G. Donald Cribbs's E-Mail Address: cribbsd@mhs-pa.org
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G. Donald Cribbs's Profile:
Writing poetry for me has always been about a response to the observations I make about life. Life began pretty tough. A lot of upheaval, a lot to face early. Fortunately, life is also about how we choose to deal with what we are dealt, and I have been very blessed on that side of things. I found a faith in God, who has helped me to overcome the things lacking in my childhood, my family, etc. And, with that, I have found a voice, a writing voice, the voice of a poet. I began writing in high school. A little at first, very cheesy poetry, I must admit. But there had to be substance to it, or else my crackpot teacher, Mr. Hansbarger, would never have encouraged me to continue, to keep writing, until I finally got past the dribble and actually wrote real gutsy poetry. Once that happened, and I showed it to him, he told me that I didn't need his critique to know if it was good, I knew it for myself. I wrote for the literary magazine and won local, regional and state contests. I was published. I entered national contests and received attention from the head of the English Dept. at Princeton. I placed in the top 20 out of over 5500 submissions. They wanted me to apply and go there as a student. I come from a lower low middle class home, raised by a single mom--we were broke. I worked through high school to pay the rent. So, there was no Princeton. Lucky for me, though, or I never would have met my beautiful and incredible wife of four years, Heather. We've been together for a decade. Now, we have a 2 1/2 year old son, Timothy, and are working on number two. Some of my poetry is about that. Eventually, I'll post it here. I met my wife at college. We went to Messiah College in Grantham, PA. Central Pennsylvania. Small Christian Liberal Arts School. A good education, and we were the first in our families to attend and graduate college. I got a BA in English and Education with a minor in Theater and an unofficial Bible Minor (hey, they don't count Bible Greek, go figure!). We both spent a year in China teaching English as a Second Language to college students over there. I also went back for a summer. Then we had enough of being on the opposite sides of the earth (2 1/2 years...) and we got engaged and married. Now we are houseparents at the Milton Hershey School. We are a K-12 residential school for underprivileged children, built on the chocolate bar legacy of Milton and Catherine Hershey, who couldn't have children, and who took care of orphaned boys (girls were taken in by someone) and helped them rise above their disadvantages. Six billion dollars later, the school lives on as a legacy to their love and to their beneficiaries, the students. We live our job, we give up a lot, but we love it. If you're interested in this, just email me for more details. In college, I read Robert Bly, Mary Oliver (I went to a poetry reading of hers, and got two books autographed including her Pulitzer!), James Wright, Rainer Maria Rilke (German poet who wrote Letters to a Young Poet), Jelaluddin Rumi (12th century Sufi Poet), Julia Kasdorf (a professor of mine), Lorca, Jiminez, Neruda, and all the typical textbook poets. I am currently applying to graduate school (have been rejected by one thus far) to begin a Masters Degree in Fine Arts--Poetry. No, I don't plan on being turned into a drone, a copy of other poets, but I do hope to grow as a writer, reach levels I can't reach by self teaching, by which most of us grow. I think this website will be a good step in the direction of preparation, getting ready to move farther, say more, get my voice perfected, and push on towards my two goals: 1. Significance. To have something to say and to say it clearly and to the best of my ability to the world, in a way that changes the world for the better. 2. The Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. I know, shooting for the moon, you say? Well, if I don't aim high, I'll only reach low. So, I'm aiming high and seeking to become a true poet along the way. The Pulitzer is a prize, don't get me wrong, but it's not really about that...it's about the recognition and acceptance by other poets in the field, my peers, telling me that yes, indeed, I am a poet, and one who has impacted the voice, the shape of what poets do, spoke to the masses, and they heard me out. Well, that's enough rambling. If you want to know more, critique my poetry, read it, say something about it, spur me on to become better, or write me a friggin email why don't you? Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope my critiques of your poetry helps. I know they help me. Warm Regards, Don

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Displaying Critiques 51 to 70 out of 70 Total Critiques.
