| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 12/15/06 at 07:47 AM Truly enjoyed this. Puts me in mind of a quote...just can't remember who said it: "Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul". ...and so it goes. Thnaks. |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 12/15/06 at 08:16 AM The form mirroring the theme here--upper first part, what "heaven" is not... the second the vital existence, and its composition, and the last a total, conclusion, the sum of parts. I love the "dislocated souls flop[ping] eternally" and the "smudged glass".... (of course). I agree with your exposition, if there might be an instruction book for life...perhaps your title would be its title? |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 12/15/06 at 03:09 PM Well said, man. Most of all, with that last stanza. You can really do some damage with short jabs that do a lot more than someone taking entirely too much time to get to their point. |
| Posted by Leslie Ann Eisenberg on 12/16/06 at 11:15 PM succint and biting. sharp as tacks on bare feet from start to finish. PK |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 12/17/06 at 02:40 AM OH, I do like this. The power of your words and phrasing is strong and clear. Nice job. |
| Posted by Shirin Swift on 12/17/06 at 08:09 AM Excellent! I love how your images integrate inorganic/mechanical with organic/spiritual. Unique. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/18/06 at 05:16 PM Heaven and nature's recycling aptly put to the page. I've often thought of this myself, but my muse never prodded me to write about it. Well done sir! |
| Posted by Deborah Breuer on 01/08/07 at 02:55 AM Clever concept....I like it. And true...so true.
Debbie |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 08/16/07 at 05:24 AM Good thing about being cremated... I want to be spread on Lake Whitney in Texas, finally feeding the fish without also trying to hook them. I love your poem. Having a sense of humor about our mortality is a special gift. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 06/09/10 at 01:01 PM our arrival upon the scene is to add to an already deconstructing architecture which is built and picked apart in time and yet no block, no life which is added to that structure is the duplicate of the other, each bearing its unique stamp as does this ode. |
