The Tortoise (poem) by Michael S. True on AuthorsDen

Reviewed on October 12, 2014

To my mind, there are others of us, in other time streams ...parallels of us ...and we, as many parts of one being, are successful in our own right. Doing what is necessary to uphold our other selves.
Yes, it sounds bonkers ...but it works for me :-)

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on August 26, 2014

We all have to build our own shells of protection. Even those with some modicum of success find that they are often subject to ridicule� Often from those who they have defeated fairly and squarely. And there are always those, the scum of the earth, who find that they have no life except to be thorns in the sides of everyone else. In the worst cases, acting out their fantasies in criminal behavior.

These facts are true: Success is relative and for the masses, is very rare. Some people have a gift, a natural talent and come by success easily. Some people find success through luck and happenstance--being in the right place at the right time. And some people find success through a lifelong process of honing their talents until they reach success. Very, very few do. The rest are like you and I, practiced and pruned but still unknown.

The only thing left is not to be discouraged, but happy with a life well lived.

Ron

Reviewed by John Domino

Reviewed on August 25, 2014

Well done Michael! In the latter years of life a tortoise's life becomes more appealing. Perhaps they are the wisest of all and that's why they life so long. Thank you for a glimpse into this perspective.

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton

Reviewed on August 25, 2014

Hah! I have lived one hell of a life, much of it in the fast-lane. Two decades of street living you made sure you were upfront and out the gate a second before the bell ring. 'Course I was spinning my wheels, but I was also staying alive. And now, in the lazy, leisure days of my old age I understand why it was so important to survive the streets . . . . so I could live long enough to sit back,write my poems, novels, short stories and walk the banks of Bayou Lafourche. But best of all, I am at such a peace with myself that have absolutely become a tortoise, and I love every leisured breath of it.

Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com

Reviewed on August 25, 2014

And yet...does not the slower pace have even greater reward than finishing first? Like a Maserati in a show room, as opposed to the race track, we can observe, contemplate detail and perfection, and then marvel at such a work of art and engineering was even built. Such is the case of poetry, of literature, of tortoises. Lest me forget, "Possibly the most headline-grabbing giant tortoise of all, though, was , a Giant Galapagos Land Tortoise who lived to the ripe old age of 175 (give or take a year or two). Born in the 1830s, Harriet was collected by Charles Darwin when he visited the Galapagos Islands in 1835. After a brief stay in England, she was taken to Australia where the weather was more suitable for her. She spent the last two decades of her life at the and passed away in June 2006."
And for a species that has managed to survive since the late Triassic period, hey...I'll take that.