This Poem was Submitted By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-11-13 18:32:27 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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And So It Went The piece of paper crumpled in my fist,
again I held my mouth tightly silent.
Too many times I've been forced to be still.
Weren't my thoughts of any importance?
Not being exceptional in any way,
my lagging confidence held strong
barricading the inroads to dreams of fulfillment.
It was the storefront of my existence.
"Unworthy" whispered the voice in my mind.
Someone's smarter than you in every way.
Every thought you think has been thought.
Every word you utter has been uttered."
"There is not much new under the sun!
What makes you equal to another one?"
My heart smiled pure, my desire strong
and I plugged along searching for answers.
The miles passed long, the years passed fast.
Never being quick enough, bit-by-bit I overcome.
Understanding better the perils of existence,
I've learned at last, what I'm responsible for
and what I'm not…making all the difference.
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Copyright © November 2005 Dellena Rovito
This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2005-11-26 13:57:32
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
Del-
I like this. Nothing fancy, but well thought out,
well formed, creative. The rhythm, the rhymes,
they all work.
And I like the "chin up" attitude.
tom
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2005-11-26 11:30:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.96000
Dellena, so the determination is actually a self determination- not controlled by the external epitaphs of this world?
I know the thoughts have often been second guessed, and being a musician and songwriter, I have often yearned for the voice and skills of other vocalists and musicians, to the point that I questioned, damn, that is enough to make a man quit!!
And you have the “exceptional” answer we all must come to. Mine was always so as well.
Your “inroads to dreams of fulfillment” – now there is a road to travel. Barricades? We don’t see no stinkin’ barricades- (fifty cents if you have any idea where that play on words actually, originally came from. Most use it and have no idea what movie the original badge comment is from) – nevertheless – our contribution is essential, is it not?
I found the “perils of existence” to be almost a exclamation to the “power of the pinnacle” – without one, there is not the other.
A good piece, worth the wait!!
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-11-16 23:54:02
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Ossiyo Dellena,
I swear I critiqued this one already, but alas I can’t find it, so here we go again…LOL I hope you will bare with me. I felt as if you looked inside my journal and read me. How well I know of what you speak. This for me was like having someone mind reading. It is comforting to know that others feel the same, have shared experiences. I do feel part of it is because we are taught from very young, not to show emotions, to keep a straight face and tight grip else we show weakness; just a thought. Yes, I applaud you for showing such courage, strength for sharing this intimate, well penned offering and taking a stand. Your words left clean and clear imprints on my mind without any doubt of what you were saying, where it came from and your resolve. I totally support your thoughts in this offering and your depth and skill of this writing. There is nothing I could suggest by way of change without damaging this poem or misconstruing your intent and message. Brava! I am standing and applauding you.
Here’s a hug back to you,
Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2005-11-14 17:09:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.88889
Dellena, you're something. I think I like you for the same reasons I like Marsha Steed. Some time ago
you and I didn't it off too well, back on the old Forum when I seemed to be having a lot of fun at most
everyone else's expense. It only seemed that way and I think you figured that out.
Your poem here is delightful. Not just because of its protagonist being able to come through societal
"minamalizing" but that they win out over it, that they are in no way lesser for it, but better. Bringing
off the first question anyone would probably think to ask, isn't life vastly more than one big popularity
contest, starting the first time the kids in school realized some were dressed better than others?
This is a very good poem, aside from its reliance on a form it well observes, aside from its tempered use
of imagery and tight verse structure.
There is a stark difference between your poem and one other that seeks to battle with what it perceives to
be unfair treatement. Yours is universal enough to apply broadly and to launch no singular attack on another
that might make it a vendetta. Yours has been inspired by Muse, not just sruck to "use". Yours will stand
the test of acutally being "poetry".
The product of a quiet spirit, one that can have a Muse.
