a thought Saturday night that i couldn't do until today
april 15, 2013
Crystal solemn saline
pooling, over flowing. Slowly running over
leaving clouded green eyes. Whites now red with anguish
too blurred to focus on. Flows now in grey lip hair
tasting of sorrow's salt.
Temples cradled in palms
low empty bosom sounds. The quill laying sterile
on parchment stained with salt. Flows not starting to ebb
head swaying side to side. Cannot this heartbreak stop
this heart needs mending's start.
Alas, tears calm the heart but do not mend reality. While reading your poem, I felt your sorrow. I hope it's just poetry and not reality. A parent's heart is more sensitive than we think. Love to you and your family, your friend, who can see you through your words. May God give you peace, calm and strength to write. Love, Emile
I am very familiar with sorrow... ...and weeping; and there is much to weep about in this world/life. Thank you for this soul-stirring write, Budd. Love and peace to you,
To be at this point in life and so heartbroken she can't even write! So sad!
Love ya,
Jane
Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
Reviewed on April 16, 2013
This affects me like a silent howl, Budd. This could be a parchment letter thumb-tacked to a jillion happenings on Earth right now. You write of the Beast as greatly as you write of the Beauty. Keep writing. Thank you. ~~ Diana
Tragedy always brings these saline crystals to us...
It helps us get through...
Well and beautifully written about tragedy and I
agree with Ron, it's timed almost intuitively to the
recent tragedy in Boston...
You have written about the tragedy in Boston without writing about it. I don't feel the same pain because I have no one close to the tragedy. The media's hustle and bustle and overblowing the result of some maniacal plot to kill people, has put people into the mood of feeling the devastation without feeling it. Believe me, yesterday many died around the world much more tragic circumstances that we never heard of.
One thing for sure dear Budd, crying will never cease, but joy comes to those who hope! My hope is you have peace and assurance, that this too shall pass....
These tears are liquid crystals of light, if only known from whence they come, bring healing to our souls...a medicine that cannot be reproduced in true form by man.
Budd
We all feel this pain. Your poem speaks volumes to all of us.
I am just so sick over this. I have family that lives in Boston. Haven't heard anything yet from them.
Go in peace my friend!
Love and light
Amber
Budd, this sorrow of the heart pierces through the depths of your being, radiating soul sadness to those who taste the bitter loss.
Pain brings excellence of your quill.
Ah, Budd, 'tis the season for sorrow, yes, yes there is, just as there is a season for happiness, may the happiness season find you quickly.
Reviewed by Gert van Weenen (Reader)
Reviewed on April 15, 2013
Heart rending sorrow, a torn heart and eyes that seemingly flow over in an endless stream of salt tears.
May this writing be the start of this hearts mending,
May there be an arm to comfort this broken heart
And a tender hand to dry these tears.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
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regards
TJ
thank you for sharing such a riveting piece of poetry
straight from the heart & the well of sorrow
Love's Bounty & Healing Blessings
Vickie
God Bless You,
Deb
Regis
Will only tears remain?
db
G
Heartfelt poetry at its best. Your words brought me to tears.
Many blessings,
+Linda
The quill laying sterile on parchment stained with salt.
Of the heart the salt to kerchief lie to mend the heartbreak.
Lady Mary Ann
Love ya,
Jane
It helps us get through...
Well and beautifully written about tragedy and I
agree with Ron, it's timed almost intuitively to the
recent tragedy in Boston...
Love and Light
Lily
Ron
These tears are liquid crystals of light, if only known from whence they come, bring healing to our souls...a medicine that cannot be reproduced in true form by man.
Moved and touched..
Teresa
Anna
We all feel this pain. Your poem speaks volumes to all of us.
I am just so sick over this. I have family that lives in Boston. Haven't heard anything yet from them.
Go in peace my friend!
Love and light
Amber
Pain brings excellence of your quill.
Connie
May this writing be the start of this hearts mending,
May there be an arm to comfort this broken heart
And a tender hand to dry these tears.
Deeply touching Budd
Gerrit
but I have mended my heart
many a time *Budd* thoughts
from you that many can relate
Lady Vivian
we cry with you....we cry in silence...
there're no words left....to express the sorrow...
an outstanding write Budd
Peace be with you
William