First, my heart and prayers: First, my heart and prayers go out to you and your baby brother in this difficult time. As with everything you write, your talent is a beacon in this deeply piercing and heartfelt expression. As exceptional as it is sorrowful. My sympathy and respect.
No words of mine are adequate: No words of mine are adequate to speak of, or to, the poignancy of this poem, and the distress and worry you must feel for your brother. Rather than commenting on the poem as a poem, I will say, rather, that it gave me a very compelling reason to set my breakfast aside to lift him up in prayer. I, myself, have had a couple of mini-strokes; so I have some idea how frightening they can be, either to the patient or to the patient's loved ones.
You got it right with this: You got it right with this demonstration of what it's really like to keep it all straight in our heads. Welcome to my world. Great stuff. Love it!
The poetic gymnastics, the: The poetic gymnastics, the acrobatic alliteration, the experimental metrics . . . the entire trip was a uniquely satisfying challenge.
Once I was deep in the rabbit hole, I was enjoying the mystifying artistry of it all, and although I can't say that I succeeded in unraveling every line, I admire your rare, edgy and audacious flights of diction that follow in the footsteps of groundbreaking, avant-garde word artists such as Allen Ginsberg who celebrated his eccentricity and wrote "without fear".
These lines, for me, made me feel as if I had struck gold and impressed me as the motherload of imagination:
"Murderous trance of time
Wack hell out of balance"
Some opulent eloquence. You rock!
The catch of the day is . . .: The catch of the day is . . . happiness.
Delightful, the way you bring passages from the Bible into the present and make them relatable, relevant and enlivening to readers in need of a smile and a dose of encouragement. Written with lighthearted, accessible wit interwoven with personal experience and your own descriptive powers, this lyrical pleasure made the book of Luke spring to life.
A net filled with joy.
Thanks SSmoothie for such a: Thanks SSmoothie for such a great critique, I'm happy you found this to your liking.
I was watching my shadow melt into the last of a long day, and I thought it appropriate I deliver a eulogy.
You’re forgettable…: You're forgettable
That's what you are
So forgettable
Can't find your car?
It must be somewhere
In the parking lot
But where exactly
That's what you forgot
Did you even take the car today?
Are you sure?
Really sure?
You're forgettable
In every way
So forgettable
Worse every day
That's why it's so incredible
That you think I'm unforgettable
You wanted to tell me
But you forgot
What you wanted to say
Thank you for posting this. : Thank you for posting this. The poem describes an emotion that all of us have experienced at some time and that many of us, I suspect, feel quite frequently. In eleven brief lines, you describe it quite precisely, but those final two lines almost jump off the screen with the power of the truth that they present and declare.
The royals are a mess: I have always been a fan of Diana. She was never treated right by them and now Harry speaks out and is targeted. Not a coincidence.
Another reason why..: Another reason why butchers may have not been allowed to serve on juries is some less than honest butchers have been known to put their thumbs on the scale when they'd weigh your order. This would cause the scale to go higher and you would be charged more. The last thing they want on a jury is a butcher who would put his thumb on the scales of Justice and unfairly weigh a verdict one way or another. I think you would agree it was the right decision to make.
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