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Flashbacks *** |
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Jan 11 17, 17:42
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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I've just found this in the archives and would like to do some revision.
Flashbacks
I saw your father last night
Two years have rolled by since the phone tolled delivering its terminal message.
This earthquake shook me waves radiating from my epicentre.
In a tremor of aftershock I whispered to her of his slipping away.
sorry to hear that - she was distanced from the devastation.
Aw… he looked so handsome
He wore a flat cap in winter to warm his shiny pate,
Now, it rests at the back of my reminiscence drawer with her butterfly brooch and snapshots of their life.
I scrutinize their wedding photo, all eyes smiling, lips saying Cheese. His dark waves were intact … yes, he was handsome.
I think he might take me back
When their marriage fractured a tug of war stretched me until I split into pieces. Although middle-aged, I was a child.
He embraced a new wife for twelve years, Even if his life had extended, he could not … would not return to her yearning arms.
He gave me a beautiful brooch
Her smile was wide - unaware the broken butterfly would not settle on her breast again.
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Jan 13 17, 21:26
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 250
Joined: 1-November 15
Member No.: 5,282
Real Name: richard chase
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Rhapsody
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eisa - I find this very compelling, with som many specific details that illumine the caharacter. Well done, R
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Jan 15 17, 20:46
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Ornate Oracle
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 8,965
Joined: 27-August 04
From: Bariloche, Argentine Patagonia
Member No.: 78
Real Name: Sylvia Evelyn Maclagan
Writer of: Poetry & Prose
Referred By:David Ting
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Hi Eisa,
Your poem brings out many emotions in me, as it must have done when you wrote it, as well as in real life.
It's highly personal, so I'm worried about making any crits. The best thing would be for me to return when my own feelings have soothed.
There are several issues in this poem: visions due to a failing mind, separation, death, unawareness on the one hand, and piercing sorrow on the other. Confusion. And much more.
I'll return, Eira, perhaps with worthwhile comments. Not easy.
Thanks for sharing this delicate piece, hugs, Syl PS: I'll be writing! Hope you're over the sniffles and painful back. To think we're enjoying summer weather here, with marvellous blue skies! And not too hot, either, so no complaints. Bye again!
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Mis temas favoritos The Lord replied, my precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.
"There is no life higher than the grasstops Or the hearts of sheep, and the wind Pours by like destiny, bending Everything in one direction."
Sylvia Plath, Crossing the Water, Wuthering Heights. Nominate a poem for the InterBoard Poetry Competition by taking into careful consideration those poems you feel would best represent Mosaic Musings. For details, click into the IBPC nomination forum. Did that poem just captivate you? Nominate it for the Faery award today! If perfection of form allured your muse, propose the Crown Jewels award. For more information, click here!MM Award Winner
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Jan 30 17, 16:40
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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QUOTE (RC James @ Jan 14 17, 02:26 ) eisa - I find this very compelling, with som many specific details that illumine the caharacter. Well done, R Thanks Richard, I don't think I'll change much here - I'm just thinking on it at the moment. Eira
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Jan 30 17, 17:00
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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QUOTE Hi Eisa, Your poem brings out many emotions in me, as it must have done when you wrote it, as well as in real life. It's highly personal, so I'm worried about making any crits. The best thing would be for me to return when my own feelings have soothed. There are several issues in this poem: visions due to a failing mind, separation, death, unawareness on the one hand, and piercing sorrow on the other. Confusion. And much more. I'll return, Eira, perhaps with worthwhile comments. Not easy. Thanks for sharing this delicate piece, hugs, Syl PS: I'll be writing! Hope you're over the sniffles and painful back. To think we're enjoying summer weather here, with marvellous blue skies! And not too hot, either, so no complaints. Bye again! Hi Syl,
Yes, this is personal, but don't worry about commenting. I want to improve the poem. The words in Bold are a conversation I had with my mother when she had Alzheimer's and was staying in the nursing home. It made me feel very sad, because she could never accept her divorce from my father.
My 'sniffles' turned out to be much worse than expected and I'm only just getting back to normal. I wish it were Summer here. I'm depressed at the gloomy skies and dark mornings and nights.
hugs Eira
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Apr 7 17, 16:53
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 250
Joined: 1-November 15
Member No.: 5,282
Real Name: richard chase
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Rhapsody
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Eira - You had asked for some ideas on revision. Here's my take:
Flashbacks
I saw your father last night, two years since the phone delivered the terminal message.
This earthquake shook my epicenter and radiated out. In the aftershock, I whispered his slipping away to her, she was at some distance from the devastation.
Aw…he looked so handsome. In winter he wore a flat cap to warm his shiny pate. Now it’s at the back of my reminiscence drawer, with her butterfly brooch and their photos.
Their wedding photo is all eyes, smiling, his dark waves intact, so handsome he was.
I think he might take me back.
When their marriage Fracture’d, a tug of war stretched me until I Split into pieces. Although middle-aged, I was a child.
He harbored a new wife for twelve years. Even given more years, he could not… would not return home to her yearning arms.
He gave me a beautiful brooch.
Her smile was wide – unaware the broken butterfly would never again settle on her breast.
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Apr 12 17, 15:41
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Mosaic Master
Group: Praetorian
Posts: 4,599
Joined: 4-August 03
From: Birmingham, England
Member No.: 12
Real Name: Eira Needham
Writer of: Poetry
Referred By:Lori
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Thank you Richard - this has given me some ideas. I really need to revise this.
Eira
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