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Home > David C. Hightower

Recent Reviews for David C. Hightower

The Hanging Man Dreams (Book) - 3/26/2008 9:28:52 PM
What a new world this "den" has opened up to me. I will look for your book of poetry to expand my knowledge and feed my spirit. Cheers, Deborah

The Hanging Man Dreams (Book) - 2/25/2008 9:09:47 PM
Read it and re-read it. And this is the kind of poetry book that you want to keep on your night stand. It makes beautiful music to dream by-- just like the unfortunate hanging man. All the poems are deeply moving with great imagery, and delicious cadence and omolioteleton (my favorite word) which is to say-- all sorts of rhyming that isn't really rhyming, but slants and echoing, and similar sounds, and morphs, and euphony, and all sorts of curl-your-tongue-in-a-smile sounds that not only sound great read out-loud, but ring with truth, and haunt you. I certainly would recommend this to all English teachers and poetry students. Great Book, David! Encore, Encore! --Charlie

The Hanging Man Dreams (Book) - 11/4/2007 7:04:35 PM
I have read and heard several comments about "The Hanging Man Dreams", including an article by Author-Poet Aberjhani. It seems that there is no doubt that this BOOK is on the shelves to become a bestseller. I wish that "The Hanging Man Dreams" reach the million copies sold mark before the end of 2008... (Sorry for my modesty!) Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

The Hanging Man Dreams (Book) - 9/12/2007 12:00:26 AM
David, after reading your poems here on AD I had to get your book. I ordered it from and was not at all surprised to see that it had a 5 star rating from readers. I can hardly wait! David Perry.

The Hanging Man Dreams (Book) - 9/1/2007 11:24:32 AM
Exactly who is this HANGING MAN? How did he end up in such a situation? And how is it that he chances to dream under such precarious circumstances? He is, in fact, only partly an invention of the poet David C. Hightower’s pen, partly a product of legends that echo through the northern hills of Georgia, and partly the stuff of whispered family history. What is known is precisely what is reported in these remarkable pages: that a man making his way home one evening is suddenly ambushed––lynched, in fact, for reasons unknown to him. Struggle proves futile as he is overwhelmed, tied up, hung from the branch of a tree, and left there to die. Because the Hanging Man in question was white and not black, the event would seem to have been motivated by something other than racial animosity. What ensues following this attack is a long horribly dark night of one man’s terrorized, weeping, and dreaming soul. The poetry of "The Hanging Man Dreams" is unified less by a single theme than it is by a progression of complimentary themes, like a musical score building up from its first intriguing notes to a veritable exultation of chords and choruses. Pondering the nearly incomprehensible fate of the Hanging Man, David Hightower offers an amazing vision of what it must have been like to exist inside the spinning mind, faltering lungs, and struggling heart of a life balanced on the edge of extinction and madness. The poems that come whirling out of this spiritual chaos reveal Hightower as a poet deeply rooted in the history, ecology, folklore, and personality of his native north Georgia region at the same time that he instinctively transcends it. Aberjhani

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/22/2013 4:55:11 PM
David, your Shaman's Circle is a spiritual leap outside of the boundary of time. It is your very last line, "it is the shape of an embrace", that cements the bond between the two worlds, today and the future. It is a pleasure to once again read your work. Please send more our way. I wish you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/19/2013 11:16:13 PM
your friend will be impressed and pleased he's taught you well ...

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/19/2013 11:28:12 AM
While I don't believe that shamans have any special powers except the experience of life. There are things in nature tells us all the time that we should pay attention to and your poem brought my attention to that. Ron

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/19/2013 5:45:01 AM
Splendid vision here, David, transcendant in thought and comprehensive in delivery; it's good to see you posting, it's been a while, far too long in truth john

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/18/2013 7:45:47 AM
Lovely write about the symbolism of the eternal circle!

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/18/2013 7:32:21 AM
a woderfully worded description to create a vibrant image budd

The Shaman's Circle (Poetry) - 1/18/2013 7:14:59 AM
David, it is great to read your work again...Your words make the circle come alive and vibrant. Well done! Cheers, Dan

Listen (Poetry) - 8/2/2012 9:48:17 AM
Very evocative of a whole panapoly of humanity, conditions, groups and individuals. Two last stanzas in particular are sharply focused "... in this our home" it is all there, yet still gone... waiting, watching... present, past, eternal... haunting, calling. -- We never excape.

Soldier On The Wall (Poetry) - 5/14/2012 12:06:46 PM
You speak of life in general for so many go through life wondering what happened. Beautiful David, how many of us have found ourselves in a personal "war" of our own... only to rise again "flung in contradictory directions." I could write a lot, but I see the picture. Thank you Lily

MADE IN THE SHADE (Poetry) - 5/7/2012 5:45:07 AM
Such an idiom, just like lemonade on a sunny day made in the shade. But is this truly an easy life? If one were to read further into it, my other thought would see government control of our lives. What a scary thought. Politically for obvious reason I won't go there. But, think Soylent Green. All may be good at first appearance, but what follows. I think, me thinks too much and too deep! Great vision, thank you David

There Is That Pain (Poetry) - 5/6/2012 5:58:27 AM
For what once was a beginning of love shared, two souls have pursued their own dreams and lost what was most dear for each other. For who are we really when we lose sight of what is important. So driven - "we are helpless to reject it." Ultimately the "that must be lived through to make love complete" is the teacher. Beautiful David Lily

Grandfather Ghost (Poetry) - 5/6/2012 5:51:42 AM
How beautiful, "We waved at each other in passing." Perhaps not only in passing, you share a tremendous part of each other. "Drawing me along my path like foxfire in darkness." - Perhaps you are fulfilling his dream. What a wonderful tribute to him David. Lily

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 5/5/2012 5:12:40 AM
This marvelous look into the past, through earth's evolution over time, is precisely what writing is all about. This I so enjoy, this is creativity... this is history... this is that honor to wear it for a flicker of time when those beings walked the earth. This is wonderful. You inspire me, thank you. Love and Light

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 5/5/2012 5:07:10 AM
I love your style of poetry, you tell a story. You allow the reader, which is my favorite, to experience you through your eyes. You go on to write about the nature of this creature, she is a survivor quite intelligent. Such a beautiful painting you create. I must ask, are you a teacher? I see the bigger picture through your writing. Marvelous a good talent. Love and Light

