Candy Corpse coats the gut with refuse. The moral here, I think, is don't become dependent on someone else's saliva, because spit is a projectile that gums up the emotional carburator. Junkyards are full of what used to be a sweet ride!
I also will have to reread this several times before I can truly comprehend it. It makes me think of depression and how we twist what was sweet about ourselves into something bitter and discardable.
Janet
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on May 23, 2006
It would seem by these words that sometimes it is best not to have a form if it removes the possibility of corruption. Yet these words also left me feeling sorry for the candy being stepped on and discarded. Sweet would be the "true" freedom we do not understand in our present perceptions; or perhaps we do since we are always striving for it. (Don't mind me, I'm into some pretty heavy thinking lately and therefore not posting much; just like to keep up to date with your writings :-).)
quite an emotional impact from such a short form. made me think immediately about who (and not just what) gets chewed up, spit out and stomped on in our society. great work, Jude.
this is haiku-like in its implications. taking the mundane and finding the deeper meaning in it...a meditation upon the meaning of life itself. soul-kudos, poet.
Another direct hit; no sugar-coating here, either in words or sentiment. You are good at these surgical sketches. I have to agree with Ronald, I would deem this "waste product" highly corruptible in its present form - in the sense of being malleable to whatever circumstance next hits it. And I like the interpretations of Sherry and Michelle, thinking about "human garbage" which is only so having been used and abused by the rest of us. Whatever "it" is, it seems that it has been stripped of its true value and essence and is now prey to the disinterest of uninvolved parties. This adheres to the soul like a sense of guilt... perhaps that's the point!! Clever, Kate xx
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on May 22, 2006
This is one of those "cryptic" poems that every reader takes their own version of it with them. Me? I just like the-roll-off-the-tongue words.
Your words bring to my mind the discarded Veterans who fought the war with all they had and came home broken; today they live and sleep on the streets. Yesterday's heroes now seemingly nothing more than an uncomfortable eyesore in our world of paper-doll dreams. As a society we rarely bend down to help pick up the broken pieces of shattered lives, instead we view them an an inconvenience that we would much rather have swept away from our world. Deep and powerful write and you did it in less words than it took me to review it..go figure!! ;)
Take care,
Sherry
Reviewed by Jane Rodway (Reader)
Reviewed on May 21, 2006
I had to read this from the title alone, love it- anyway, reminds me sadly of the way some people think of murdered prostitutes, etc. You did that amazingly well in so short a space, showing your thoughts are strong. You are a great writer, anyway.
You're right about that. Indigestable and downright unbiodegradable. Gum will melt tho but only into another form-liquid rubber. Still, there must be some insect or animal in South America that lives off of or injests a rubber tree plant so it is absorbed into the cycle of life. Maybe it is just the manufacturing process into chewing gum that renders it incorruptible. What are "gum spirits", the additive in certain products? Is gum a waste product of that process?
Sounds like internal recycling and processing to me, Jude. Going through a similiar experience myself...
Don't ya jusy hate it when people opt to disgard sticky gum, chewed until it's character expires, upon a concrete morgue(or school desk), when the option is a trash can placed there for TRASH. You sure are diplomatic with your verse Robert... and bless you!
Susan
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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Chanti
Sage
Janet
Regis
Reindeer
This is an astute observation transformed into an incorruptible fluid form.
Ron, deep meaningless here.
On the other hand, Sherry's right.
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
Take care,
Sherry
Sounds like internal recycling and processing to me, Jude. Going through a similiar experience myself...
Lin
Paul;-)
Susan
Felix
You floor me.
Time we cleaned this sticky mess up...
Thought provoking poem Ace !
Peter
xx dove