This Poem was Submitted By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2005-06-08 15:30:02 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Mindless Wanderer

Thoughts lost broken pieces remain jig sawed, helpless trying to shake the mind into something concrete. Joy felt for a split second hardships removed, forgiveness only a word concepts contain little consistency actions not retrievable. Contacts molded and modified changing pathways, never the same, easily satisfied obtained without effort not realizing it was reached. Frustration only for a moment deviates from its course, a tributary without direction events rarely lived again. Love,  hate, sadness, pleasure unidentified due to gaps blended as one, Keys, wallets, pens misplaced, not remembering locations with blocked walls…

Copyright © June 2005 Thomas H. Smihula


This Poem was Critiqued By: Elaine Marie Phalen On Date: 2005-07-07 06:37:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Thomas, The inherent irony in this piece is that anyone who can write like this, and communicate so clearly the sense of anomie - of rootlessness - is far from "mindless"! I have often shared such feelings and to an extent, have them now, so I can easily relate to this piece. Your diction is beautifully chosen to reflect the drifting sensation: broken, jig sawed, helpless, not retrievable, molded, modified, changing, deviates, etc. This is a poem about flux and reassembly (which, I think, the poet undergoes often). We try to fix a form and then it dissipates, so we struggle to create something else we can accept, or believe, or even follow. We're an experimental lot but sometimes, we tend to forget who or even where we are. But yet we're anxious to find the right fit, to belong. Your speaker reminds us that nothing is permanent. If we feel we've arrived, then the destination will move away or shift. "Keys, wallets, pens" = freedom, material possessions, and communication. These are the wheels that direct us on the journey. That final stanza is filled with confusion and despair. How do we unlock the barriers? What payment is expected of us and how do we make it? Will we be forever trapped within ourselves, unable even to seek help or convey our distress? It is no accident that your final image is of "blocked walls". This is stark, honest writing. It addresses a problem that, a century ago, fewer people probably had to wrestle with - they knew what was expected of them, where their places were, how to proceed. Now we have so many options (maybe too many?) and the possibilities can get overwhelming. A worthy treatment of the modern age. You speak with the voice of Everyman and most of us can answer with, "Ah yes, I understand!" Brenda


This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-06-25 14:06:07
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
All I can say is this is so true. Everything eventually blended together. Locations with blocked walls is very apt. Perhaps a session with a hypnotist? I try to recall certain events and details of my life and I say to myself, "was I really there? Was I a part of that? It seems like those events NEVER happened"). I say that all the time. Time has no relative meaning when these are recalled and sometimes we are lucky to have a photograph of that event. 30 years ago I was on a train in Alaska on the very last car of this narrow gauge railway. The sites were spectacular. I was awed. So awed that I didn't take one picture and the camera was hanging around my neck! Did these happen? I have nothing but a memory. So in some respects I was (am) like you, "The Mindless Wanderer". Thanks so much for bringing me back in time. Your piece is well done, well laid out, and easy to read with no hidden meanings.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mandie J Overocker On Date: 2005-06-19 18:37:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Thomas, You have cleverly depicted The wandering mind. and hence your title is so apropo. I am intrigued by your use of stanzas and line breaks as they pull me to read further and further, becoming lost amongst the thoughts of the mindless wanderer. what art. thank you for sharing this with us. Mandie
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2005-06-18 05:50:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.95455
Hi Thomas, I see a storm in this one...the mind is restless, indecisive, absent and confused. I guess you are alluding to one of those blistery moments when the world just spins around, creating a whirlwind of stuff or a specific point of time in your life when things were a little too wayward. This is very evident from the strong descriptives used in the piece from start to finish from abstractions based on broken thoughts, forgiveness and frustrations to the more tangible (misplacement) of keys, wallets, pens. It is only apt that you use the word 'wanderer' in your title, for it is in times such as these when we (or our minds, our futures) just wander aimlessly. I liked the depth in this one, Thomas and I am sure many of us (including myself) will be able to identify with this. Take care, Duane.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-06-09 02:42:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
The 'spirit of the mind' is a wonderful thing, the 'spirit of the soul' will make you whole...... The Mindless Wanderer' to me represents someone with perhaps a sickness in which they no longer have control over their emotions, their comings, their goings, their relationship with others........they tend to be within themselves more and more.......... good structure poet, word flow which brings out the best in each stanza allowing images to poor forth as well.....feelings associated with life and sorrow and pain are also represented for one who has a wandering mind perhaps does not realize what is actually taking place around them......... For someone losing a parent, friend to Altheimers (spelling so off).....it is not easy to watch....the loss of connection between the two spirits brings for sadness, takes love at some point and turns it around, removes much for a relationship but in reality I hope everyone understands that person is there still, struggling to be heard from within, reaching out as best as they can.....knowing youa re still there...... We all tend to have 'senior moments' in which we either repeat something, misplace something, get loss in our own thoughts perhaps.......but we are not considered mindless .....though at times with my own personal health issues I often consider myself a mindless wanderer. Thank you for posting this interesting poem.....one that has much to think about, much to contemplate, offer.........God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-06-08 15:52:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Thomas: Really not so mindless a wanderer, only one who wants to speak out but halted or stilted for want of where to begin. “Thoughts lost broken pieces remain jig sawed, helpless trying to shake the mind into something concrete” This I derived from the abruptness and short stanza’s in the beginning. Your word of “lost broken pieces, jig sawed” speaks of one who want to put things together but not sure how. The illusion of joy, is quickly dashed when one realizes that some things are spoken in haste, “Joy felt for a split second hardships removed, forgiveness only a word concepts contain little consistency actions not retrievable.” Frustration that things don’ fit into the box’s they are pre-perceived to do. From there, you spell out it all and your words flow more freely till you come to your conclusion with is one we have all reached from time to time, “Love, hate, sadness, pleasure unidentified due to gaps blended as one, Keys, wallets, pens misplaced, not remembering locations with blocked walls…” This work took me on a journey that at first I was uncomfortable with but as it moved on the familiar understanding of these feelings came into view. Unusual piece, unexpected journey, thank you.
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