Discovering the Old Language (Poetry) - 5/4/2012 10:36:22 AM
Isn't it marvelous how we affect youth. Just when we think we are not getting through, the light goes on through their struggle. Obviously through this student who completely forgot about her grade. I could see you in this poem as the teacher quizzically looking over her shoulder. Thank you this was marvelous! Lily

Estate Sale (Poetry) - 4/21/2012 12:37:27 PM
Like that of the graveyard, one must respect those who should now slumber

The Twin (Poetry) - 4/21/2012 12:35:12 PM
There is a connection that can ever be broken when hearts are shared and souls. What a lovely piece. Thank you

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 10/21/2011 4:41:54 PM
David, I always enjoy and admire the way you use realism to finally make us realize the unique, almost supernatural dimension of nature. Your writing is serene, yet full of surprises. Axilea

The Cleaning Lady At The Budget Inn (Poetry) - 9/15/2011 12:19:14 AM
mmm, God is this what people do when we clean their rooms, lol, I work at a Days Inn, I try to speak to all our guest, I love my job, so it's not hard to smile and be happy. This also reminds me of a song from Gordon Lightfoot about a cleaning lady.

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/30/2011 5:09:19 PM
Excellent observations woven into a tale of mistaken identity that anyone could have had! Also some life lessons to be learned and relearned by some here as your very first reviewer has mentioned.

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 8/28/2011 5:14:47 PM
Shop trinkets in the breeze, ship lights at sea amd the moon. So fitting, not sure why, but this poem will be with me for a long while. Reminds me a few places, I've visited and a few songs, I've heard. Maybe, it's just the kind of week I've had and this sums it all up, that I need a break from all the hassle it's taking to get some thngs organized that are going to ending for the good things that are coming in my life, my car, getting my driver's license back,and hopefully in the near future a house and my Choc. Lab. Can't take much more of this apt living. Thank you for the share. Coni Lea

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/24/2011 6:41:15 PM
MEow! It's a good cat story. My neice was born on a good cat-fight night. I heard those screams as real as a baby's, and went, flashlight in hand, out to the barn to see if a baby had been left there inexplicably. But while I was out, discovering that it was just a cat-fight, my parent's got the call that my neice was born. To this day, I can't separate cats from mention of her. --Charlie

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 8/23/2011 9:22:56 PM
...and the moon bows to see, to watch, to read.

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/23/2011 9:21:45 PM

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/22/2011 10:23:29 AM
Pure magic in these lines, David, that brighten the day and enrich the library of this old cat lover. =gene.

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/21/2011 9:25:00 AM
who would not be stricken with allure after reading you poem David --respect is the emotion spread in the beauty of artistic language -- respect of uniqueness, privacy and nature's lifestyles played out in myriad form -- "and though I know better" resounds with the pleasure of being mystified a bit by nature's many fluid imitations and survival techniques of deception -- your work leaves me with a renewed sense of calm David -- thank you for sharing -- I bid you love and peace my friend -- Jon Michael

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/21/2011 6:40:34 AM
David, as always a pleasure to read your fine work... Cheers, Dan

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/21/2011 5:59:56 AM
You kept me fully engaged with your expansive imagery, wonderful offbeat poem! I feel I have had a dynamic experience just reading this, so lucky to have come across it. Christine

The Cat I Mistook for a Bird (Poetry) - 8/21/2011 5:39:14 AM
There is such understanding in this poem, understanding of the need for distance and respect, and appreciation of survival and going on against the odds, no flinching or glossing over what is, and above all, for me, a strong spirituality pervades the lines. This is fine and elegant work, David. John

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/22/2011 10:15:48 AM
I admire this poem, in concept and perfectly controlled execution. So glad to be reading you again, David. =gene.

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/20/2011 8:14:31 PM
The essence of life, of having been. The remnant will long endure though the flesh knew only the brevity of fleeting existence. Now only the essence remains to drive the inquisitive nature of another time traveler with a measured span. Carrying the precious remnant of former flesh. David your poem is the harmony of the universe whispering legends of emotion to another generation. I am captivated by this work. I bid you love and peace my dear friend. Jon Michael

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/20/2011 6:24:37 AM
David, what a great story from ages past, which is a reminder too, that everything is connected. Cheers, Dan

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/20/2011 12:58:52 AM
Nicely done, David.

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/19/2011 4:35:37 PM
I love the whole idea of this. I have a little garden full of all sorts of interesting rocks, some of them fossils. I think creation is beautiful in all its forms, as old as the dinosaur, and as young as this poem. --Charlie

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/19/2011 3:28:00 PM
The Poet is anthropologist and archaeologist. Splendid feeling for and understanding of origins, David, and geologic evolution and then there is, of course, the writing...beautiful writing. John

I Wear a Vertebrae on a String Around My Neck (Poetry) - 7/19/2011 3:22:53 PM
Dear David, I'm happy to see you again on the Den. You took me on a long ago trip, before I started my presence on this earth. Nice to know that others have walked on it before. Enjoyed reading you, as usual. Your poems always take me to a different perspective on things. Nicely done. Love Emile.

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 6/18/2011 5:01:16 PM
I like you better than Billy Collins.

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 6/18/2011 5:00:01 PM
Only word I fought was "dust" -- since we're speaking of water. (Maybe flush/rush?) Reminds me of being 16 again, summer night, daring to swim out across the large dark lake at a summer resort in the mountains: spooky and calm, serene and ethereal (depending, of course, on who you're with). Simple/clean/great!

Invisible House (Poetry) - 6/18/2011 4:53:30 PM
Precise and clear, no wasted words, and a world of images. Bravo. Rick A.

Invisible House (Poetry) - 6/18/2011 9:43:04 AM
David, you have a way of transcending the description that is a rare gift. Those last four lines are wonderful indeed. Axilea

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/31/2011 3:08:55 PM

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/29/2011 8:14:08 PM
Original and pleasant to read!

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/29/2011 4:35:31 PM
Like the sensual pleasures of blossoms in Spring and the harmony of birds sweet songs your words drift into a cohesive panorama to feast my imagination on David. Too long it has been since you graced the den with your work my dear friend. I dig you love and peace. Jon Michael

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/29/2011 1:55:33 PM
Hi David, it's a great pleasure to be reading you again. Invisible House is superb writing in every way. -gene.

