewhere lives a buried name





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Reviewed by Keith Rowley
I read this quickly, intuiting a well constructed flow of images. I see flickering light and shadows, imaginary memories and dust lying on pages never written. I like it.
Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
Significant topic, brought to life by the ancestry trees flickering their leaves, Alhambra water truck sequins, hide and seek...see it-don't-see it-don't, shown in your line: "Searching has its pulses." Very effective. ~~ Diana
Reviewed by John Flanagan
for many, Odin, a very sensitive and demanding
subject..some can handle better than others;
those involved are often seen as victims;
i'm impressed by the use of 'buried name'

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
I haven't commented on this because I, to this day, do not know my parents, and I just didn't want to get into it here. When I accidentally found out I was adopted I asked who were my mother and father. They lied. That was a bad night in a small Arkansas town by the name of Taylor. I hated the two people who knew, but would not tell. They said she got killed in a car wreck. Lairs. I'm seventy-three-years-old and I would STILL like to know the names of either or both of my parents.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull
It is a tragedy that so many children were adopted while their parents were scrubbed from the record. We know now that was wrong, and DNA is helping us find birth parents and long-lost brothers and sisters. Still, as your unfinished manuscript points out, there is unfinished business.

I wonder if my cousin, Jeffrey Hull, adopted as a baby in San Francisco, knows who his birth parents were. It is strange that Steve Jobs knew who his father was, but never contacted him.
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