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This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2004-09-30 14:57:50 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Thoughts on An October Day

Flock of birds on this gray day lit by red-gold leaves, I turn to watch you swirl away from clouds, as if you were a living charcoal sketch in flight. Will I know when you‘ve come home? Perhaps that doesn’t matter; but only that I saw you go and celebrate your winged release. Dividing sky and spiraling like the Milky Way, you demonstrate that nothing lasts but everything persists above the ceaseless sting of wind.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Gerard A Geiger On Date: 2004-10-04 18:01:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.76471
Dear Joanne; Beautiful and haunting work...describing the flight of living birds as a charcoal sketch...rohrschacking the sky above brightly colored autumn leaves... wondering whether everything lasts above (heaven)the ceaseless "sting of wind" which I take to be a metaphor for the anguish of the complexities of life. The answer of course is there is no answer, but you stated succinctly in stanza two where you state: but only that I saw you go and celebrate your winged release. We cannot possess the birds...,we can see them... we can hear them....we can enjoy them for what we think they are...and we can remember their beauty.. and find solace in that memory on the dark cold days when there are no birds... Sorry to ramble Joanne...but your haunting work has sucked me in....we are not talking about birds, here are we?...perhaps one.... soothe your restless mind....all is as it should be... everything will be known once we move on in our own time... we all will fly above the ceaseless sting of wind....together. Thanks for the opportunity to share in this work... Always your friend, Gerard

This Poem was Critiqued By: Erzahl Leo M. Espino On Date: 2004-10-03 21:24:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.71429
Hi Joanne, Again, you let your readers “swirl” with your breezy words…soothingly touching each and everyone’s heart. Your words are always a success in reaching the audience’s attention and emotion. Reading your work…I can almost feel your heart. That is how you relate your experiences and your “whys” in life. You put it in words of wonder, and always…that wonder is expressed on the beauty of nature and mystery of life. And the bonus…from title to contents, they are all interweaved with lyrical brilliance. No doubt, you are TPL’s most admirable and inspiring writer. Your words can turn tragedies to hope…sadness to joy…mourning to laughter. I cannot say what is my favorite line or phrase for they are all my favorite. I cannot copy and paste and further explain your poem line by line for it all moved me. Reading it again and again just made the goosebumps beat stronger and stronger. From the poetic “a living charcoal sketch in flight” and “Dividing sky and spiraling like the Milky Way”, to the striking depth of the phrase: “Will I know when you‘ve come home? Perhaps that doesn’t matter; but only that I saw you go and celebrate your winged release.” --- My heart was aching upon reading this… …you effortlessly show your excellence knowing that these are just coming from the truths and reality of your heart. It shows how a natural poet you are! For me, all your work is a winner…this one is just a statistic. I’m glad I was able to meet and know you Joanne! You are a gift to us here in TPL! Thanks for sharing your life and talent to us! I am truly honored! Always a fan, Erzahl :)

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-10-03 05:58:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.86667
Joanne--Stanza one portrays speaker seemingly to casually look skyward at a simple nature scene which she commences to convey strong feeling about through poignant descriptors, thus, creating a picturesque image that's etched in read- er(s) mind. Although a free verse at heart, this piece has some rimes that found my ear (gray day; day/away; come home; dividing/spiraling/nothing/everything/sting). Excellent simile (like the milky way) serves as the precursor to a great philosophy/attitude to live by and my favorite line(s), as well as stupendous ending to the poem; "...you demonstrate that nothing lasts but everything persists above the ceaseless sting of wind." The entire three stanzas are true to the title and theme. Thanks for the glow. TLW

This Poem was Critiqued By: Karen Ann Jacobs On Date: 2004-10-03 00:40:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.57143
Dear Joanne, I love this line, “a living charcoal sketch in flight.” It is so amazing! The whole poem was great. This poem flows with the rhythm of the bird’s flight and it made me look beyond the release of birds to a release of our own young birds. Too soon, it seems, they’re flying on their own, off on their chosen paths, leaving us to watch them go. We know in our hearts, though, that we will see them again, even if we don’t know when. Hugs! Kay