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/28/2011 7:03:26 PM
He's back! Much relief to see you, David, i thought we'd all lost out. Your trademark calmness and certainty of expression are in every phrase here evoking so much in the reader. John ps: i will write 'safari' soon jf

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/28/2011 5:23:29 PM
Enjoyed this very much. Vivid imagery and poetical expertize.

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/28/2011 5:12:33 PM
Gorgeous imagery here (not surprising, it is definitely one of your trademarks), but there's much more than that; there's atmosphere: thick and tangible awe. Also, there's plenty of assonance loosely planted within the walls of your poem. Take the first three lines for instance. Note the short "a" sound in "glance", "pasture", and "traffic", not to mention the inner assonance of "old" next to "homestead", and the slanting rhymes of "small" with "hill". It's sounds like that that make your poetry such a pleasure to read outloud-- like butter-- so delicious... Your biggest fan. --Charlie

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/28/2011 4:25:38 PM
I remember your work ... you were Poet of the Year on The Writing Forum a year after I was. As I recall you threw in the towel and baffled a lot of people. There is a 'Dry Creek Road' just west of 'Silver Lake' in the 'Eastern Sierras'. It's a place my wife and I fish frequently. One can catch their limit in an hour. "searching for the hand that planted them" seems almost a eulogy.

Invisible House (Poetry) - 5/28/2011 1:56:15 PM
David, it is so good to see you post your poetry again; it has been missed. This is a gorgeous it. Cheers, Dan

The Deer (Poetry) - 5/26/2011 10:00:55 AM
What I would give to live out in the country to watch this beatuiful scene. My father and I would go out in the late evenings, find ou favorite tree and watch the deer come in. Why anyone would want to shoot and kill a beautiful creature is beyond me.

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 12/24/2010 10:12:04 AM
I love the way your words pull me right into the magic of this experience.

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 11/9/2010 6:33:56 PM
I felt like reading one of your poems tonight and this was a heartwarming choice. Taste and past are a sensible combination here. Beautiful until the very last line. Axilea

The Deer (Poetry) - 10/18/2010 2:18:37 PM
what a wonderful image...thanks

The Deer (Poetry) - 8/22/2010 2:38:07 PM
Your words brought me there. . . Through graceful lifts into the air.

Grandfather Ghost (Poetry) - 8/6/2010 7:40:04 AM
So touching David...this one brought tears to my eyes. Just had to share it with mu husband. Thanks! Sue

The Deer (Poetry) - 8/3/2010 1:36:14 PM
This has so much meaning for me, David, as I'm sorrounded by Sika deer here on my Dorset heathland. You have "captured" their spectral qualities and gentleness vividly and with hallowed lines that speak of an awe and respect to which I can heartily relate: flicker like shadows of light through columns of silence... and especially: A timid gathering of ghosts, they nibble at the light of the moon. - which is divine! Thank you for this beautiful encounter so delicately rendered. xx

The Deer (Poetry) - 7/28/2010 3:45:14 PM
I'm very impressed with the imagery that your words have painted. I really loved the quote on your profile. I'm still hearing that music, only now I've learned to keep it to myself! duke larance - the drugstore cowboy poet

The Deer (Poetry) - 7/22/2010 4:19:56 AM
Movements in an inner landscape, moments that seem so dreamlike. The porch of memory and imagination... Axilea

The Deer (Poetry) - 7/2/2010 10:26:05 AM
David, perhaps a part of the soft beauty of this poem for me is its familiarty, the movement of deer I have seen so many times before although you carry the appreciation to a new height. It is incredible how light-footed they appear. I like your ethereal appeal, too. Timid ghosts nibbling at the light of the moon, a beautiul haunting expression........Jerry

The Deer (Poetry) - 6/15/2010 7:41:51 AM
I can say from living up here in the Ocala Forest, that your poetry really does capture the fleeting ghost-like movements they must make as they strive to feed and live "in the night" - there is no safety for them during the day. A beautiful rustic poem... best, michael

The Deer (Poetry) - 5/31/2010 11:53:53 PM
Delightful poem, David

The Deer (Poetry) - 5/30/2010 1:45:38 AM
Beautifully soft...almost like a whisper....I'm so happy to be back and reading your work again, David.

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 5/27/2010 6:39:44 PM
from mundane roots a marvelous piece of art and entertainment David -- it is open ended, limited in possibilities only by the number of available persons to query imaginatively -- a most enjoyable rendering -- may peace and love be always with you my friend -- Jon Michael

The Deer (Poetry) - 5/27/2010 6:28:53 PM
David, your rendering touches the flow of sensitive emotions only a man intimate with the ways of nature would know -- a man who is appreciative of the most wonderful of God's gifts -- to know where the switch of emotions is turned on silently, joyfully, is to know the way to eternal peace -- your work, this rendering is typical of your great poetic talents David -- it is a poem I read, and when finished felt sated with enjoyment -- thank you for sharing your talents with us -- may joy, peace and love be yours in great abundance my friend -- Jon Michael

The Deer (Poetry) - 5/15/2010 12:03:05 AM
vivid and engaging write, david. cg

The Deer (Poetry) - 4/27/2010 11:46:55 PM
This poem is as soft as the deer you paint. Your tones are soft and muted, and I especially love that n-l-m marriage at the end (mmmm, lovely liquids!) The irony of this poem, is that the noisiest word in the entire piece is the word "silence" with its screaming "i" and sustained hiss of "s"es. It's caught there in the middle of the poem, so that every word after it becomes even more soft--near intangible. All of your poems are so graceful--so elegant. I love how you see things. --Charlie

The Deer (Poetry) - 4/27/2010 1:48:58 AM
Suddenly we are transported to the gentle world of Bambi, before man carelessly threw a cigarette stump... Georg

The Deer (Poetry) - 4/26/2010 4:16:17 PM
Takes me back to p12 of 'The Hanging Man Dreams' - one of my very favourite pages, David, in a splendid collection. John

The Deer (Poetry) - 4/26/2010 2:16:03 PM
David, this poem is absolutely colorful. Cheers, Dan

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 1/24/2010 10:33:00 AM
David, I admire your visual imagination. "Haying Time..." takes me back to Oklahoma where golden bales were scattered across pasture land as far as the eye could see. Beautifully written! ~leslie

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 1/20/2010 4:46:29 PM
an enchanting write, david. some cube it, some stack it, some roll it--whatever the style, there is something special about those scattered bales of hay peppering vast expanses of open land... well done, poet, carolyn

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 12/9/2009 6:58:23 AM
" an invasion of mythical animals...their steps so light only silence can hear them..." peyote will do that to you. What a trip! Georg

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 12/8/2009 10:49:41 PM
David, your words...your use of language invoke such feeling....and my favorite lines,"They migrate into purple twilight,disappear into the night,their steps so light only silence can hear them."....simply beautiful.

