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In My Thoughts Flickering flamed tallow wax drop dropped. Tightening eye lid smacking its lower in spliced thunder pound. Abduction ideas planted back, back so far... the shudder is indistinct-dreamed. Is it all worked?, this mad heap of self-selling? Drawn forth by each leap to sell at every telling? Is even a glimpse at the loose tent flap any more The boyhood grace of circus going? Or The glistening eyes given their first nubile-aware showing? Do we own even the least of these? Anymore? |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2007-11-05 19:50:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
James, this touches me. I can almost hear “Patches, I’m depending on you sonâ€, “I’ve tried to do my best, It’s up to you to do the restâ€.
That was not meant as anything but a compliment. I listened to the “indistinct-dreamedâ€
You wonder why, maybe, the “glimpse†or even the “boyhood grace†and you have me walking where I once did, or wished to. I write this piece after my daughters regular visit to the old folks home...
In your thoughts- I can say that I have thrown the gauntlet down many times when in your thoughts- “do we own even the least of theseâ€
I wonder, or maybe the resident value resides deeper than the presumption of disagreement. Maybe, that is the “thought†or maybe-
we should just remember that the little boy was once, use.