This Poem was Submitted By: James C. Horak On Date: 2006-01-01 04:40:58 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The New Year of New Meanings

Dry as a tender box, ground parched like Towers bathed in flaming oil.     (You know, the ashes aftermath of planes right on target.) And small talk, attempting to distill terror...the real kind....      Not the planted fears of those that would (otherwise) prescribe                               Medicine before disease. One can understand the almost house-to-house...for fireworks      And droning media chants, just as servile to apprehension.                                            Fire burns, does not war? The bride wants a gown, freedom no less, some expression of it's                                                                free.                    Blanket apprehension just won't do. Or terrorism....not that of devout goat-herders, but corporate take-overs,      Betrayers of public oath, and those that create their own infernos...                  To enslave us all within a Patriot Act.

Copyright © January 2006 James C. Horak

Additional Notes:
We are in a winter drought here in Texas. People are threatened by the authorities with stiff fines and confiscation of fireworks for the traditional display. Perhaps justified, it still hearkens something ominous about the times. Thought I might use up my last two credits since Chris has not entirely banished me...or so it seems.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2006-01-11 18:42:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Mr. Horak: This will be brief and I know you understand. Just as you understand a small portion of my being is likely more traditional than yours. For example, your format (or lack of one) drives me up a hill, over a hill, the latter where I live. A reader sees title, pauses, sounds good but heavenly daze, the words are roaming all over the page, some leaping and playful, others in tete'-a-tete' exchange. How free-spirited and unrestrained! I had just finished my first poem in a long time about...winter drought. "Dry as a (tinder) box, ground parched like Towers (9-11) bathed in flaming oil. (You know, the ashes aftermath of planes right on target.) And small talk, attempting to distill terror...the real kind..." Great first stanza! There is the comparison of the arid dilemma we are facing to the flaming towers. Your 2nd sentence is scary...very scary. Poet segues to terror, distilled variety or the real kind, not "planted fears". This is so important and the government or a portion therein do nothing but plant fears, tend them, water them, ad nauseum. I am so paranoid of Big Brother and his subliminal messages constantly served us like pap or baby food. Otherwise, the American people are just plain stupid. You continue with three more stanzas of house searches for fireworks and you deftly bounce "devout goatherders" against "corporate take-overs". It is not a humorous situation but your word play gave readers a chance to breathe! (And me to laugh.) Not a good crit, I'm sure, and your poem deserves better than this. But I wanted to say hello and comment on your accomplishment herein. A quite important poem, IMO, and I do not say this lightly. Keep up the valuable writings. Mell Morris

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas H. Smihula On Date: 2006-01-09 09:09:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.66667
You have presented your feeling well in this and make the reader focus on the subject matter making them realize there is so much to the terror we see today. What about the courts neglecting the needs of a child putting them into harms way by placing them with unstable individuals? What about people that claim they are of gods way only commiting sin after sin asking for forgiveness yet they continue their ways? What about those that have no understanding of a situation yet they say they speak for all? These are the thoughts you made this reader think about. I like your presentation and your thought presented. Well done.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2006-01-05 06:31:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Poet.......Hardly voice my thoughts these days but when something moves me or touches my most inner feelings and emotions well..........this one says it all and says it quite nicely.......good structure, word flow, images and emotions created as one travels down the can see the planes still as they crashed into the twin towers that horrible day when life seemed to stop and fear intensified within our hearts.......the smell of oil probably still filters through the air not only there but everywhere such things happen over and over again......You speak of fireworks and house to house searches......we are not allowed to buy nor have fireworks but some cross over the line to purchase them thus they would probably end up in jail if caught.......who makes the rules, regulations and whatever else it takes to hold us prisoner in a free country? Thanks for posting and I am sure Chris would not kick you out ........take care, God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2006-01-03 07:18:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
JCH What a relief to find something from you here. It's like being given a free pass to an oxygen bar. I've been getting all frisky and au fait with metre lately, more than ever before. The immediate result is an appreciation of the fine adherence to and variation of metre you employ here, all of which is clearly too 'regular' to be accidental. My favourite (your best?) lines, for their metrical structure, are the first and the last (the last by a smidgeon) ... phyrric-trochee-trochee-trochee-trochee-spondee (correct me if I'm wrong) ... metre is very subtle both here as it is throughout and is a credit to you. The only apparent defect that grabs my attention is "tender box" ... I imagine you mean "tinder box". There is an interesting image also in the first line of there being something parched which is also bathed, but I am giving the image a kind of oxymoronic benefit of the doubt. Overall, though (as if this has any relevance) I find myself thinking "Yeah, I'm with you" in terms of the message. In sum, it's a display of fine touch and elegance. Now for fuck's sake, stay around. MAH
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2006-01-01 18:56:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
James, Come back! It's so GREAT to hear your freshly appropo poetry. If I must I'll keep you in credits. You speak of everything I would wish to say. But you hammer it down like no other. I like: Not the planted fears of those that would (otherwise) prescribe Medicine before disease. I like 'planted', that says it all.... The medicine even for disease is a joke! I'm sick of Bush's terror agenda to scare us into letting him lead us. I would follow him nowhere, no matter what. He himself is the worst terror we have as a nation. We are undivided because of him. our 4th ammendment[rights]: The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized. You're right, Blanket apprehension of freeness just won't do. Keep them coming, I'm listening. Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2006-01-01 10:40:46
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Jeez James. Chris would never banish you. You, let's face it, did annoy some in the past. But so what? They have thin skins. But then I ask you...was it all necessary? And I say that with all humility. I have always been the ranter and a lot of times the odd man out. However, maybe that's the reason I have been having so many physical problems lately. I must learn to temper my thoughts yet not hold them in. It's a fine balance. Why am I telling you all this? Maybe so others may learn. So that I may learn for myself. So that I am my own worst enemy...yadayada ad infinitum. BTW: Is not tender box supposed to be tinder box? I just looked it up, and yes I am right. Anyway, your voice lends credence to the ills of what goes on. The lessening of fireworks is necessary. And why not? Take care of yourself. Glad to hear you still have a voice left. HNYear to you and family.
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