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Open Poetry #22
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Greeneyes
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Member Rara Avis
since 2000-09-09
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In Your Poetic Mind

0 posted 2002-08-25 11:42 PM








You carved shapeless marble
             in soul design
built no cathedrals --

{I think of her hands,  such
             quiet hands--mostly
        when the sun fades

        how, with faith, I climbed
many heights
lost, alone     silence
became a true friend}


Somewhere upon
       the restless sea

riches of earth passed me by --
I longed for hours of
  quietness when I         would
know tranquility


{Strange how fingers of memories
hold         small things  --   lamplight     fireflies   you}


but it's time I--

Smooth the folds,
         lay the veil in starlight,
your fragrant
still haunting    my threads of life
    {I am so thankful}

Kneel a moment,

where sunlight casts its gold
upon the ground

Fades leaves  fell
among her roses


--


These tears, I now  understand

______________________________________


I dont remember much of my mother
I know how gentle she was and very loving
aside from being a beautiful person
I have found with my recent findings
of my 2 sisters and 4 brothers
more emotions have come forth
I know deep inside there is a part of
her in my heart, where she has remained for
34 years...through my new extended family
I am learning about her and the many tears
I shed over the years....I now understand


Thank you all for being a shoulder of support
it means very much that I can come here and find the peace I need....

Before Adoption:






With warm regard....




The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind pretend I am weightless and in this moment I am happy





[This message has been edited by Greeneyes (08-26-2002 11:46 AM).]

© Copyright 2002 Lauren~ - All Rights Reserved
Mistletoe Angel
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since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816
Portland, Oregon
1 posted 2002-08-25 11:46 PM


"Smooth the folds,
         lay the veil in starlight,
your fragrant
still haunting    my threads of life
    {I am so thankful}

Kneel a moment,

where sunlight casts its gold
upon the ground

Fades leaves  fell
among her roses
These tears, I now  understand"




(big hugggssssss) Oh Lauren, this is soooooo beautiful, sweet friend, I love it and though my heart goes out to you that you never got to know your mother so well that also you are finally meeting so much of your family that I know loves you so very much! (kiss on cheek) My thoughts and prayers are with you, sweet friend, God Bless You, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet Lauren, thank you for sharing!



May love and light always shine upon you!

Love,
Noah Eaton

"Underneath your clothes there's an endless story..."

Shakira

Madame Chipmunk
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-05
Posts 8296
Michigan
2 posted 2002-08-25 11:50 PM


Lauren... this is a gem of a poem...
I can feel your thankfulness through it...
You are going to have a wonderful thanksgiving this year...
You and your long lost siblings have so much to be thankful for...
~ loving hugs

Lyra

copyright2002 Lyra Nesius

"poetry is life distilled"  Gwendolyn Brooks

Gabriel Frost
Member
since 2002-08-15
Posts 216
Between midnight thoughts
3 posted 2002-08-25 11:55 PM


So beautiful..
You were blessed to have a mother that could inspire such warm words.

Larry C
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Member Patricius
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286
United States
4 posted 2002-08-25 11:58 PM


Lauren,
And she was in your heart all along. How wonderful that you get to learn more about her. If she was anything like you...she was an incredible lady!

If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I'd walk right up to heaven and bring you home again.

vlraynes
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-25
Posts 8229
Somewhere... out there...
5 posted 2002-08-26 01:41 AM



Lauren-
This is so tender and lovely.
It truly whispers.
Thanks so much for sharing this beautiful write.
Hugs,
~Vicky

"...until you have read the verse on his heart,
you have not truly met the poet.
~vlraynes

Sunshine
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Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
6 posted 2002-08-26 06:57 AM



The longing in this is evident, and your mother is very proud of you for remembering her so well.  Look into your heart, for she left behind great seeds of wisdom and tenderness, which you have found, have nourished, and have shared with so many...

Gentle Spirit
Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989

7 posted 2002-08-26 09:15 AM


Lauren, although our reasons for losing our mothers was quiete different, I want you to know how many volumes this poem speaks to me and is special.....
as are you.....

If I have touched one heart through my words, then I have acheived my dream...

Nightshade
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just out of reach
8 posted 2002-08-26 09:22 AM


Lauren, this is soft and lovely. You have true heartfelt emotion here. Chris

Life is not measured by breaths you take, but by moments that take your breath away.

Moonlight Romeo
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Senior Member
since 2001-09-10
Posts 982
The heart of you
9 posted 2002-08-26 09:49 AM


A woman that any mother would be proud to call "daughter", but yet, you are so much more.

Thank you.

What light through yon window breaks?  It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean
since 1999-07-07
Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla
10 posted 2002-08-26 10:07 AM


Lauren,
You have touched my tender side. Lovely

Martie
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Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049
California
11 posted 2002-08-26 10:23 AM


Lauren

This is such a lovely poem...your heart speaks to her..and I'm sure she hears you.  

