This Poem was Submitted By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2007-01-09 15:43:52 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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In The Storm

When you stand on a darkened hill beside an icy stream and dreams hover like bony birds hanging above bark-less trees with their quiet voice and stilled wing If dark edges of night flood wooded valleys and weeds then search the blackened room and gardens dead from frost If you look to the right and the left  but cannot roam to relief The tattersoll silence will listen to the sounds of grief you wear like capes of calamity and pain Reach for ragged edges of your soul and find yourself Be free from dark imagined shame And alive in your own audacity

Copyright © January 2007 marilyn terwilleger

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2007-01-28 15:18:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
Marilyn, there is the entire metaphor- and it contains both sides of the “clouds” if you will. Within the beauty you begin with a “darkened hill” and “bark-less trees”. The view puts the reader on edge, but you also tell us it’s us standing there “you”, so we need to find the perspective that would allow us such a view. In this piece dreams (by metaphor and/or presided circumstance) the dreams are not fulfilled, or at least less than expected “bony birds”/”bark-less trees” and their hold on us has depreciated “stilled wing”. One can find the life of standing by the stream (which is “icy”, certainly not containing the warmth of ease of life) but there is the need to look closer. One begins to wonder at the view, the respite as “night flood” “blackened room” “gardens dead” explain the nature of the storm. Also, create a knowledge of winter- and with winter we begin to seek the hints of spring- Should “tattersoll” be “tattersall”? It is the way I am reading it- a matrix of dark lines in silence. For the uninitiated- lost in the “capes of calamity” would be the story here. For the knowledgeable we are not surprised as “ragged edges of your soul” “find yourself” and the darkness is persuaded. And we walk in the triple metaphor to “free from dark”- “imagined shame”, and finally marvel at our own “audacity”. That audacity that not only found a way to survive the storm, the “darkness” within and without- but the audacity that such tenacity is possible in spite of it all. The human spirit, and the human condition. Well done.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mary J Coffman On Date: 2007-01-12 08:58:43
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Marilyn, This is magnificent! I love everything about this....the excellent use of figurative language and verbiasge, the imagery, the depth of thought, and the lesson at the end! Outstanding! Your beginning sets the scene so very well..."...a darkened hill beside an icy stream..." One can almost feel the dark cutting cold here. Then, "...dreams hover like bony birds...." Brilliant use of metaphor here. I love it! Wish I'd thought of that one!! This has to be my favoritem though... "The tattersoll silence ....(Loave "tattersoll" here...brilliant word choice) will listen to the sounds of grief you wear like capes of calamity and pain...." Goodness, girl, this is just so very telling, and sometimes sp true. Love the metaphor usage all thropugh this wonderful write! But, the last lines really speak volumes! " free from dark imagined shame, and alive in yout own audacity...." Wham! You said it!! Love the word "audacity" here. Really gives it that extra added punch. This goes on my list, to be sure! I love it, Marilyn!! A dozen roses at your feet! Warmest, Mary
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2007-01-11 06:02:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Interesting read and each one that reads this should find a different path to follow. It digs in deep and captivates your imagination and at the same time touches your soul. The hidden wonders you tend to worry about may lie about waiting to pounce upon you and yet in reality to face those hidden fears especially those questions associated with the loss of someone close to you or perhaps even your own death........very well done death I do not mean the ending of one's life but perhaps the ending of a chapter in one's life.............when we are children and we do things wrong and a parent punishes to correct us we are ashamed of our behavior yet being a child we do things again and again...knowing the punishment awaits us; as adults we often choose the wrong path and then we are our own worse enemies for those lessons learnt as children are still there to tell us in our own minds that we are wrong and should find a way to fix what we might have done.......we are always in a position to speak the truth no matter what the consequences are and to make things right not only for us but for those that we have touched......enough from me; I enjoyed this delicate piece. Thanks for posting, God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2007-01-10 19:07:44
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Narilyn, You've definitely moved on to a totally different type of writing. I've had to read this several times and yet each read brings my mind in a different direction. The words want to linger in my mind and resonate on the tonque with the depth of what they speak. You've really knocked my socs off with this one, perhaps you have the gift for looking into others minds and finding that which they choose to keep hidden. Two red roses at your feet and I bow in humility to your precious gift. Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2007-01-10 09:31:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
What a superb line!, Marilyn, "And alive in your own audacity". You have emboldened me to present a poem whose time has come and whose meaning will walk through mine fields. But now, that you've treated my own psyche with a visit so well, I dare. Poets can achieve symbiosis of a sort, can't they? Look for such a thing in the last line of my poem, WASP (which I wrote yesterday,) paralleled with your next to last line, "Be free from dark imagined shame". Now, when I'm assailed I can say, "Marilyn made me do it". Your creation of poetscape (don't know that poetic license extends to critiques, but what-the-hell, coining words and phrases is fun) has become your calling card, one that has alarmed me in the past with its direness sometimes, because you've become so developed at it. Since, however, here you depict a silence (tattersoll) and portray stillness throughout, you might change your title to something like, The Storm Within. And that's what you're really about here...but I'll keep quiet about that. I'm going to be in enough trouble with my next poem. JCH
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2007-01-10 00:26:54
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Marilyn, I can't envision you with dark imagined shame. I can imagine you with terrible dark, foreboding grief. Like what to do with your pain....let it work on through until one fine day the sun will come to stay! I know through my own experiences that joy will ring again for you. Winter is the time of going within and renewal. As flowers burst to Spring.... Hugs dear one, Dellena
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