What a visual your line "the sun a still blackened cinder" creates...
I grew up on the top of a cinder butte, so this image brought back poignant images of youth. The word cinder also fit so perfectly into the feeling of your poem because of the sharp and cutting edges that cinders have...I could imagine the pain inflicted by the jagged edges of such...
Of course, your last lines resolved the whole poem perfectly...
Cryssa
Reviewed by blue soplain (Reader)
Reviewed on August 29, 2008
mon dieu~
i dont have words for this. . ..
its oracular in nature and. .
damn. im done.
nessa
A master's work shines through, and this one is all that your reviewers say... and more. In romance, you could be a dangerous suitor, so a word of caution to ya' - Bill
"shadows withing a hollow heart" is my favorite line, (I'm a sucker or inner-rhymes, and all those h's and w's...yummy-yum) but it's all lovely-- a very visual poem, and those visuals really pull out the emotion in the piece-- and the alliterations make it smooth as silk.
Sighhhhh...to know love...you can write love...
to write love...you know love....
Beautiful Memories of Love Calling Into Your Poem Gene
Much Love Always
Embraced ~ Embrassé
Vickie
Dreamed awful dreams all last night. Hate those nights, could not wait for daylight. The sun is always there, it just is on the other side of the world when it disappears for a while. That is what I think I learned in schooldays.
Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis (Reader)
Reviewed on August 28, 2008
"hypothetical sleep";
"empty minutes
segue into inattentive years" -
love these lines, Gene. Will you be my ghostwriter? No, really ...
Loneliness waits for most of us. That’s what I read from the images created by “Absence, robs the day of light, the sun a stilled blackened cinder, eclipsed; by her departure.” There’s pain here--the pain I saw in my mother’s tears for ten years after my father died ending a marriage of fifty-four years or the empty vessel that was the aunt that raised my father after her husband’s death ending a marriage of seventy-five years. As we grow older and realize how precious a long-term relationship is with its different colors of love that we enjoyed as the colors changed from hot to warm to cool (with an occasional warming trend), we realize we can never get that back after it is gone--what was lost is lost and lives only in memories that make us ache. Reading ‘Daylight’ makes me wonder: I don’t know if I want to go first or not--knowing that if I live, I will be the one that fills his cup with pain or if I go first leaving someone behind that I love to suffer in my absence--hoping she will recover and find someone else to hold hands with--to get on with life but knowing the older we are the more difficult that is to achieve in this youth worshiping culture.
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
the sun a stilled blackened cinder
eclipsed
by her departure.
longings lost
in hypothetical sleep:
empty minutes
segue into inattentive years,
multiply in isolation,
and the ending:
awaiting the sun’s reappearance
in her laughter,
her touch.
Excellent. - David
I grew up on the top of a cinder butte, so this image brought back poignant images of youth. The word cinder also fit so perfectly into the feeling of your poem because of the sharp and cutting edges that cinders have...I could imagine the pain inflicted by the jagged edges of such...
Of course, your last lines resolved the whole poem perfectly...
Cryssa
i dont have words for this. . ..
its oracular in nature and. .
damn. im done.
nessa
A master's work shines through, and this one is all that your reviewers say... and more. In romance, you could be a dangerous suitor, so a word of caution to ya' - Bill
Be always safe,
Karen
John
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
Peace, love, and light,
Amber "V"
to write love...you know love....
Beautiful Memories of Love Calling Into Your Poem Gene
Much Love Always
Embraced ~ Embrassé
Vickie
"empty minutes
segue into inattentive years" -
love these lines, Gene. Will you be my ghostwriter? No, really ...
Deep feelings of loneliness and sadness.
May she bring back the sun in your world again!
Blessings to you,
~Linda