Broken Road

Broken Road

A Poem by Kristina Moulaison

 

staring out the window

from my attic room

looking at the little church


willing the doors to open


preacher to stride across the crackled street


blow the hopeless out my back door


wandering off my front porch


minding my own business


sitting on the chapel steps


by the back door waiting for fate


to save my soul


pulling petals


he loves me he loves me not


over and over till I get it right






 

 

© 2014 Kristina Moulaison


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Featured Review

It's spare, but there is some really top-shelf use of language here--e.g., "blow the hopeless out my back door", "waiting for fate/to save my soul". Illustrates marvelously how subtle inferences can be much more powerful than straight-ahead, in-your-face prose. This is just a fine, fine piece of writing.

Posted 17 Years Ago


4 of 4 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

ha, can relate to pulling the petals until you get it right. This is like the quiet undertow, the calm before the storm, it speaks softly but says so much. I enjoyed it.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Kristina Moulaison

12 Years Ago

Thank you...I remember this moment. It didn't happen just like this, but close.
I just adored the sublety of this piece. It makes me imagine awhite clapboard chapel with a lost soul sitting on the steps looking...maybe searching for an answer holding a large daisy with a chain of them made at her feet doing the constant motion of your 2nd last line. Excellent writing.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

you sure know how to paint a picture

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Hummm, the cry of the hopeless. The wish that someone could ... would ... come and wash away the hopelessness. This is a plaintive wailing that perhaps is summed up most starkly by the last three lines.

Your voice reading is spectacular ... it adds so much feeling. I love it."

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

The depressed know sadness because they can observe happiness.
Happy people know happiness because they can observe sadness.
You often don't know where you stand until you are confronted with the opposite. Your play with words here is quite good, and gives a very clear picture of the girl and her feelings.

Posted 17 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Intense emotions expressed very well here. Many who have strong faith believe faith will solve all their problems. It is wonderful if you believe that. However, I am personally not sure the preacher can
"blow the hopeless out my back door"...which is, incidentally a fantastic line! Lydia

Posted 17 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

One excellent description of desperation and futility in realization of hopelessness.

Posted 17 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

bravo, promise you this, bravo, with someone who is talented like
the way you write its enjoyable to read each word in a focused
way, absorbing the imagery, the perspective is so unique, its as you
ould say, "naked", bare, the essence, soul expressed, i wrote a poem
similar to so but in opposite spectrum,you inspre me to post it,
the imagery and meaning pull upon the readers thoughts, written
with a depthful clarity! peace, mike


Posted 17 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Oh, this is good! It's like a trickle at the beginning that goes faster and faster until the last two lines cascade into the mind. "blow the hopeless out my back door " and "over and over till I get it right", in this standpoint, are the coolest lines I've ever read! I marvel at your wordplay.

Posted 17 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

I also love the line "blow the hopeless out my back door" I have never heard it put that way, and now I will have it forever! Excellent job.

Posted 17 Years Ago


3 of 3 people found this review constructive.


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14 Reviews
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Added on July 26, 2008
Last Updated on January 29, 2014

Author

Kristina Moulaison
Kristina Moulaison

Bellingham, WA



About
I write. Read me. We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, la.. more..

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