tragic...the servitude...this piece could be a metaphor for many things and so i will not ponder to much outside my own perception...i try to sacrifice in an overtly selfless sense as often as was once the antithesis of this philosphy...and the quietude of ones disappearance is relative the significance of those who allow it to occur so readily without a question...lovely in its melancholy and forgive me if i am way off base...
What I really like here is the negation inside the poem. As I read... I was born to serve I reacted - Surely she doesn`t mean that !...until I read the last verse, a physical reaction to a emotional situation, so I think this has been written with a lot of thought, a subtle look at a inner world..
Posted 11 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
11 Years Ago
because i take great care in modeling my poems in simplicity, I used to get a little frustrated that.. read morebecause i take great care in modeling my poems in simplicity, I used to get a little frustrated that most folks didn't 'get' it. I have since learned that those few who come and walk in my steps and understand are so very worth waiting for
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I make a distinction here, with this piece, between what we are taught as children and what we come to learn as adults. As children we are (usually) praised when it seems our lessons are learned correctly and (more often) admonished when they reflect distorted. However, as adults these lessons, these words especially, come to have new meaning and the foundations built during youth often crumble in places. To sacrifice, to serve, remaining steadfast or to quietly wander away. These choices seem intended for only those minds that have reached a certain level of promiscuity with the ways of the world. There are opportunities and opportunists; both a necessary contrivance of destiny's call and, as always, the possibilities are endless. Well done, Emily. Well done.
Posted 11 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
11 Years Ago
not so many see what you have described in this words, I am grateful for your insight
. i know this pain so well ... so closely ... so intensely ... and so intimately ... you express it infinitely poetically ... these words are heartbreaking ... leaving silently is excruciating ... i don't know why the fact that one is "easily found" doesn't matter to those to whom it should matter the most ... i don't know what they think and why they don't value the presence of those they ought to cherish the most ... hopefully, they will learn the precious life lessons they need to learn ... hopefully, they will not take forever to learn ... they better not ...
That first stanza is so intriguing and resonant. The docility of possibility which we have to master. You capture perfectly the fraibility and strange-thinking central to so many of us. I have nothing to say, save this is again a stunning poem but that's exactly what I know I will find when I read your work.
Your poem brought me a memory from a favorite book, "Original Wisdom" by Robert Wolff...when the author went to visit the natives in the forest, there was always someone sitting there as if waiting for him to arrive even though there was no way to tell them he was coming, a wonderful book...I hope your quiet sacrifices are appreciated.
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..