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 12/8/2009 3:45:29 PM
David, You invest the scene with subtle mystery and a certain spirituality, mundane bales become characters with destinations and agendas...and we never know who or what they really are as they slip away - appear(ln2)/disappear(ln22)into their own world. This is how to make the ordinary worthwhile. John

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 12/8/2009 2:37:58 PM
Now that's taking 'haying' to a whole new level. Excellent write. Cheers, Dan

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 12/8/2009 1:36:56 PM
I absolutely love this-- the feelings especially that it invokes--stealthy... There's a picture I saw last winter that would go perfectly with this-- I'll have to google it and send you the link. --Charlie

Haying Time In Chattooga County (Poetry) - 12/8/2009 11:57:18 AM
A very nice allegory running through this, David, and I enjoy the quiet voice of the last four lines ending with "only silence can hear them." They must migrate west to pick up the bales here to take with them. I, too, find it interesting how insects, birds and other life changes around them. Even our dogs like to lay on top of the bales.......Jerry

Estate Sale (Poetry) - 9/24/2009 4:22:00 PM
I love the emotion of the hundred-year-old house, the personification. You give it voice and character and depth of feeling. Sad to think how someone lived their life so privately in a home they loved with the 'things' they loved surrounding them, only to have it all put 'on sale' once there are gone. Sad to think there was no one to leave it all behind to, no one who loved the old librarian and would love her house as she she ... sad how it all came down to the dollar. I really enjoyed this piece and the feelings behind it. ~Best, Elizabeth

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 9/17/2009 4:34:21 AM
Positively delicious, David--the whole of it. And I just spent ten hours yesterday canning up a couple of boxes full. As Cryssa mentioned below, we've a great aunt who had an orchard. Mom and Dad would loan us out to Aunt Melva's two weeks for every summer. Her kitchen always smelled of sweet fruit--cherries--berries--apricots--peaches--plums--nectarines and pears. I catch a bit of the smell from yesterday still. Gorgeous poem that brings those memories fore-front. By the way, you may want to relable this poem into the "food" caegory, as there are only a few poems in AD's archives under that category, and this one would show them all up grand! (grandly?) :0)

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 8/21/2009 5:36:47 PM
I glimpse a face of pity that whispers a secret healing to discarded dolls broken beyond forgiveness--these lines hold such depth, power and feeling!

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 8/21/2009 5:35:12 PM
so freeing-beautiful imagery

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 8/16/2009 1:37:50 PM
Ahhhh...what a heartwarmer, David! Your tender, poetic care for the bushes reminds me of my paternal Grandmother's beautiful...they really are "snowballs" in the mind of a child. Such a delight to read... Blessings and Love - Micke

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 6/17/2009 11:00:58 AM
Ah... I lost myself in the liquid lines. If you find my brain somewhere at the bottom of that lake, please return it. Seriously, this is as delicate as a waterlily and twice as beautiful. --Charlie

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 6/2/2009 2:32:32 PM
I've been up to my waist with fly-rod at night on a northern pond, with a full moon when all of sudden a beaver WHACKED! the surface with his tail. I nearly jumped out of those waders. But I'd never swim at night in Florida (needless to say!) Hey and I just read your bio. Your a Kentucky mountain boy, the stuff of legend and greeting cards! Cool. I have an Appalachian - Americana style on the piano that hasn't shown up yet in public mp3's. Someday I wanna spend time in those mountains and use that style. Maybe set one of YOUR poems to music. Gotta get your book first. (Your the real deal) I love the Apps!

Listen (Poetry) - 5/12/2009 9:41:50 PM
A people's heritage and ancestry may a have a "change of days" but these live on in the next generations of "mixed threads and remnants of those long gone" and preserve the freedom "not so easily gained". That is a treasure this poem speaks so eloquently about, and it is a blessing to read.

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/5/2009 3:33:31 PM
This is delicious...I love the imagery you create with your words...imagery that is strong enough to slice, or in this case to swim through. Cryssa

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/3/2009 3:06:27 AM
David, this has a spiritual feel to it, and to me, that's what being one with nature is. I, too, love the freedom and peacefulness that comes with "night swimming,"....and you've brought to mind my all time favorite REM song. Beautiful writing with wonderful imagery.

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/2/2009 11:34:20 PM
You are stirring that primeval feelings of the ones that once started life as amoebas and that the moon pulled out from that primeval soup. As always, showing excellency. Georg

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/2/2009 6:30:52 PM
I always look forward to reading something new by you David and this was no disappointment. Exquisite imagery.

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/2/2009 5:49:31 PM
David, Beautifully atmospheric and with a strong sense of other-worldly, "a child of liquid movement" who no longer needs the handicap of body - "my mind swims on alone," - but moves to another level of consciousness and spirituality. Fine, very fine writing indeed. John

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/2/2009 1:38:06 PM
A nocturnal swim. You feel one with all that surrounds you. Rather like being in the womb, or as close as we could imagine it. This is a soft, flowing beauty, David. Love "...I glide with fluid strokes/across that warm gaze/become a child of liquid movement, a ripple across the night." A fantastic image! Lin

Swimming At Night (Poetry) - 5/2/2009 9:33:28 AM
My thoughts go with you, David, on this nocturnal swim, at one with the night and "the moon's mysterious seas." I am at peace. Thank you. -gene.

