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Odin Roark

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· Perceptions


· Prosetry at Work

· Said and Unsaid - Vol 1


Short Stories
· Cave Cracks

· Bubble Choices

· Surreal Dummy--Still Here

· IT

· Faux Companion

· Take Me, I'm Free (Flash Fiction)

· Beer Neck Flower

· Closed

· What Do You Do?

· Dream-Blisters

· Discipline of the artist

· The Dogs of Sochi

· A Crow With Super Smarts

· Targets Be Warned

· Simple Times (an observation)

· Cavemen in Tuxedos (an editorial)

· Ghost Town Ghosts

· Note to Self

· Essay on Poetic Theory

· Love... Each Day

· Epiphanies In Progress

· Crushing Silence...

· Truth Can't Lie

· Nature's Romance

· Wounded Air

· Bloviating Defamer

· Addiction

· Introspective Road

· Hiding

         More poetry...

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Books by Odin Roark
  Boundaries - the focal length of life
by Odin Roark
Thursday, August 02, 2012
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Odin Roark
•  Love... Each Day
•  Epiphanies In Progress
•  Crushing Silence...
•  Truth Can't Lie
•  Nature's Romance
           >> View all 1,089

An experiment in time and space, as seen through lens of various focal lengths, varied perception realized at different ages.

(the focal length of life)

Shutter open...

25mm memory - Through the waning haze of anesthesia comes the sheet over my face.  The distorted shadow of Mother as she pounds my chest, pleading for life to return, ever faithful. 

35mm memory – The tilt of the frame, high above the green grass. My dog Rusty, peering up at me, all shiny, warm, sad eyed, faithful.

Years pass.

50mm - The here and now.  Normal they say.  Yeah, this is supposed to be the lens that doesn't lie.
The image of father’s hand shaking mine
The tears dropping onto the clinging of his grasp
The smell of motor oil ever present on his person
The sweet, sweet farewell, faithful, even in death.

Years pass.

Like a nightmare, Mother lies fetal between the bed's rails. 
With the touch of angels, her fingers draw my cheek to hers.
The cowardice of guilt shrinks my falling tears into desperate mist upon her face.
She closes her eyes one last time, ever faithful.

Years pass.

Finally, success.  Just like the onion skin promised.  The professors were right.  But, no... too much here and now.  Too much perfect.  Something’s wrong.  Addiction?  To what?

Years pass.

500mm - Eyes strain through ever faithful Visene.  Holy shit.  Look up there... ahead.  Way up there.  That’s Me?
Crank the focus.  Yeah.  That’s… No!  That’s not me... is it?

Final years pass.

Be wary of your 50mm. 
Normal may not be truth. 
Seek out the 500mm.  Look through it once in a while. 
It’s there for you to see ahead.  Yeah… it’s your soul.  It’s love. 
Someday it will become all the focal lengths... all the frames. 

Why do we insist on boundaries?

Shutter closed.

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Reviewed by Budd Nelson
interesting write Odin
Reviewed by Morgan Merriweather
I appreciate the time shot freeze frames here. Those precious first and last of lasts are what make up the entire volume, the whole season, the everything. We don't always see the best or the worst on the horizon. There are many who will attest, that is probably a good thing. We can only hope were smart enough to grab the good and keep it and release the bad quickly. A picture tells a thousand words, only part of the story! Or something like that. ~ Morgan
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
And then there are those who claim we do not insist on boundaries at all. The outer space explorers, those who climb unattainable heights of mountains. The ones who find cures for diseases which would, fifty years ago kill us, but not we have moved past those boundaries and are saving lives. I do, however, agree that it is better to look through the 500mm for clarity and self satisfaction, not too sure about the soul.
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