As a child he was never content
With living at home
Or with a world that refused to change
Just because it was satisfied with its own brand of madness
Or with a world that allowed the masses to suffer
As it passionately oppressed minorities and dreamers
Or with the collective effort
To anger and frustrate the underclass
Or with a world allowing
The destruction of its nature
As it shuddered to realize
We are all one
And that each of us
Is more than we could ever imagine
As a child he never forgot
That life was a living memory
Designed to help us remember who we are
Shaped by each of us
As a grand collective effort
To recreate our selves
As a child as he refreshed himself
By a lake of unknown endeavor
His heart would rise into a perfect condition
Guided by the recollection
Of what is to be
As a child he realized he existed
In many places at once
He knew he was much larger
Than the space he presently contained
He allowed himself to become
The shore of his own idea
Shared through everyone
And when he looked up to the sky
He knew heaven surrounded everything
The "tear of awareness" had been waiting for the right moment, as do all things in life. A wonderful insight to a warm heart Jude. Beautifully written.
While truth has always been abundant... it is everwhere... it simply is... we have always danced around it, feared it, run from it, destroyed it, and even then, longed for it.
Superb tear of awareness, the poets growth charted in this truly enlightened vision...excellent work
Paul;-)
Reviewed by Pacific Ink (Reader)
Reviewed on July 29, 2005
This is a "poem of everything"...a grand work, encompassing the sorrow, the pain, hunger, challenges in front of us. It also talks about the possible solution, in an oblique manner. The fact that it exists everywhere, is present at more than one place at a time, makes it "poet's soul" or "poet's light". To begin with, it has shape and structure (I mean thought)and towards the end it becomes shapeless and formless like a cloud. EXCELLENT work, Robert!
A totally outstanding write charting the growth and evolution of a born visionary. How very appropriate for such a soul that revelation should have presented itself in the form of "a tear of awareness." Splendid all around.
Poignant and masterful; we continue to recreate ourselves with our ever-present experiences and reactions to the world around us.
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik (Reader)
Reviewed on July 29, 2005
Again, Jude, you use cuplets as extended, specific thought, allowing a read like this to seep in, rather than gulp down.
"To recreate our selves..." How deeply you are involved with what you think and write, to separate 'our' from 'selves' and thereby, with only words, conveying an impact of meaning.
I had the sensation of going from the dark into a bright light as I read. This is, for me, one of your very best! katy xox
Opens out well to encompass a world of dangers and possibilities.
Reminds me of the little African boy, polio sufferer, writing the telephone number of the aid worker who saved him from starvation.
It's all he writes in his painful scrawl, his gnarled twisted hands
slowly forming the numbers. He looks like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. A chosen child, chosen to be afflicted, chosen to be saved.
Truth is, indeed, abundant, but the world you describe as "the place of discontent" seems hellbent on squeezing every last atom of it from our minds, hearts and souls - like some all-encompassing anaconda, leaving us as desiccated shadows of the fully-fleshed and fledged people we are designed to be. Sounds to me like we shared the same childhood, Jude, knowing that we are "much larger Than the space he presently contained", spanning Stateside Bronx and Somerset pastures. The last six lines are quite a summation and shift of perspective from the external to the internal implication and landscape. It is clear like crystal and burns like fire across my page, at any rate! Calls to mind an image of a child's cupped hand, cradling a pinch of sand that is nurturing a tiny bloom within it. Such is the blood, sweat and tears of a God that fall to grace us in our efforts to be in tune with His vision and purposes for the created world. And the beauty of His grace is that He allows us to participate in His handiwork, and for His face to be seen in each of us as we make our endeavours, each with the gift that is uniquely ours to share... Oh dearie me... yet another Kate splurge... must be Friday!
But this is another beautiful addition to your latest collection, which seems to be drawn from your increasing personal depths as well as from the outer echelons of your vision, Mr Forese. Is it time for a fresh recital yet? Potent Sleep must be quite wore out by now! Designing Thoughts would be um... ace! :)) LOL K xx
Great write, Robert! No one can be oppressed without their consent, for we all possess the same clarity and the same powers of perception as the ones you describe in this brilliant poem. It takes strength and determination to not fall into the "easy way" of life where we are oppressed by our own desire to accept the alms of society instead of developing our own gifts, skills and powers.
Take care,
Sherry
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
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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The "tear of awareness" had been waiting for the right moment, as do all things in life. A wonderful insight to a warm heart Jude. Beautifully written.
Warm hugs
Elga
Peace and love, Carole
Provocative, emotional write that touches my soul. A beautiful ode to adolescence (spelling?) and awakenings. :)
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :)
Ron
Paul;-)
Pacific Ink
There is a lot of Wisdom contained within this composition.
Love & Light,
Joseph
"To recreate our selves..." How deeply you are involved with what you think and write, to separate 'our' from 'selves' and thereby, with only words, conveying an impact of meaning.
I had the sensation of going from the dark into a bright light as I read. This is, for me, one of your very best! katy xox
Wow....thanks for a prime offering!!
Love Tinka
The shore of his own idea
Shared through everyone
Quite profound, Jude - and quite a marvelous poem.
Reminds me of the little African boy, polio sufferer, writing the telephone number of the aid worker who saved him from starvation.
It's all he writes in his painful scrawl, his gnarled twisted hands
slowly forming the numbers. He looks like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. A chosen child, chosen to be afflicted, chosen to be saved.
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
Felix
But this is another beautiful addition to your latest collection, which seems to be drawn from your increasing personal depths as well as from the outer echelons of your vision, Mr Forese. Is it time for a fresh recital yet? Potent Sleep must be quite wore out by now! Designing Thoughts would be um... ace! :)) LOL K xx
It brought chills through my body reading each line awaiting the next seemingly knowing the end but really quite unsure all the while.
brilliant
Take care,
Sherry
Love,
Eileen