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 5/1/2009 1:52:36 PM
A pilgrimage through your uncle's summer attic is certainly a tour de force that endures, David. We are breathing secrets and mysteries of truth and spirituality that permeate heaven and earth in the haven of this sacred space that journeys through worlds and minds. Your living language and concrete imagery enables us to grasp and hold this cornucopia of soul-expanding plenty. Thank you. What a wonderful place to be! Kate xx

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 5/1/2009 2:49:25 AM
Enjoyed your beautiful sharing David. Take care, Gwendolyn

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 4/29/2009 9:15:02 AM
Fantastic write....BHUWAN!!!

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 4/27/2009 7:45:59 AM
There is a strong presence in everything you describe and in every word that you write in this piece. It is inhabited by memory and a personal sense of spirituality, I think. I love the description of "Unstable skyscrapers of encyclopedias" and how naturally you end up with "I inhale their dusty knowledge, and double check their facts, but cannot find what I seek within the tilted tower. Interesting but incomplete, they offer me no comfort" The last stanza is also exceptional, each physical detail leads us to a metaphysical vision where finally words like "pity", "healing" and "forgiveness" stand out as a path to follow. Superb. Axilea

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 4/20/2009 1:01:25 PM
Lush imagery filled with a wonderful "Pilgrimage" Thought provoking as well. ~Gwendolyn

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 4/11/2009 12:24:00 PM
Laughing with joy! Personified to perfection. Kudos...Lin

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 4/10/2009 4:00:55 PM
Loved "the dirty white moon" and "the cracked yellow sun" references. The past holds a paralyzing hold on us until time allows us to put it in perspective and "sweet forgiveness" to put it in it's place. Although there is no forgetting. Great write, David...

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 4/1/2009 7:12:18 AM
I've really missed reading your poetry. You take us from one plane to the next without missing a beat. I got "nailed" on the crucifix bit, and was glad you had those Christmas decorations handy too. Incidently, I just finished re-reading "The Good Earth" by Pearl Buck, so your next couple of lines were especially cleansing to me. So thoroughly refreshed, I was ready to wander the cracked heavens with you and marvel at the well-loved dolls. As with all of your poetry, your imagery is fresh and vivid-- from the similie of the dark holding it's breath, to the discarded dolls "broken beyond forgiveness". Love it all. --Charlie

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/30/2009 11:59:12 AM
David, another absolutely great poem. I echo my sentiments 100% with the other readers. Cheers, Dan

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/30/2009 9:23:54 AM
Hello David, Reading a new poem by you is a great start for the day. Your poem is written with the imagery a good poem should have. I felt like I was there and could even smell the dust and other aromas of things past. The entire poems is wonderful but the last lines are pure genius: Beyond the dirty white moon and the cracked yellow sun I glimpse a face of pity that whispers a secret healing to discarded dolls broken beyond forgiveness. (I hope to find this poem in my in-box soon) Happy Day, Marcia

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/30/2009 7:25:09 AM
Your imagery makes everything come alive. When I read your poetry you draw me into a real world and I live it instead of reading it... Your last three lines are my favorite. Superb poetry, as always! Cryssa

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/30/2009 3:09:11 AM
"...past the rectangular hole on the wall, that hoards darkness like a held breath..." That is not poetry, that's a sublime state of mind that shares with us those secret feelings and chaotic thoughts like and stingy bee from one flesh skin to another leaving before any pain is felt, and yet, leaving a literary impression back, inside the eyes of the reader. Georg

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/29/2009 10:59:40 PM
David, you have taken us on a trip through history as seen by your uncle through your eyes. You write with such clarity and depth. These lines, "Step stealthily over the top stair past the rectangular hole in the wall that hoards darkness like a held breath," and your final three sentences...there are no words to express the beauty and feeling behind your talent. You always amaze me and never disappoint.

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/29/2009 5:48:57 PM
Dear David, what a nice poem which brought me to your uncle's farmhouse. It reminds me of my grandma's house. You describe it so well, I could imagine all the "Treasures" that you found. It is part of every family. Thank you for shatring, love Emile

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/29/2009 5:38:38 PM
David, This journey is pilgrimage indeed, a delve into the attic of history, emotion, image, recall, and is absolutely beautiful..."...the rectangular hole in the wall that hoards darkness like a held breath" and "...they invite me to feast on serpent flesh as they unwind the coils from my chest," are just two of the many brilliances in this poem, and the last three lines take my breath away. John

Pilgrimage (Poetry) - 3/29/2009 5:38:06 PM
I'm fascinated, David, by your pilgrimage into the dusty past. And by your precision poetic skill that permits me to go along. So many great lines, here, that I would have to repeat the entire poem to quote my favorites. But surely I would have to highlight the following: Step stealthily over the top stair past the rectangular hole in the wall that hoards darkness like a held breath Thank you, David. -gene.

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/25/2009 8:30:39 PM
I n c r e d i b l e !!

Listen (Poetry) - 3/22/2009 6:40:40 PM
Your poetry always leaves a lasting impression. This piece is moving and strong, just like all your other poems that I have had the pleasure of reading. I admire the way you combine elements that are highly visual or that appeal to the senses - the sounds are very present in this particular piece - with the awareness of a specific experience, place or time.

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/17/2009 5:09:59 AM
David, this is written with such grace and beauty. The imagery that you use in your writing is like no other. Truly beautiful.

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/13/2009 10:51:48 PM
there is an ella-gence here within a blink of cruel intention/i say to capture some for self...but isn't that the how love goes

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/13/2009 7:29:29 PM
the duplicity of beauty and its reaction to its momentum never surprises me ... nicely developed imagery, David ...

