Lost Horizon (poem) by Ruan Mills on AuthorsDen

Lost Horizon
by Ruan Mills → (All Poetry by Ruan Mills)
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Identity Crisis

When I was a child of just four or five And flower power* people doled out peace and love Mum was a beatnik and Dad was alive When I was a child of just four or five Those were the days when I knew who I was Days when my place in the world was quite plain Life was straightforward, simply because... those were the days when I knew who I was Then fell the blow, which turned my world to dust My childhood was over. I was ward of the state My mind was confused and I struggled with trust Yes, that was the blow, which turned my world to dust Life changed again as I reached adulthood Alone now and homeless, I made myself strong Sleeping rough, hungry, I did what I could Imbibing some things that no young person should I passed the next years in the grip of life’s grind Marriage and children took over my world One husband dead and another unkind As I passed thirty years in the grip of life’s grind Alone once again and abroad from what must... be par for the course in an average life Finding once more that I struggled with trust As again, falls a blow that turns my world to dust Now I’m fifty years on with my course unrevealed How swiftly things change when our time takes a turn What purpose is mine, in this life far afield? Being fifty years on with no course yet revealed Which way should I turn in my search to unfold... my choices so bound up in years that are few? Where’s my place now, if I may be so bold? Which way should I turn to come in from the cold? I think of that child being just four or five And I wonder what life would have been, if unchanged Would she be so lost and yet still so alive? Would she think of her, at age just four or five? It’s mine to create, somehow, vision and might! Seek out all my prospects, a future brand new Learn, once again, how to stand up and fight And heave my horizon back into plain sight. Author Notes** Flower Power = The expression was coined by the American beat poet Allen Ginsberg as a means to transform war protests into peaceful affirmative spectacles. Hippies embraced the symbolism by dressing in clothing with embroidered flowers and vibrant colors, wearing flowers in their hair, and distributing flowers to the public, becoming known as flower children. The term later became generalized as a modern reference to the beginning of the hippie movement. *Beatnik = Cool 50's youth culture. Wore berets and polo necks. Hung out in coffee shops playing bongos and reciting poetry and experimenting with marijuana. Pre-dates the hippie movement.

Reviewed by Michael True

Reviewed on August 7, 2013

It is difficult for any writer to examine a lifetime from a detached perspective, especially if there is much pain/tragedy involved. You pen a very brave character, especially in the reconnecting to your younger/former self. Much easier to appreciate optimism rather than pessimism. Nice write! M.True

Reviewed by Mr. Ed

Reviewed on June 28, 2013

Love your last stanza - Create On!

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on June 27, 2013

It's hard for me to say. I was more an observer than a participant, while I scooped up all the values without all the highs and lows and deep down withdrawal that the drug scene brought in. Apparently you were in the low ground while I was grazing the high. Yet, as you stated about my article, we came to believe the same from widely different perspectives.

I see the way open for you� So now all you have to do is, go for it.

Ron

Reviewed by Odin odin@aflx.com

For those of us growing up with the Ginsberg generation (and living in NY gave me access to the original coffee house rants)your life's review granted special access to my own recollections and the particular obstacles thrown in my way as well. Such is the paradox so necessary for creative nourishment. To go through life never understanding why the black dot on the white wall cannot be scene is indeed the tragedy. You obviously have a Pollack wall to draw from, and how sweet is that? We should all be so lucky, and have your positive determination in spite of the density of color and darkness splashed across your canvas. Well done, but that is always expected of you, Ruan. "Heave my horizon back into plain sight" indeed. Kudos.

Reviewed by Budd Nelson

i was there elsewhere during those early days, the later had less than stellar appeal..you still have the horizon you deem for yourself, those others are the ones at a loss for they no longer have you
budd

Reviewed by George Carroll

Life for some is no bed of roses but the strong seem to overcome all adversities. It can be an emotional nightmare when it continues as yours
has.

George

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton

Yes. You are a fighter. And yes, you have more fight(s) to win. This poem is so wonderfully good. I am glad you wrote it. I know you better. I absolutely relate as I walked the mean streets in my two lost decades. New York. Beatniks. Reciting poetry in dives, snapping fingers for applause.