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Poem TitlePoet NameCritique Given by G. Donald CribbsCritique Date
DemonMark Andrew HislopMark, Flirting with what is considered evil, dangerous or reckless is certainly a risky business. Here you go back and forth between asking God to help you struggle with these feelings (or the main character if this isn't a personal account)of temptation, and deciding to take the plunge, the bait, the hook line and sinker. I'm not sure the repetitive phrases work for me. (Geez that sounded too American Idolesque!) I'm not feelin it dawg! Heh heh... guess you had to be there... perhaps not so many in such a short space of stanzas. try keeping only those that are critical, and see if you can edit the rest, or rewrite in those places? If I'm wrong here, obviously, take what you like and what is helpful and leave the rest. An interesting topic to reflect upon here with this poem. As a reader I want you to go further, go farther along the thesis here and carry it out to the end, see where else this goes. Is there more than the enticement, the temptation, the helpless begging God to help you out? I think there's more here...if you keep digging, you might find gold. This is a great start to a great poem. I'd like to see where it goes from here. Hope this helps! Regards, Don2004-04-30 22:30:38
Instructions for My BurialJoanne M UppendahlJoanne, I only got the privilege of reading this one after searching for all poems. Too many people critiqued this one before I got to see it on the list. I absolutely LOVE this one! It's terribly witty, pokes fun at death and does it without being insulting, rather, you're entirely endearing with this one. Wow, wow, wow!!! You go, girl! I am so glad I came here today so I could read this and remember to take life a little less serious (at times) and to stop and smell the pinecones. Thank you so much for sharing this one with us. Warm regards, Don2004-04-30 17:52:54
Blue Dragonfly - RevisitedJoanne M UppendahlDear Joanne, I like this minor edit. It works well. I'd keep your corrections moving forward. A few things I have failed to mention in the last critique. I noticed a very steady metered beat in the words of the poem, line by line bobs like the dragonfly itself. A very excellent element that unifies and ties this whole poem together for me. Sorry I failed to mention it before. A question for you. I'm not sure I get the last line gramatically. Do you really mean to say splendor hunger? As in my splendor hunger? I want to read it as "splendid hunger," "my splendid hunger." So, perhaps there's something I'm reading wrong here? Can you please clarify that? I don't want to miss out on this ending to such a fine poem. Really, I appreciate your sharing both versions with us and I'm better to have read it. Regards, Don2004-04-30 00:30:26
Blue DragonflyJoanne M UppendahlJoanne, I love this lighthearted poem. It's very Mary Oliveresque. If you haven't read her, go out right now and get her pulitzer book! She is an observer as you are in this one. She goes on walks and writes amazingly powerful poems observing the things alive around her, and with them she leaps forward into a spiritual place and blows the reader away. She would be a good poet for you to read. I love "sleight toss of your head," you don't think of a dragonfly tossing its head. Wonderful. Yes, you start to get to the spiritual with this next line, were you placed here.... that's where you need to go here. I also like the hope of it staying longer, the fascination of brushing against something that could change you forever. You may have a couple of typos with "flickeringings" and "splendor." Do you mean "flickerings" and "splendid" hunger? Otherwise, a delightful read ,thanks! Regards, Don2004-04-28 21:38:40
ABC's of LifeMick FraserDear Mick, Please know that I have a great deal of respect for you for several reasons. 1) you are a poet and you are writing and posting poems to share with others. 2) you take constructive criticism very well. 3) because you take criticism well, you will learn a lot and grow tremendously as a poet. Please keep that in mind if I'm too blunt in my critiques. I'm all about getting down to business and leaving the interpretation up to you. Take what is helpful and leave the rest. That's what my mom says. Okay, so I get the whole Streetcar references here. Is Blanche your main character of inference? I liked the Brando (as if stanley kuwalkski was simply an actor playing a part) and Stella (stella for star!) reference at the end. Very nicely done. Yeah, it was a bit prosey. I think the trick to using prosey poetry effectively, is to write the lines in a way that the reader has to do the work of interpreting meaning. Just make sure you don't spell it out too much for us, let us arrive at the ending ourselves. Some great voice and tension and mood here. I liked this one. Your details are great and very fine tuned. I would suggest going with one or the other on the first line, second stanza: either father and mother or dad and mom, not one of each. Otherwise, a good poem, and thank you for sharing it with us! Warm regards (looking forward to more of your poems!) Don2004-04-27 11:58:57
How not to have youMark Andrew HislopMark, A fine poem here. I enjoyed this one more than "Gone." I think you get a bit deeper here. There's more going on in your layers of meaning and it's more thoroughly complete. Very good work. I really enjoyed the sense of the main character here. I felt the voice and persona throughout the poem. Wonderful! In response to your feedback, I'd like to offer a simple example of a technique you can use when writing and/or revising a poem. Begin with an idea in the center of a page. Set an egg timer or microwave/oven timer and give yourself 3 to 5 minutes to do this exercise. Once you begin, write absolutely everything that pops in your mind down immediately somewhere on the paper. Don't try to make sense. Don't think too much about where it all goes. Just trust your instincts to write it down and then circle each word as you write it, and connect it (don't think too much) to some other word. Do this until you fill the page or go on the back. Go until the timer stops. Your page should look like a bizarre spiderweb of sorts. When the timer dings, go back to whatever word sticks out to you, that kinda gave you a shot of electricity as you wrote it. It may or may not have anything to do with the first word. Don't worry about that. Now, begin by circling the word over and over again, until a line of poetry using this word begins to formulate in your head. If you're not sure how to get this going, look at the words connected to this one, look at the words around this word. Then, write your first line and go from there. This process basically helps you to learn how to tap into your subconscious or unconscious mind. That's where the really meaty poetry is. Go there and visit, find your voice there, and keep writing. Let me know how this goes for you. I hope it helps. If not, let me know and I'll give you another technique to try. Warm regards, and keep writing and sharing your poetry here. Great job on this one, man. Don2004-04-25 22:41:16