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/11/2009 7:44:02 AM
Making the inanimate animate here is incredibly rich. Blessings, J'nia

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 3:45:13 PM
David, What is pleasing and graceful and natural becomes extraordinarily beautiful and permanent in your gifted writing..."obstacles to detour around" transformed to "three plump aunts...girl beautiful in their finery." This is exquisite. John John

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 2:42:42 PM
Nature is full of surprises, David, and you've shared this one with us. Those bushes came mighty close to extinction; fortunately, your patience lasted just long enough for their yearly show to begin. Enjoyable! Connie

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 1:17:38 PM
The personification in this perfectly imaged poem is superb! have taught us that even old maids can be beautiful. :~) Cryssa

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 1:10:35 PM
Long time no see, David, but then the absence of your poems made the silence altogether more deafening until you rang the bell, like now. Great! Georg

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 12:04:37 PM
Dear David, As usual I like your poem, as I told you before, I learn a lot from your way of writing such a nice poem. Thank you for sharing, Love Emile

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 11:42:05 AM
So beautiful David. Thank you for your talent. Peace, Marcia

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 11:16:04 AM
Just as "the three plump aunts" are declared "girl beautiful in their finery," so are these superb lines made classically elegant and eloquent by the splendor bestowed upon them through the poet's pen. When I reached the sinister stuttering of the chainsaw, I thought about the Academy of American Poet's slogan for National Poetry Month 2009, which is: "Dare I disturb the universe?" Here, the temptation was palpable enough but the grace of the poet's pen proved mighty indeed :-) Much gratitude for the sharing, Aberjhani

Snowball Bushes (Poetry) - 3/10/2009 11:14:47 AM
Hi David, You write with impeccable imagery and metaphor. The old ones are wise if we only listen. Thank you for listening.. :] and sharing... and for putting the chainsaw back. :] Stay strong... In Spirit, Bear

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 3/8/2009 11:54:31 AM
there is a vivid sense of heritage and generational blending in this poem David -- the analogy of the richly ripened fruit yielding its sweetness, is powerful and telling -- ripe fruit picked and the essence tenderly preserved in loving style -- I find much to enjoy and relate in this work -- much love and peace -- JMW

Listen (Poetry) - 3/8/2009 11:45:36 AM
your heart told this magnificent story of many laments -- proud people placed on the fringes of societies and lands -- interred with promises unkept and desires gone unquenched -- these were the aspirations of noble men whose time was was unspent by them and they were never permitted to roam and create with freedom -- no bounties did those who came after reap from these gentle people of the earth -- for others saw fit to cheat them of their destinies and longevity -- mankind now suffers from those losses, never to be claimed -- your story impacts me with great sadness for the whole of humanity -- what order provides for man to determine the destiny of any other man -- and the answer shall be returned upon the winds, NONE -- may the light of love be the torch of peace and joy to you my friend -- Jon Michael

Listen (Poetry) - 2/24/2009 11:14:08 AM
I love it !!

The Cleaning Lady At The Budget Inn (Poetry) - 2/22/2009 7:20:49 AM
To watch movies of life. To notice their ways and wonder their reasons.

Listen (Poetry) - 2/22/2009 7:18:08 AM
Rememberance..past reflections of the earths crying!

Listen (Poetry) - 2/18/2009 7:04:42 PM
The tail your poem tells holds a note of melancholy, yet...also sings of honor for our ancestors. Your last stanza so aptly ties all of the threads together. My favorite stanzas are the third and fifth. Cryssa

Listen (Poetry) - 2/17/2009 1:29:44 PM
David, I am drawn again to your magnificent words. I am moved especially by the power of that third stanza. You add luster indeed to all of us who labor here in the shaddow of your talent. -gene.

Listen (Poetry) - 2/17/2009 2:55:16 AM
Listen to the wind which is coming with news of far away man's countenance, the approval to the whispers coming from the paper blessed by one poet. Georg

Listen (Poetry) - 2/16/2009 11:08:12 PM
Very moving piece, David. Your last stanza, especially meaningful and beautiful.

Listen (Poetry) - 2/16/2009 5:38:38 PM
...We the mixed threads and remnants of those long gone...exquisitely penned, all of it. Thank you for this write. J'nia

Listen (Poetry) - 2/16/2009 4:37:01 PM
David, This is threnody, an eloquent finely wrought lament for those who were deprived, robbed and marginalized by invaders and landgrabbers, and today who is listening? I was very moved by this poem as I always am by your deep and wonderful writing. John

Listen (Poetry) - 2/16/2009 2:00:05 PM

Errand (Poetry) - 2/13/2009 11:28:57 AM
.... every crack and twist of leather recounts his journey... not unlike each line etched by time upon our face. I really, really like this piece.Eloquent. Blessings, J'nia

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 2/5/2009 1:05:07 PM
Tasting the sweetness of these lines it's easy to see why the list of glowing reviews for THE HANGING MAN DREAMS continues to grow longer and longer. Aberjhani

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 2/5/2009 11:18:19 AM
the cardinal, its red song scattered in rigid notes across the indifferent snow like a heart plucked out, Vivid and symbolic; I find your verses powerfully evocative, David. Thank you. Love and peace, Regis

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 2/5/2009 11:13:43 AM
The jar of preserves in my mother’s kitchen holds too that lapping of the ocean Fine imagery and symbolism. Your verses reach my soul, David. Thank you for sharing this gift. Love and peace to you, Regis

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 2/3/2009 2:08:10 PM
All aspects of this poem are so sensitively conceived and written, man and nature, and you capture both with an acute eye for detail and essence. Love the way you conjoin them, weave them, too. Wonderful lingering feel to this poem that speaks of such lucidity, richness and warmth. Most original tribute poem. TY Kate xx

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 2/3/2009 12:15:32 PM
Oh this really is wonderful~Teri

Soldier On The Wall (Poetry) - 2/1/2009 5:57:51 PM
His carcass is not buried yet! yet the imagery permeates even the thickest collision of starfish shoals. I revelled in the reading of this inspired poem. Soldier of the Wall stands on its own for this gifted and unique poet. Cheers Alain

Shooting Star (Poetry) - 2/1/2009 5:52:56 PM
nice narrative and prose, and to think thoughts and reality transcend time and space, like a shooting star in a nanosecond. Cheers Alain

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/31/2009 1:25:49 PM
Touching. Memorable imagery of the island and the Georgia coast. My wife and I were engaged at Tybee. This poem made me remember the taste of summer's juiciest pears picked from my Paw Paw's planted tree. The fruit did tremble at the touch, like it was thrilled to be eaten! Very nicely done, David.

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/29/2009 9:12:07 PM
Nice flow to this poem and solid imagery. You say much in simple language beautifully.

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/29/2009 4:23:18 PM
Nothing is quite the same as those childhood memories of picking fruit in orchards. My great-aunt and uncle had an orchard where we would travel each year to gather the fruits of the seasons. I loved your description of the pear trees and also your line about the treasure of fruit being so yellow they sweetened the sun... Superb! Cryssa

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/29/2009 9:16:10 AM
First of all, David, my admiration of your skill in creating a powerful poem that haunts boyhood memories of rural Virginia. I suppose there may be an abandoned farmhouse in the experience of many of your readers. Thank you for this. -gene.

