Yes I am the keeper to my own heart. You gave me things to keep there close. My thoughts, my words and my memories. I choose my words to write and think about my old memories. Which I hold dear to my heart. These are my words I treasure with every thought of my being. Words that have meaning and show compassion for everyone to read. I never thought they would spread this far. But these are my words I write for the world to see. Through lifes trials and sorrows I need to express them. Though they're always here with me, and flow smoothly along. My heart is the keeper of old memories and thoughts. There they will stay in my heart and soul.
Memories are sacred, as are life's trials and sorrows. The ability to write them out, I've discovered, is better than any psychiatrist. Writing, for me, serves as a gentle reminder to continue to trust in God -- He will set me free!
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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Kathy