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This Poem was Submitted By: John Dean On Date: 2005-07-08 16:02:54 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Motel Dreaming

She asked me to light a barbeque Didn't she realise there was no fuel I collected rocks and pebbles from a beach Laid them on a bed of sand She cried with laughter at my ineptitude Flowers grew from the stones where her tears fell This is my gift to you A rock garden

This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2005-08-07 23:51:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.84615
This is poetry John. This is one of the most eccentric and interesting poems I've read this month. It has a square title, and what unfolds is a great little poem with a twist of fate and fantasy and feeling. I love how you turn the moment into something ultimately beautiful in the end, a rock garden. Who would have thought? And sometimes this is the way love goes, so I think this poem makes a great illustration on love and relationships. The key word is ineptitude. It happens a lot. But you take the results and make something special. That's good advice. This poem is good advice, wishful thinking or just a silly dream. Hence, the title. At any rate, great poem. Great job. I'm glad I read it. Latorial www.latorialfaison.com

This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-08-06 16:28:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.82051
There is some sort of hypothesis here which I'm still trying to figure out. And the title - I can't figure that out either. It doesn't (to me) fit the poem. But then, hey, it's your piece.I'm sure others will have a better take on this though. Maybe I'm too analythical or logical (never thought I was). All that being said I can see why your friend laughed, but if it was hot enough you could have made matzoh (unleavened bread) on the rocks if it was hot enough. Tears, flowers, rock garden, I guess it all fits. Wow, I'm way off base here, right? But thanks for making me think.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-07-22 05:30:50
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.74074
Hello Poet.....I have read this one over and over and I find it heartwarming.......good structure, word flow, images created from the flare of your pen along with emotions that come with love....perhaps a one sided love at this point but so real that you would do anything within reason to please this lady of yours. Love the thought of the rock garden and her tears allowing the flowers to grow within........a very special gift indeed.........Motel Dreaming, good title as well.....thank you for posting and sharing with us. God Bless, Claire

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2005-07-14 09:54:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.60000
And this is your gift to us - a wonderful evocative and gentle poem. A poem of expectation and pathos, and life She asked me to light a barbeque Didn't she realise there was no fuel *she asked me -- too much --- she asked me to do the inmpossible I collected rocks and pebbles from a beach Laid them on a bed of sand *I tried my best to please her - to do as she asked She cried with laughter at my ineptitude *but she didn't understand or appreciate my efforts Flowers grew from the stones where her tears fell *still - in loving her - [amazingly - even with out the reciprocity of her love --of love I have been enriched I have grown, i have blossomed This is my gift to you A rock garden I give you my whole self - the sun of all my experiences - this is the message as I see - it whatever your intention might be in its message - this is a marvelous poem best to you Rachel

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2005-07-10 20:53:00
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
John: Hello again! I remember you poem from earlier this year, in spring, I think: “Close Separation.” So I was prepared to enjoy this poem, as well. It is always fun to enjoy language used by poetic souls, especially to seek out the metaphor the poet happens to be listening to or singing. I like this poem for its unexpected turns. And hope I am not going to saw off the limb I am at this moment crawling out upon. It’s a bit risky, but here goes! Your title alerts me to the frequent ‘purpose’ or use of motels for rendezvous. Probably not as much as in previous decades, but the association lingers. She asked me to light a barbeque Didn't she realise there was no fuel One can hardly imagine a barbecue as available in such quarters, so I take it as a metaphor. One thinks of passion’s fires, sometimes not so easily lit. The couple seem comfortable with one another, with humor overriding any initial obstacles, if you will. Her expectations were visible as she made them so, and her potential suitor took action, whilst entertaining some misgivings. Of course a nearby beach suggested a possible solution, beaches often being trysting places. Get some rocks, and arrange them on a ‘bed of sand’ – nicely put. The rocks can symbolize something that ‘rocks’ as verb, or something symbolically strong. The pebbles could be reminders not to have unrealistic hopes. Coupling suggests itself to this reader with the words “bed” and “laid” having that connotation. She cried with laughter at my ineptitude One wonders if it is humor, frustration, empathy, or a combination of all of those in a comfortable relationship. Couples who know one another well will often laugh at inopportune moments or situations which would drive uneasy partners quickly into terminal embarrassment. I don’t know if I am even at the correct address, but it doesn’t matter. The poem is itself. Flowers grew from the stones where her tears fell Somehow with the ease of humor and cherishing her tears, something delicate and loving, something which unfailingly perpetuates itself – that thing, love itself, the situation righted itself, so to speak. This is my gift to you A rock garden A lovely rock garden! What a pleasant and discerningly written denouement for the temporary ‘lack of fuel’ with which the poem began. Things are only as difficult or easy as we allow them to be, I think you are showing us. This graceful couple knew (knows) how to make the best of a stressful situation by applying tolerance and warmth. Delightful read, and thank you once again. My best to you, Joanne