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/29/2009 7:53:47 AM
This piece evokes some very precious memories for me. Thank you. Very well done indeed. Blessings, J'nia

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/28/2009 5:28:52 PM
David, This is rich evocation with a deep truth woven into every line and idea, the motif of fruit, preserved fruit, so apt and powerful, totally appropriate. Excellent! John

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/28/2009 3:34:06 PM
Dear David as usual, I enjoy reading your poem. This one in particular as it is a master piece. It reminds me my visits at my grandma's and her jars of preserves which I used to sample. Blessing Emile

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/28/2009 8:15:37 AM
Your writing, David, is like the awakening of so many senses, it requires to be read and reread, just to savor all the flavors. Cheers, Dan

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/28/2009 4:21:48 AM
When we are near sweetness we are converted in hummingbirds, by the words of the poem and the jar of pears in our minds! Georg

Pear Preserves (Poetry) - 1/27/2009 10:57:45 PM
So often when I read your work, I'm astounded not only by beautiful imagery and the metaphors...but the reverence.I wanted to say that your first verse was my favorite...but it's so difficult to choose. David, this is stunning.

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 1/22/2009 12:49:57 PM
Very catchy, lively and amusing too. Great job. Cheers, J'nia

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/22/2009 12:47:30 PM
Superb imagery. Like it. the old cedar too proud to bend. Yes! Thank you for reviewing my poem. I like your style and will track your work. Cheers, J'nia

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/20/2009 6:46:25 AM
Nice work David...your thoughts can chill the warmest of a readers mind and we view this picture of Winter... nice... Art Sun...

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/16/2009 8:52:39 AM
As I was reading it, I wondered whether you were referring to a recent storm or that Big Blow we had in March'93 which your area got hit square on with. I guess you do get some serious snowstorms in the Ga. Mtns. I loved the category you classified it under: Appalachian Americana. I love that stuff - in music: I have recently been getting an influence of that style from the music on MaggiesMusic label which has much Celtic and Americana music - particularly like S.Appalachian folk music. Later, michael

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/15/2009 4:44:24 PM
David, There's mastery in your precise, ever so evocative imagery and your words and lines sing, truly sing. I particularly liked, "...too much of the white religion" and the riveting final line, "sacrifice to the winter god." Splendid poetry, splendid! John

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 2:04:25 PM
Power lines snap to stillness... Clock hands freeze at three a.m. and phones die in their sleep. We, who worship the occasional snow, awaken to too much of the white religion... I open my door; the air cracks... My boots crunch the bones of the familiar world... ... these lines totally electrified me, David, and were so acute and evocative I was frozen to the spot with awe and delight. Such cleanness and clarity - the exactness is stunning and enhances that pristine environment of chill that you depict for us here. Very, very impressed, thank you! :)) xx

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 8:30:55 AM
Technically, David, I love it. Charlie said it all. -gene.

The Twin (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 5:53:40 AM
I am glad that I have spent this morning reading Your posted works, and feeding my soul's bird with the seeds of Your poetic flowers. "The Twin" is a masterpiece. In admiration. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

The Cleaning Lady At The Budget Inn (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 5:47:02 AM
A poetic feast. I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

MADE IN THE SHADE (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 5:40:27 AM
To feed the learning mind, and to nourish the soul of compassion... "MADE IN THE SHADE" shines. I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

Hawk (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 5:26:39 AM
I like this poem for all of its poetic magnificence. I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

Shooting Star (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 5:19:41 AM
I have enjoyed the reading of "Shooting Star". I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

Estate Sale (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 5:11:51 AM
Outstanding and inspiring composition. In admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 4:59:14 AM
Welcome back! long time no see Kemo Sabe, I like very much the metaphores, which were right on the spot! telling us to remember about that "white religion" and boots crunching freezed snow. A real delight to read. Georg

Soldier On The Wall (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 4:34:41 AM
An inspiring and stmulating composition... A glowing poem. I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

Grandfather Ghost (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 4:28:46 AM
Unique depicting with outstanding imagery with platinum closing lines (Last three.) written with flawless brilliant cut diamond letters. In admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

Discovering the Old Language (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 4:14:42 AM
I like this poem. I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

There Is That Pain (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 4:07:37 AM
I have enjoyed the reading of a poetic grand, and felt the fragrance of a beautiful flower. I salute You, Poet. In admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

My Nephew At Seven (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 3:59:15 AM
Every time I am privileged to read Your works I remember words of His Grace Ralph Waldo Emerson, and His Holiness Hesiod. The reason is that most of the things they said that a Poet does ~ You do! In respect and admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

My Cousin (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 3:44:52 AM
Outstanding composition... A full tray of poetic ambrosias. I salute You, Poet. In admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 3:35:32 AM
A poetic feast. In admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 3:25:33 AM
I have enjoyed the reading of this composition. A poetic glowing star. In admiration, Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/14/2009 1:58:22 AM
David, your imagery is so truly beautiful...pines bent into green lit tunnels....the description of the cardinal, "like a heart plucked out, sacrifice to the winter god,"...and my favorite lines..."We, who worship the occasional snow,awaken to too much of the white religion."...AMEN! Just beautiful!

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/13/2009 7:29:56 PM
Exceptional poem of imagery and rhythm! I love this poem, and have read it so many times, that page is a bit stained. The image of the red on white is vivid in the end, and the whole atmosphere is both stunning and stilled at the same time. And I love how you've conjured up memories in my own mind of power-outages in the dead of winter, and still with the animals to feed and milk. Their sounds, and every other sound are unusually loud against the stillness of everything frozen--perfectly put in your poem. Your alliteration herein works powerfully well to incorporate both the startling sounds, and the muffled stillness of the moment. Your s's in the beginning snap and sizzle in the air--in the readers' minds, and then, you continue on with stilled w's and and r's. --I can't put it all here, but for the readers-- check out how he uses repeated sounds to create echoes of what he writes--the crunchy sounds of "c" and "ch"-- the windy "w"-- it's a perfect pattern for how to use this tool in writing. You've mastered it-- perhaps through some arduous manipulation, but certainly not completely. To write that fluidly, it's got to come mostly intuitively-- and therein lies your genius. --Charlie

