This Poem was Submitted By: Terry L Krieg On Date: 2014-03-17 18:08:25 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Years

  After spending years many years  Making myself Being made by God and idiots Turning the corner under the same sun I sense the deceptive wall  Of time’s mirage of movement The struggle to connect the dots Leading inexorably back to the  Beginning yet again and again. Much laughter and a myriad of tears Hide behind the glinting glass Somehow there is no passage No passing no changing. The walls breathe, demanding  Touching the exact triggers molded A waterfall of years ago.  

Copyright © March 2014 Terry L Krieg


This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2014-04-02 15:48:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Terry - I think this piece has a lot of potential because the ideas you express are quite poignant. With that being said I know that I have appreciated extra eyes on any poem submission over the years here with TPL - it's what helps us to learn and grow in our writing endeavors. I'm not a pro but I've become a better writer through constructive criticism and helpful hints from some of the best here - After spending many years being a creation by God then idiots and turning corners under the same sun; I sense the deceptive wall of time’s mirage of movement struggles to connect the dots inexorably leading back to the beginning yet again and again. Laughter and a myriad of tears hidden behind glinting glass prevents passage nor changing. These walls breathe me in demanding to relive the identical triggers of tears that built from years ago. Of course I was playing with your poem, and trying to tweak and change a few things to make it more concise and add a more poetic flow to your original words - This is an outstanding powerfully emotional piece of having been hurt in life - and you would do justice to realize the talent you have to work with - blessings, Deni


This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2014-03-22 11:01:03
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Where does one begin and end. There is a theory in physics that says exactly what you are saying. That the movement of time is an illusion. That everything that can happen has happened and we are in this never ending loop. Your poem is a excellent representation of that very theory
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2014-03-17 22:17:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Don’t anyone tell you differently, this is a spectacular poem. The concept of being “made” whether by experience or God, is in and of itself conceptual. This is a spectacular poem, that should get a great exposure than you will get on this site. A pity, there was a time it would get twenty hits- but for me, “triggers molded” is a revelation in itself. really a breakout piece. wonderful.
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