the second he peered over his wire rims
and said in feigned seriousness,
"I, too, worshiped at the Shrine
of David Bowie."
Ah, here's a man who understands, I thought,
but
can I afford
to lose myself once more
to blue eyes and summer skin,
stubbled cheeks that trap the heat,
and calloused hands that conceal
the soul
of Neruda?
He had that look
I've come to recognize,
the one you get after forty: Hope.
I'm no stranger to that expression;
it stares back from the bathroom mirror,
cautions me against pain.
Should I try/Do I dare/Do I have the stamina
to walk that road again?
So we
talked/flirted/laughed/reminisced . . . and parted.
We pulled back
knowing that Hope,
with its heart-pounding potential,
is infinitely more satisfying
than
jumping
in with both feet.
Oh, damn and damn, I love your work...geez, I, Oh, God, so much I relate to, but what a piece, yes, Hope seems to be JUST WHAT IT IS all about...over 40, but damn, those s'stubbled cheeks' and the, those, oh..."calloused hands that conceal/the soul/of Neruda"...and
"I'm no stranger to that expression;
it stares back from the bathroom mirror,
cautions me against pain.
Should I try/Do I dare/Do I have the stamina
to walk that road again? "
and the ending, damn, yes, powerful piece, so damned honest, as only you know how to be the kind of honest/well, sounds odd, but you can make a piece so vividly another's and there is a deep down honest underlay always, at least with the all too little I've read...
(even the title, caught me, after the fact, the subtext hereis like right there, but oh, this is an anthem for some...I, well, if I got that far, LOL...truly Pat, I, oh, I guess I just, especially w/you just kind of go agape, and then, well...it is hard to describe for me, at times, so simply, your work just reaches me, it seems...
and I find it beautiful because of the truths, maybe? In any case, your words, well, to me, you just seem to know how to write w/out limiting any possibilities...damn, hope this makes sense...
Just love your work, and...I'll slip away...but, Thank You!
Reviewed by harry k stammer (Reader)
Reviewed on September 12, 2003
that last stanza is wonderful - a friend of mine said in the early 80's hope is a waste of time it blinds you it finally kills you...
and
hope of that of the satisf-ied, his of the potential heart-heart-heart-heart-pounding, toast of with of the both of with of inside of jumping of which of it is infinitely of satisfaction.
P this is so powerful...so much in here...taking chances is scary... they say nothing ventured nothing gained..but they never say how very much you could lose...I love this one...floria
South Baltimore serves as the backdrop for this gripping story of three brothers leading very different lives but joined forever by the secrets of a painful family past.
Deputy Dave Jenkins investigates the murder of local high school principal, Jerry Egge, but this is a multi-faceted novel that deals with spiritualism, romance, friendship, and children who fall through the cracks.
"Murder isn't usually this
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:-)
Loved it, felt it, lived it.
hugs
irish
LAYF :)Sandy
Lovely soulful rhyme of unrequited love. (Ode to a Grecian Urn: Keats)?
I really enjoyed this poem.
Best wishes always
from
kay.
"I'm no stranger to that expression;
it stares back from the bathroom mirror,
cautions me against pain.
Should I try/Do I dare/Do I have the stamina
to walk that road again? "
and the ending, damn, yes, powerful piece, so damned honest, as only you know how to be the kind of honest/well, sounds odd, but you can make a piece so vividly another's and there is a deep down honest underlay always, at least with the all too little I've read...
(even the title, caught me, after the fact, the subtext hereis like right there, but oh, this is an anthem for some...I, well, if I got that far, LOL...truly Pat, I, oh, I guess I just, especially w/you just kind of go agape, and then, well...it is hard to describe for me, at times, so simply, your work just reaches me, it seems...
and I find it beautiful because of the truths, maybe? In any case, your words, well, to me, you just seem to know how to write w/out limiting any possibilities...damn, hope this makes sense...
Just love your work, and...I'll slip away...but, Thank You!
and
hope of that of the satisf-ied, his of the potential heart-heart-heart-heart-pounding, toast of with of the both of with of inside of jumping of which of it is infinitely of satisfaction.
hks
Reindeer
love Tinka
~Chrissie