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-10-01 16:21:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.76000
Hi Joanne, I did not intend to critique today but when I saw this poem on my list my thoughts of a nap vanished. I bought a new fridge..which didn't fit the hole so my neighbor came to the rescue. We had to take down the cupboards and take some of the length off the top and then I had to wash and paint..we have been two days doing this but finally finished. This is another spectacular piece and when I read between the lines I see it is far more than just a poem about migrating birds. flock of birds on this gray day lit by re-gold leaves,.........this is a lovely image of birds on the wing I turn to watch you swirl away.......swirl away is wonderful! from clouds, as if you were a living charcoal sketch in flight.....charcoal sketch is perfect here....it is like our our lives in that we are painted or drawn here for such a short time and easily erased when the time comes for all but the grief stricken will I know when your've come home?....you may not see them but you will feel them and know they are there just as you know the one you long to see is always there. perhaps that doesn't matter............it doesn't matter as they are never really gone but only that I saw you go.............this line saddens me as I often feel the same I saw you leave so that must mean you are really gone but now I know only the body goes but not the essence and celebrate your winged release......peace...at last dividing sky and spiraling like the Milky Way....................dividing sky is an amazing concept..love it you demonstrate that nothing lasts but everything persists above the ceaseless sting of wind.....there is an end to everything..a life and death of everything that 'is'...but death seems final only because we give it that connotation, it is nothing more than another phase of our life and that which we can no longer share with those who love us. so the birds that fly away evey autumn will return to bring a brighter day and fill our hearts with joy. When you answered my last crit you told me Mark's birthday was in September...so was my husbands! He turned 59 on Sept 18 and died on Oct 10th. Smile my friend....and look forward to another spring and the lovely birds that brings. Blessings Marilyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2004-09-30 19:26:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.44444
Dear Joanne, What a superb way of bringing October into view. This poem has exceptional imagery, feeling and warmth that is refreshing to read. It also spins a story of the birds leaving and if the author will see them return again. That is so imaginative and clever! I completely enjoyed this poem from beginning to end and found it to be an irresistable read. Sincerely, DeniMari

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2004-09-30 19:04:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
HRH Grand sky watcher: I'm not too creative in my brain but wanted you to know I read this and it makes me pine for October and a true season change. It's hot and humid here; more like August than October, oh great lucky one. Your muse has been perched on your shoulder all month which has to make you happy and all of us, too. Have been thinking of you all week and meaning or intending to e-mail today. Happy always to read anything you've scribed and there's something I see peripherally but can't pin down here. You've drawn a lovely picture in Stanza 1, grey day, birds swirling from clouds amid red-gold leaves. You make this pattern a maetaphor for a charcoal sketch and that feels so apropos. Van Gogh in one of his wheatfield paintings has those black double arcs in the sky background. This reminds me of his work. You use a 5-4-5 line/stanza form; I find myself increasingly concerned about form and why a poet uses a particular one. I think it's part of the way I crawl into a poet's cranium. A lot of poets say it just happened but I am discovering that the really "good" poets leave little to happenstance. Will I know when you've come home? Perhaps that doesn't matter; but only that I saw you go and celebrate your winged release. Quite intriguing question posed by poet and I think it DOES matter that poet (we) know when the birds return. My people and those who live close and attuned to earth know/feel these things. I agree it's quite important now when they are leaving us/you for more habitat-friendly areas that you celebrate their departure which you see as a release. In both stanzas, you bring your magical insights about birds into focus for your readers and symphonize the work by internal rhymes and particularly assonance. I feel I am standing by your side, gazing at the sky to see what you do. I wonder how much of what YOU see is visible to us. Ah, liebchen, that I cannot know, brain link or no, or as Rick said, he sees the two of us joined at the hip! You bring us easily to the epiphany and ending of your piece. You note that the birds divide the sky and then your simile of spiraling as the Milky Way. "Nothing lasts but everything persists above the ceaseless sting of wind." You have herded us gently to this conclusion, what Joyce called "The poem's soul, its whatness leaps to us from the vestment of its appearance." Oh, ye Irish mystical writers! You who have the intuitive grasp of reality achieved in a quick flash of recognition and you gift your readers with new looks at an ordinary things as Joyce did consistently. That requires an abundance of spirituality and comprehension and as if you as poet have the inside track on matters of which most of are unaware. It must get lonely in your rarefied air, my friend, until Mark, Rick, Tom et al wander past. The poem needs no help from anyone and I see nothing I would change. Encore four times or more and purple pansies still standing at your front door. All my best (sorry but I tire so easily), Mell-o

This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-09-30 15:56:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.12121
The birds migration always leaves me a little melancholy, it makes fall start to merge into winter and leaves summer in a lonely past, warm memories for me to swirl around in my glass of port. the flocks are waving farewell until next spring. Thanks for letting me read and comment.

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