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This Poem was Submitted By: Kenneth R. Patton On Date: 2005-10-17 08:49:10 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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In The Presence

He took the stage with the presence of a carpenter who knows how to fix most anything His words, direct and true ripped rusty nails from my soul It is clean now But I can still feel each nail as it was pulled Sometimes slowly, or violently wrenched I gasped with pain and knowledge

Additional Notes:
I finally got to see one of my favorite folk singers. Dave Mallet from Maine. In a nice small coffee house setting.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2005-11-07 07:10:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.75000
Dear Kenneth I pondered over what seemed to be obvious "Christ the personal Redeemer" implications of this piece for a while, and then scrolled down to your notes, previously hidden by my browser window. At first that threw me off. But then I though, "Nah, that's just a red herring, thrown in by a wily writer, that would only throw off the less committed." Which probably means I am over-commtted to my first reading! I found it quite visceral in effect. Your clean, unembellished language made me re-feel my own moments of having one of the veils lifted. Raw and effective, and with a very approachable spirituality to it. With or without Jesus H's presence. Regards Mark

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jillian K Sorenson On Date: 2005-10-25 02:57:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.61905
Hooray for neighborhood coffee houses that are not Starbucks! Hooray for folk singers! Hooray for Maine! (Okay, I've been up for a really long time....I'm a bit giddy). For seriousness now, I like this. It reminds me of housekeeping/homeremodeling/carpenters I have known. It's a nice metaphor. I like the almost unwillingness to give up those rusty nails from your soul. Here's the thing however - I do like this poem, but without the notes I wouldn't know who this fellow was - comedian, poet, singer, and so forth you know? So my suggestion would be a bit more atmospheric detail....that would make the poem more surround sound (heh, I said I was a bit giddy :) ).

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2005-10-17 23:56:51
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Kenneth--One of TPL's most adamant music lovers, Mell Morris, once wrote "Music is magic and magic brings music." Your adoration for this talented artist certainly may validate her statement with your on figurative language; "His words, direct and true ripped rusty nails from my soul It is clean now But I can still feel each nail as it was pulled Sometimes slowly, or violently wrenched I gasped with pain and knowledge" This tribute and title to Dave Mallet (IMO) is a partial of "In the Presence...of Greatness." Poignant and terse and personal. Thanks. TLW

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-10-17 16:32:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Kenneth, The being a carpenter had me thinking biblical thoughts but no. It's the theme. For ripping out rusty nails from the soul. It was a spiritual awakening via music and song. As poetry is our soul's voice, music and song brings his forth! He spoke from his soul. Not so much as folk singing as it is his spirit singing. How nice to appreciate his gift. And what a nice tribute this poem to him. And enjoyed by me! Good job. I tend to think we never rid ourselves of all the rusty nails. Dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-10-17 09:08:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Kenneth, So glad to see you and to find this on my list this morning. Excellant structure, easy word flow moves the reader right along. Your clean verbiage adds to punctuate this piece. He took the stage with the presence of a carpenter who knows how to fix most anything [how wonderfully phrased,the Lord Jesus portayed as he should be, our carpenter, he can fix us] His words, direct and true ripped rusty nails from my soul It is clean now [most agonizing, but so necessary to cleanse our souls] But I can still feel each nail as it was pulled Sometimes slowly, or violently wrenched I gasped with pain and knowledge [such wonderful lines here, to remember the pain lest we forget and transgress] What an awesome write, simply delicious in the message it sends. Thank you so much for honoring us with this offering. Par excellance, bravo! Warmest always, Lora

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