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2005-07-10 10:59:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
John, there is always a perspective, or cryptic calling when looking towards nod. I enjoy the view that is provided by another. Of course all of the questions that need to be ask and answered, won’t be, so one must take the images at face value, yet I find, the psyche of my dreams is found alive in my waking hours. This piece is as engrossing as any a fancy I can recall, whether an ersatz fantasy or reality. Motel Dreaming – One usually stays in a motel while traveling, whether with a loved one, or alone. Either way, the romance is usually good, or the desires (of good) unrequited, it lends itself to those dreams one dreams, of passion. She asked me to light a barbeque – Immediately we meet the protagonist and antagonist, and they are one and the same. We must take a moment to measure, and wait to see if the result of that evaluation, is accurate. Didn't she realize there was no fuel (realize) – Once again, she wants fire/passion, but the fuel, is unavailable. There is desire in this line, and a sense of unknowing disappointment. I collected rocks and pebbles from a beach Laid them on a bed of sand – I found this interesting, that almost as a quirk/gift/ or maybe even a seduction, the beach/rocks/pebbles, are “laid” on a “bed” of sand- and there is an implied result within this gift, that it would be “accepted/understood”, and all would be better. Missing is the perturbation at her not understanding the lack of fuel, the need for such, to stoke both fire and passion. She cried with laughter at my ineptitude – Ah, the truth of caring/love, and she laughs at your ineptitude, still oblivious to the fact that, it was her ignorance that is being alleviated by your ineptitude, a gift well received. Flowers grew from the stones where her tears fell – this is such a poigant twist on the normal “poetic” usage- normally the tears are from sadness, but here, the flowers dance as they are borne of tears of laughter. How alive, how momentously fertile. I shan’t forget this twist, nor the flowers in my mind. This is my gift to you A rock garden – And the garden, borne of the pebbles and rocks. I wonder of she who could inspire such, but am left with the overall “moral of the story”, that there grows beauty, it is only to be discovered and understood. Excellent verse, truly excellent.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-07-08 22:23:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.91667
John, This is a delight...ok, I have a strange sense of humor. Your poem conveyed feelings of some one in love trying to please his lady fair. She asked me to light a barbeque Didn't she realise there was no fuel I collected rocks and pebbles from a beach Laid them on a bed of sand Your subjects heart was definately in the right place and his intent most noble, She cried with laughter at my ineptitude Here I'm hoping the tears are of the loving kind and that the ineptitude was his own interpetation of his actions. Flowers grew from the stones where her tears fell This is my gift to you A rock garden Even the most misplaced emotion and action can bloom into something of beauty, a perfect gift, heart felt and earthy. Your poem is well structured, read easily and the imagery was a nice treat for the mind. Thank you so much for this break from the norm. Lora

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-07-08 18:34:44
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
John, Motel hell.....where her tears fell....[I know it wasn't there, it just rhymed] This 'feels' so sad and alone/lonely. You're stayng in a motel for now/dreaming of what was. I can relate to aloneness. It seems we must be happy with ourselves if we have no 'other'....and we can be. She left/time passed/flowers grew/you're now stepping out gifting your 'pain/lost love's flowers to us 'others' This means you're coming away from that sorrow. Letting it go is most difficult! I gladly accept your wonderful rock garden of a poem, and much value you're sharing. I'm thinking you are the singer/song writer. You could write a ballad with this one. I think you're very imaginitive using the rock idea. All the hurt turned into flowers! Good job,, I've got rock gardens of my own. Who said life was fair.....not. Flowers need the rain and 'the sun' my best, Dellena

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