Bill Charles
Member Patricius
since 2000-07-11
Posts 10619
highways, & byways, for now
12 posted 2002-08-26 12:06 PM


Greeneyes - a most warm, touching, and moving poem. Very gracious...

BC

JAR
Junior Member
since 2001-11-06
Posts 34

13 posted 2002-08-26 04:30 PM


LittleL'

small things
big steps


J'

EagleScorpion
Senior Member
since 2000-03-08
Posts 1644
Here, Now, Forever
14 posted 2002-08-26 04:35 PM


lauren,

i can tell this particular piece means the whole world to you. I'm glad you can look back on these things with such reverance.. man i feel so young.

Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296
Purgatorial Incarceration
15 posted 2002-08-26 10:12 PM


Ah, lass, ye twist a pretty word... a pretty word indeed. Seriously, this (even trying to discount knowing of the personal truth within, which perhaps is not possible entirely) is most emphatically one of your best pieces, if not the foremost among a long list of good poetry from you.

First, you began with a killer title; it seems simplistic when viewed as just two words, but when considered as the title of a poem, one begins to see a lot of potential from the joining. This alone would have grabbed me, even if I didn't read pretty much everything you write anyway.

Next, you kick off with a beautiful stanza which not only sets the 'gentle / soft' tone that is signature You, but also leads toward your intended subject without slamming it into the reader's face. Well done ma'am.

One mite of criticism / suggestion here: my mind wanted to see either a hyphen between "soul" and "design" (my preference in honesty), or to have you pluralize "design." I don't know why, as I used to be very fond of random singularities where there "should" be plurals, but anymore, it honestly gives me a big hitch when I read... Hmmm - now that I think about it, I can see why: it almost always (there are of course exceptions to every rule) sounds forced. Not as in forced by the author, but forced in tone when I read it; unnatural. This could certainly work if your intent was to cause such a pause, but considering the surrounding tone and theme, I don't feel that likely.

The next stanza is most definitely my favorite gem in a sea of sparkling jewels, wherein I could find no fault with the cut of the stone. In its own way, this too is 'simple' in word. Yet somehow, it still slips in such a vibrant portrait of emotion that I felt wholly sucked into your world. In my mind, I see two pairs of hands - both slender yet strong female hands, one set obviously younger than the other, perhaps early adolescence - tenderly grasping with a shadow slowly playing over the knuckles of the older hands as the light from a stained glass window (brought about I think from the reference to cathedrals in the first stanza) ever so slowly passes from low to high as the sun sets into the horizon. Oh, once again lady, well done, very well done indeed.

Third stanza compels one to move farther down the road on the path inside your mind, to an area where that grasp of hands is remembered en absentia, which - oh so softly (I have no idea how you do this) impales the reader's heart with the ache of loneliness that is only borne with the faith brought about through this reminiscence of an image of 'quiet hands' and what they represent in the form of security, safety.

The next stanza... see, you keep it up. Here, I read this short bit as the piece with which you introduced a setting. Whooosh! Now I'm out in the middle of a 'restless sea,' which I translated as the turbulence of coping with early adulthood.

The next phrase in the following stanza threw me a tiny bit, but only because it is such an ambiguous phrase that I had to pause to determine how *I* wanted it to fit within the poem. When you, as the author, leave something so ambiguous, it is either by mistake or intent - either way requires the reader (this is not a bad thing, mind you) to participate, drawing their own conclusions from the bare sketch you provide. What I settled on is [you] being mired in a world where life is measured by money (power), where you felt you didn't belong - hence the 'passing you by,' as it wasn't You no matter how much involved in that world. I found this supported in the next phrase, wherein I saw you enmeshed in the comfort of your own home (and memories, which you also supported in the next stanza). There, you were able to 'step away' from that crazy world that so beat at you, and relax in the comfort of familiar (and uncomplicated) surroundings that represented your "real" world, safe from the "big, bad other-world."

'Strange how fingers of memories...' - This is probably my second favorite stanza in this poem. Once again, it paints a picture in my mind as if it were there in front of my face. Here, I see a young woman (she has your face, of course - see, impossible to divorce yourself completely when you know something of the other) laying back on a couch, with a soft, warm smile on [your] face as [you] recall images from the past that bring forth that much-desired tranquility.

Wondering - it is the small things so many times, and your brief list was truly inspired: leading from lamp to fireflies to 'her;' all symbols of illumination, the first man-made, the second natural, the third implied brighter and greater than the previous. I particularly enjoyed this symbolism.

'but it's time I--' - Oh, I surely heard a heavy sigh of grudging acceptance following the initiation of this determination.

