This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2009-02-06 17:15:31 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Summer evening

The brim-filled cup of the mind  ripples under a distant tone, and swells an evening. Time, steady, trickles and so a universe expands. Forgotten, hidden, concentrated into a pinprick, I cannot be more alone or more at ease, the balance struck like a bust of awe. The mind, still  within itself, watches as if perfect unflinching rest may establish eternity.
Copyright © February 2009 Mark Andrew Hislop

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2009-03-01 17:21:52
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.83333
Mark, I think that the mind's not resting as much as at ease with itself. No worry, no discomfort, ....granted we're alone here inside dripping out thought and ideas. Perfectly, yes. Glad yours is steeping along. Hope your fine. Good to experience your mind. Dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2009-02-21 21:48:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
Hi Mark, Good to see a post from you after eons. I hope this means that you are going to be around longer and share your talent and offer feedback. It was a thrill to read. 'summer evening'...rich in imagery and strong in construction. Duane.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rene L Bennett On Date: 2009-02-19 07:41:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mark, I'm not to sure what you are writing about here (probably just me, I tend to do that a lot) What I did gather from your poem is a struggle between loneliness and balance within yourself and you achieve more than just balance but peace at the end. Either way, I love your imagery. Always, Rene'
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2009-02-07 13:45:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
I had ended a movie review I wrote comparing two films with this passage, "The mind contains its own perfection, perhaps even its own universe. How one might resolve the loose threads remorse leaves tangled around our memories, and how we might sort them out into resolutions more remedial to our health, even that in preparation for death, just might be more encompassing than readily imagined." Only written a scant few days ago, this seems an interesting coincidence, don't you think? Yes, and your summer is my winter. And hope you've returned for good. Your friends have missed you, even with your tender sensibilities all aflamed. JCH
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