Visions of an Introvert (poem) by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen on AuthorsDen

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Visions of an Introvert

by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen — Read all 1,670 poems by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen

Tuesday, November 11, 2003

I saw a shallow grave dug by
the shallowed grave of pessimist’s eye.

(she swallowed earth, expanded girth,
and viewed her grave with silent mirth.)

I saw the hand of Man club nigh
the heads of Man with fettered sigh.

(she handed self a club of words
and battered worth before its birth.)

I saw a past of tense fly by
the hands of Time forever spry.

(she pressed pretense into a bird
and flung it high to sing her dirge.)

I seem to hear a lullaby
proclaiming death to those applied.

(she hears the end of earth’s bare bones
and feels the need to renege on loan.)

Erin Moen
11/11/03
Copyright 2003 ©

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Reviewed by Tracey Hardie

Reviewed on November 12, 2003

Excellent write... very deep.

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes

Reviewed on November 12, 2003

very nice write Erin!!

Love Tinka

Reviewed by Transcendental Poet (Reader)

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

GREAT work, ERIN! To my eyes a winner!

justin

Reviewed by jude forese

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

like the inner voice within this poem... well done!

Reviewed by E T Waldron

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

Erin I love the way you capture a moment and reduce it to your dimensions! no one does it quite like you...I love your play one words in this one! Creative and unique!

Reviewed by Robin Spicer

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

Very deep. I hve thought about this piece. It provokes visions of my inner self.
Roin

Reviewed by Jack Roberts

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

Very nice Erin!

Jack

Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

All poetry, to me, is a definement of a moment, which I try to portray in its depth of feeling. This is such, circumstances convulge, despair sweeps lives into a pile of helpless flotsam, time moves over and on...moments of time, a forte is to divine the aspects of their meanings. My sister-in-law is dying, my companionable neighbors moved, my, my, my...all of the strings that bind a moment of a person's life become emplaced into the feelings spurted into the moment. I try to refine those moments into poetry. Whether it is understood or gives a 'feeling' of the piece to unsettle a mind, that is my intent, to make a person think or feel the emotion inferred. To make one mind look at another in a new perspective is the ultimate high in writing poetry. We are all unique, it needs to be celebrated, not compacted into nothingness.

Reviewed by Helga Ross

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

This is altogether poetic, witty and profound.
I enjoyed.

Reviewed by Ed Matlack

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

Hate to be a mimic here, but have to go with what Deborah and Sandie said, too much above my head here...Erin, I love all you write, even if sometimes I don't quite understand them. But what the hell, I don't understand half the stuff I write either, LOL! I think that is the best stuff from us all, the stuff that flows and we know not where it comes from...Peace, ED & Rufuz (w00f)

Reviewed by Sandie May Joyce (Sandie Angel)

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

...ditto for me, Deborah!...

Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu :o)

Reviewed by A PAX

Reviewed on November 11, 2003

LOL very clever!!!!
excellent erin!!!

bravo!

saw a past of tense fly by
the hands of Time forever spry.

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