THE BLIZZARD (Poetry) - 1/13/2009 6:38:36 PM
As always... a master of imagery! Loved the vivid descriptions of the world after an ice-storm. Cryssa

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 1/8/2009 7:17:55 PM
Extraordinary, very powerful. You create a memorable atmosphere in this poem. "He stares through stitched lids" I love the imagery here and throughout this piece. Axilea

There Is That Pain (Poetry) - 1/7/2009 5:47:39 AM
Wonderful!!!!!!! ''Lovers whisper in the night as they drift away forever joined into their own separate dreams''-----BEAUTIFUL!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 12/22/2008 7:31:20 AM
Perfect title..and description of an undamaged soul. Enjoying the simple things unaware of the heartaches of the world...or else just don't care! CarolHawks

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 12/19/2008 12:27:05 AM
So perfectly told............and the imagery astounding. If I looked the word poet up in the dictionary, I wouldn't be surprised to see your name beside it!

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 12/18/2008 3:14:11 PM
rests in the nest of his own long hair... David, just two of the unforgettable lines in this salty, smoky poem created by the master's hand to delight an old sailor's heart. -gene.

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 12/18/2008 10:24:06 AM
I think you could make a poem of anything and everything. I can just see you standing on Tybee Island shore, looking at that flotsam (or jetsam) whatever it is and the poem forming in your head. And your words can make me see it just washed up their in a gruesome sort of way. Looking forward to the next one...michael

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 12/18/2008 9:43:27 AM
In the present, oblivious to all that surrounds him, except that which is far off. Excellent write, Cheers, Dan

Shrunken Head (Poetry) - 12/18/2008 5:31:42 AM
Yes my friend, old sailors do nurture silence. A unique way to have a communion with the salty souls, your poem. Georg

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 12/10/2008 5:07:22 PM
your poetic insight into what most would breeze over as the insignificant spasms of a crazy youngster are most rewarding -- your choice of words, relating and telling the story so elegantly, accurately and permitting us to glean , just the right perception -- I enjoyed this work, it left me refreshed with new ideas of observation -- peace to you David as you observe, the art of the dance -- JMW

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 12/10/2008 6:55:46 AM
Nice work David, interestingly we wish for those ideas of life where we are like the ones who are blind to the ways of the world...where we can become like them and dance away the very moments of be a part of them would mean we are the dancing fools of our very own dreams... nice work... Art Sun...

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/26/2008 2:25:35 PM
This ties in beautifully with the favourite quote mentioned on your Biog, David. It's a wonderful expansion of the idea and strikes a real chord in my own soul. The visuals here are great, from the observer's point of view and, for me, they conjure what it means for each of us truly to inhabit the reality of what "lies between our ears", unseen and unknown to onlookers. And it brings out another truth that music and media impress upon our minds and senses quite contrasting worlds to inhabit. Reckon that I, for one, will always be a dancing fool! Thoughtful and tightly-crafted work. Thank you, Kate xx

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/26/2008 1:14:37 AM
...a fine write...images and thoughts...find movement in your words...for all seasons. excellent David... John

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/24/2008 8:57:11 AM
Great title and poem.. and like you said maybe better than the news and other "distractions" adults drown the morning in... but then look at some of today's lyrics and "mechanistic" rhythms and you wonder? The kids don't seem any better for it... I'll be dancing to the rustling of "my bamboo tree" while I'm doing my yoga moves... As usual "you ARE the poetic observer par excellence!"

Errand (Poetry) - 11/24/2008 6:26:30 AM
I have enjoyed the reading of "Errand" for its contents and poetic aroma of wisdom. I did get a flower in the last stanza: "The fire dies, the picture fades; his shoes by the chair are carved epitaphs of silence. Our footsteps as we climb the hill are raindrops on winter leaves." I salute You, Poet. Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/24/2008 6:22:04 AM
An interesting picture... "The Dancing Fool" sings to call for awareness... Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/23/2008 5:24:42 PM
David, not only a great observation, a visual joy, a musical delight as we dance along, but also a technical feast: a desert dervish celebrating the dawn, dancing to rhythms only he can hear... music his muse wonderful alliteration throughout. -gene.

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/23/2008 8:02:42 AM
David, you have such a genius way to create visuals in the heart and mind, this poem is no excception. Well done! Cheers, Dan

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/23/2008 5:57:11 AM
You make me to see that one dancing to a music inside his head (and thanks for it! whit the rhythms going around) with this poem you painted for an old man a picture of thinks we don't understand, because we never ever danced like that or went around seemly talking to ourselves (what with those new phones!) Georg

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/23/2008 3:11:04 AM
David, I love this. The imagery so perfect, and these lines, "Invisible in the classroom, he is a mythic god when alone," are my favorite. I think we all can learn a lot from the young!

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/22/2008 9:03:01 PM
I am glad that you ended the poem as you did...I was a little offended that you would call this dancer a fool, but ending it as you did took all offense away... hee, hee... Maybe I felt that way because I could see my exuberant six year old...dancing like that...minus the headphones and just dancing to music in his own head or mouth... hee, hee... In the end, you are right...maybe we are the fools for not getting up and joining the dance. Cryssa

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/22/2008 8:15:57 PM
I love this a lot-- I think it's because your dancing fool reminds me for all the world of my little brother-- you know the one-- anyway, it's precious to see the hidden side of invisible people. This reminds me also, that when I'm laughingly calling someone else a fool, the joke's on me. Better to hear the music and dance, than to hear and seek the gloomy and go placidly through life. On another note (no pun intended), I love the end sounds in this poem. You've got an on-gooing "oo" theme --also the short lines of "morning", "spring", and "green". It ties it all up into a marvelous package. I also love the visual images made with his carving the air and whirling. I did enjoy his dance! --Charlie

The Dancing Fool (Poetry) - 11/22/2008 6:22:31 PM
David, With superior crafting you turn a simple, everyday observation into a meaningful lasting poem; have to comment on "a mythic god when alone" fine that is! This work endures. John

Errand (Poetry) - 11/19/2008 7:24:57 AM
The first time I read this..I had a picture in my mind. The second reading continued the picture...powerful yet eloquent writing. CarolHawks

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