incantation Posted April 12, 2023 Share Posted April 12, 2023 I still read sonnets But cannot count syllables, Deliver fire from the Eyes of angels who counted ten fires, Will the verses of my life be preserved. I Paint heaven from The view of my mother's Womb. No one can Help me to excavate dreams Of rusting suns, desolate Train tracks passing the Running eyes of time. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted April 12, 2023 Share Posted April 12, 2023 Good one, Barry! This one sounds like it should be dedicated to me: 4 hours ago, incantation said: I still read sonnets But cannot count syllables As for this: 4 hours ago, incantation said: Will the verses of my life be preserved. Only here. And this reads like me from another lifetime, so far away, so long ago: 4 hours ago, incantation said: … No one can Help me to excavate dreams Of rusting suns, desolate Train tracks passing the Running eyes of time. Nice work, great read, as always. Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Terry A Posted April 13, 2023 Share Posted April 13, 2023 Very poignant, and a little heart-wrenching in its introspection. The imagery well chosen and aptly revelatory in its support of the title. You capture the sadness of loss even anticipated. As to what time will make of efforts, no writer ever knows. This poem touches upon the heart of human experience significantly, as good as it gets in poetry. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tinker Posted April 14, 2023 Share Posted April 14, 2023 Barry, This is one of your best ever. I felt the confusion, the uncertainty. Reading the piece tells the story. I think the title gives it away and this is just my opinion but, if it were mine, I'd grace it with a more mysterious title. Alzhiemer's is a mystery. ~~Tink Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Terry A Posted April 14, 2023 Share Posted April 14, 2023 The lines-"the view of my mother's womb" confused me for a split second until I realized, Yes! the return to childhood so often experienced by Alzheimer's sufferers, or perhaps stretching it, to rebirth. I've been thinking about the title too, and it is often something more poetic might enhance the poem. But the word-Alzheimers- is so loaded to anyone that hears it, loaded with dread, fear, compassion, it is powerful in itself. And surrounds the substance of the poem. Just my 2cents, Judi, I can't think of a better title. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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