This Poem was Submitted By: Rene L Bennett On Date: 2008-12-31 13:51:26 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Best of Friends

As my words I write are true I know I often cry for you Those who read the words I write I hope to meet someday in life For all they see are my tears Insecurities, inner fears They never see my morning smile Which I wear once in awhile Nor hear the sounds of my laugh gentle memories of the past Yes, those who read the words I pen Only know me from within They never see the side of me That I wish they could see So, if you read the words I write You're more than special in my life And as my pen flows today Know I send my love your way For you my friend, know me well My deepest secrets, you I tell As others only know my mask You see me through crystal glass My thoughts, my pain, my worldly trials And now I share with you, my smiles

Copyright © December 2008 Rene L Bennett

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2009-01-06 16:48:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Rene, Keep peeling, peeling, peeling. And you'll soon be pealing, pealing, pealing. MSS

This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2009-01-05 09:15:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.72222
Rene you have touched my heart with this beautiful poem.......it reads superb from start to finish and yes can see your morning smile and hear your laughter which fills the air.......Certainly going to make my list for the month.......keep smilling you look wonderful. God Bless and Happy New Year, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2009-01-01 22:50:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.76923
Hi Rene, Once again, you have managed to post an emotionally charged piece. You write from the heart which is essential to the success of any poet. I like your attempt to use rhyme and it is good to see that the rhymes dont seem to forced. You have a concept of slant rhyme and that again is a thumbs up ! The first 2 lines of v.2 did not seem to rhyme though..neither did the last 2 of v.3...imo You might consider looking closely at meter and syllable count to help smoothen the flow of some lines. Thank you for sharing your inner self with us. happy new year. Duane.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-12-31 16:06:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Rene, This is sweet. Truly the ones that read your words/thoughts, do know you differently than those that not. And the depths of your pain and trials are the heights of your smiles, so your rare smile must have wonderful depth. A sight to behold, I believe! I think your first 2 lines could be clearer......As my words I write are true ... I know I often cry for you maybe; The words I write are truth, know that I cry for you. you know me as no other......... I think with a bit of work this could be really good. It carries its own sweetness. Good job Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2008-12-31 14:22:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
As there is in our whole approach to life dichotomy, i.e., love/hate, life/death, awake/asleep, right/wrong, day/night, subconscious/conscious, ad infinitum, there is the sense of what we portray of ourselves in writing and in what we relax to in more personal contact. From both sides, from time to time, can be stirred yearnings for the more intimate contact that can come, ironically from one side to the other. What either side resists sharing with the other. Like an actor that will not bring the personal upon his stage of art. The greatest painters use a code, even in self-portraits, while the writer creates a fictional character only later to be interpreted as an autobiographical proxy...and then, amid the usual controversy. In your poem you reveal this longing to relax one side into the other, as if you would cross the stage into the audience, and into emotions more immediately returned. Under the great man theory of history, the great man is motivated by a desire to be loved. To become almost unrejectable. Elements of this lie in us all. They lie in the artist/writer as a form of longing to express privilaged communication that reaches all universally. Sublimated at best, as an attempt for all to win common ground and end such evils as war, it really is an impulse to become, again, simply, unrejectable. If either purpose is served, however, so is the other inevitably. These understandings establish the more universal meanings in your use of "you" and in your intentions to be more broadly understood. And in the ideal, Best of Friends, hangs still notice of the unreachable wholly spared the "mask" and where, perhaps these sides might truly converge. Would that you could...and you might, but with risk. JCH
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