You know the richness of your thoughts and you've found a genre in which to express them. Donald Trump has
had every advantage and that goose looks like a masquerade that never ends and will partake in any absurd
venture to be in the public eye. You are as much ahead of him in class and thought as those that may have
made your protagonist feel like a lesser, but that would now be standing in line to grovel for a job from
this syncophant.
Well, perhaps I'll get another of your poems today...don't forget the "1".
JCH
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mary J Coffman On Date: 2005-11-14 14:23:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dellena,
This is so very powerful, and poignant. So guarded, yet so revealing. A rare, in-depth glimpse into a tortured soul. Your word choices are perfection, and maintain the level of power and impact this peice has, right to the very end.
The piece of paper crumpled in my fist,
again I held my mouth tightly silent.
Too many times I've been forced to be still.
Weren't my thoughts of any importance
So much frustration, and self doubt in this excellent oopening quatrain. It sets both mood, and ambiance so well, allowing the reader to begin 'experiencing' this write from the beginning. So many of us can relate, I'm sure, to the punch of the last line..., "weren't my thoughts of any importance", and yet we tremble in anticipation of the answer.
Not being exceptional in any way,
my lagging confidence held strong
barricading the inroads to dreams of fulfillment.
It was the storefront of my existence.
"...;agging confidence..." an integral part of our own self-doubt, again, reinforcing the frustration, and feelings of inadequacy in the first verse. Nice carry through! But, my favorite line here ie the third one... "barricading the inroads to dreams of fulfillment..." WOW! So very well conveyed! So often, we block ourselves from success (of any kind) with our own fear failure.
"Unworthy" whispered the voice in my mind.
Someone's smarter than you in every way.
Every thought you think has been thought.
Every word you utter has been uttered."
Again, the reinforcement. It says so much, in its simplicity. Dripping with emotion. The dual meaning here is excellent, as well. Feelings of 'unworthiness' as a writer perhaps? (Although, we all 'know' that's not the case, don't we *smile*) Unworthy of any form of aknowlegement? Or, perhaps just plain 'unworthy'...period. So many layers to explore here.
"There is not much new under the sun!
What makes you equal to another one?"
My heart smiled pure, my desire strong
and I plugged along searching for answers.
Despite all. there shines that glimmer of hope. That desire to excel. The constant search for answers, that is so much a part of our personal growth. Love the turn around!
The miles passed long, the years passed fast.
Never being quick enough, bit-by-bit I overcome.
Understanding better the perils of existence,
I've learned at last, what I'm responsible for
and what I'm not…making all the difference.
And, at long last... understanding. Something some may never acheive. Life itself, being a long, arduous journey with many hard lessons. Love the first line... very profound, and to the point. Yet, through all you endure, to rise above it. That spells success in my book!
Truly a wonderful write, Dellena. I so enjoyed this peice, my friend. Thanks for sharing such a personal poem with all of us.
Always,
Mary
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2005-11-14 05:30:12
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.72222
Dear Dellena,
I apologise for my inability to read this poem except through the prism of the recent heated forum exchanges. Which perhaps means that while the light that comes through to me is perhpas bluer than you intend, it's source is still the light you have put on offer.
I thought I'd quote a bit of Blake here, before I do my own bit of waffling:
"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom;
The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction;
One law for the lion and ox is oppression"
[Of this] Blake explains that, "Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence. From these contraries spring what the religious call Good & Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy."
Now the problem for us ordinary mortals is one of self-definition: do we consider ourselves the horse or the tiger? Never mind that, how do others see us?
You say "Too many times I've been forced to be still." It's also possible that sometimes you have chosen to be still, because there may be little point in rocking a dangerously loaded boat.
There are two debilitating chips we can have on our shoulder: "I'm not good enough" and "I'm beyond reproach"... another "horse and tiger" argument.
But you've made it clear that finding a self-respecting middle ground has been your aim, a ground where you are clear about who is responsible for what. So this poem is a solid statement of this creed.
As evidenced by those of us amongst the big-mouths on the forum, doubtless myself among them, it's a goal we could all do well to aim more diligently for.
Warm regards as always
Mark.
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