Now you 'smooth the folds' - find those places that hurt, are uncomfortable, or perhaps just not 'happy' (in the security of your current world - this recognizes that the memory in and of itself can be a happy one, yet is hard / painful / etc. because it is in the past and cannot be resurrected), and brush them into that haze which is the comprisal of all memories once they are jumbled together, to be brought out only at specific intervals, and at the user's discretion.

The veil made me sigh, as I imagined [you] intentionally (but not completely) concealing these memories. Also - again - there is a distinct image in my mind, a striking one of a beautiful woman, robed in white, standing amidst the stars on a perfectly clear night. There, she spreads out a diaphanous blanket to partially cover a portion of the sky. There, her smile shines as brightly as the surrounding landscape of celestial bodies - for it [her / your smile] exists even here; this is not a deed done through malice or ill-feelings, but rather acceptance and the slight, yet somber satisfaction of coming to terms with an issue that has been so much a part of your life that you perhaps despaired of ever prevailing over it.

OK - A pause in the praise. I didn't like this next part. It hit me wrong, and I couldn't determine if it was a typo on "your," a misspelling on "fragrant," or something intended that I just didn't understand. There were two ways I could see this being. The first (reference typo) was that perhaps "your" was supposed to be "you're," which would mean that 'she was fragrant.' This is cool, but I like the following better as it smoothly ties into the next lines. Switching "fragrant" to "fragrance." This, while still at heart maintains a very similar meaning to the first suggestion, leads so well into the final portions of this stanza that I immediately adopted it as what you probably intended. (Hope you don't mind - *smile*)

So there we go, with the impression of her fragrance (which can be such a huge trigger for memory) lingering in [your] mind, or perhaps discovered in random, unexpected places, causing your mind to propel you backward into this memory... I also read it (with the final 'threads of life') as being a constant in your journey through the world, regardless of changes in surroundings, companions, or self. Perhaps this is the penultimate summation of the previous images - a decisive characteristic that is descriptive of the entire "malady."

'...so thankful' - Memories, while hard at times to reconcile with current reality, can also be something of a lifeline to cling to (reference to climbing with 'faith' in third stanza). With that thought in mind, this clearly speaks for itself.

Kneeling - still, as with the entirety of this poem, it is soft; a slow lowering (still robed in white, I know not why...) of [your] knees to the floor of a brightly lit forest floor that is clothed in the variegated leaves of Autumn's fall. Oh dear, another sigh from me with this image - so beautiful.

The next stanza - again, yes, yet again - supports the previous seamlessly. I see the sunlight forming a corona around [you], and ringing the ground with a light just a bit brighter than that which warms the surrounding areas. It represents to me a feeling not only of accomplishment (in addressing and coming to terms with the past's "intrusion" on [your] life), but of the silent contentment that comes when one realizes there can be peace after a battle fought and won. And while the word "battle" usually implies something violent, I did not see this one as such. It was a much more subtle one, though not necessarily insidious by any means, just subtle battle.

Ok - another relatively minor gripe: Should that (I think so *smile*) be "Faded" rather than "Fades?" I can certainly see poetic content in brushing away the norm and vying for a bit of the 'outré', but it just doesn't work here (assuming that was your intent of course). The wording of this poem as a whole is so amazingly simple, that if this was your intent, it somewhat blemished the gentle beauty of the rest. It was a harsh phrase on my mind (and, I admit, heart) after so smoothly (mostly) running through the previous stanzas.

Anyway - I went with fading, as one must when one is confused; they cheat. *Smile* Which filters the grief of the roses - which I see symbolic of the 'death' of the memories that had been haunting - with the gentle, yet (also symbolically) sad beauty of falling leaves. Wow. Generous image indeed; poignant.

The finale: I think I too understand these tears. So much so for having walked this beautifully lit path you showed me so well, then tied up with sentence that says almost as much in five words as the remainder of the poem. It taught me through example that the ending of a poem doesn't have to be "strong" to be powerful.



I was nearly saddened to see this end Lauren. Sincerely. It is rare that I read a poem which so effectively places images directly into my head. Actually, I think the last one that did that was one in CA, written by Brad: Metamorphosis

Please understand that these are just the impressions your poem made on me. I recognize absolutely that you possibly / probably had different meanings than the ones I found here. Me - I think that's cool. We can, none of us, read with an objective eye. Our experiences paint our perceptions without fail, even if in only small, subtle ways. Know that I read this from behind the curtain of my experiences, and that I felt (even if wrongly) for a moment that I was somehow able to step behind your curtain for a moment. Thank you for that, and for your indulgence.

Hugs,

C

Moon Dust
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Skelmersdale, UK
16 posted 2002-08-26 10:37 PM


Oh theres some good post here today and this is one of them. Its brilliant

If your afraid of the dark, then why did you come?

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