Learning to FlyMick FraserMick, This one is a good start, a better effort I would say than the one about the whiskey drinking cat. You've got some good work going on here, aliteration is your friend, keep it. I'd cut out every unimportant word when you do a revision (example: change this "My hands are whirligigs spinning wildly on a windy day" to this "My hands whirligigs spinning wildly on a windy day" and try this: "my spirits lifted--I am learning to fly." The idea is to create beats, like meter and rhyme without the meter and rhyme. Free verse is free, but there are ways to provide poetical structure that flesh it out, give it a pulse and make it bleed on the page for the reader.) I have a personal pet peeve with poems that use the title to give away the leap of the last line. You might consider finding some other aspect to bring out about the poem, the persona you created by the woman in the picture instead. Suggestion: "The threat that hangs on me like a wet shirt on a humid day" to The threat hangs on me, a wet shirt on a humid day" I'd like to see a revision of this one when you get a chance to post it here. I hope this helps. My intention here is to offer advice, not discourage you. Please keep writing and putting it out there. Warm regards, Don2004-04-25 22:28:35
Creature ComfortsMick FraserMick, I see that you're a student poet, taking workshop. You've got a good start here, something on paper. You have begun to articulate it in a way that will eventually lead you to "good poetry." You've got a few layers of meaning going on through your poems. A light, simple language, not heavy with imagery, not particularly memorable as a poetic voice different from the masses, but something. What I suggest for you is that you continue to write and you read other poets. Reading is the first step if you're not already doing it. Read who you like and find who you like and read everything by them. For example, I read Robert Bly, James Wright, Rainer Maria Rilke, Mary Oliver and Rumi. Try those or others you like and see what it is about their poems that you like. Then, write poems as you are influenced by them. This will help you start to find your voice. As for this poem, I would say the title is trite, cliche. The content is repetitive, unmemorable, and it doesn't say much that hasn't been said in a new way before. What is the purpose of a poem? What is its job? Answer that, and then look again at this poem and see if you can find a few things to add or change. Please do keep posting and sharing your poems. Remember, it is a process. I've got poems I wrote once and never revised. I've got other poems I've revised literally hundreds of times over a period of over 15 years and I've only just been satisfied with them. So, keep writing and reading, and you will find what you are looking for. I hope this has helped. Warm regards, Don2004-04-25 22:17:43
GoneMark Andrew HislopMark, I like the melancholic mood of this piece, the vivid and picturesque imagery here. You've got a unique voice and flow. I haven't seen you on the Link until just now, so, nice to meet you through your writing. I'd like to see where else you might go with this. Do you intend to keep it simple and on the levels you're writing? Or, do you want to go deeper here? What else is going on here? I get the feeling (forgive me if I'm reading too much into this) that there's something else, some other place you were trying to get to with this one, but you relied instead on the mood and the visual imagery instead of going deeper. I'd like to challenge you to see if there's more there. Go for it, and share it with us if you do a revision. Thanks again for sharing your poem with us. I enjoyed it. Warm regards, Don2004-04-18 22:51:09
Haiku:GloryValene L JohnsonDear Valene, I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your sharing this lovely haiku with us. I love how you use a different sense to personify the light (something you see) with whisper (something you hear very close and intimately). I presume you meant "strike" instead of "stike"? If so, you continue this theme with striking heart (touch) with the trumpets blaring (sound). I see the allusion to the rapture as well, the trumpet call for us to turn and come to our Lord. Yes, it is His love that won victory over death and will call us at that last trumpet call to see Him in His Glory, a deeper meaning with the title. Simply lovely, and a wonderful true statement of faith. Thanks for sharing this one with us. Warm regards, Don2004-04-18 22:30:41
An Atheistic Affermation of FaithPaul R LindenmeyerPaul, I didn't see the other version of this, but I think you've got something here worth working at. One of my better poems took hundreds (yes, literally!) of revisions and nearly a decade to perfect. The good ones are worth the time and patience to reach for the "aha" moment we are all looking for. Not sure if you're quite there yet, but this format works, the title is intriguing and the words work for me. I'd like to see you find a way to seperate the final word "void" where the whole piece rests. It's a bit crammed in with this draft under the 's' from 'others'. It also seems you're stopping short with the idea. Are you simply saying that you'll go ahead and live your life the way you want and then at the last minute call out to God for salvation (because you know you should but you don't want the authority?)...perhaps I'm reading too much into it. Something to think about. If possible, work towards completing the thought for the reader, or put it out there a bit more before dropping it all on 'void.' Regards, Don2004-04-18 09:17:25
"I Don't Know"DeniMari Z.Dear DeniMari, This is the first I've read of you, so perhaps it's not a true picture of what you can do poetically, but I must say I quite admire your determination to force your hand to the page and overcome that writer's stymie of thought! Good for you. This poem, while at first glance seems simple, is quite a gem in the making. Perhaps there's something here to keep going with until it's something much more. I like the idea of "painting" with color to show the mood and feel that emotions provide. Although, I think a steely grey might lobby for position as the "I don't know" color, perhaps you've already got that one used as sadness, melancholy or some such. I love how you aliterate "that blank/blinkless/stare," simply marvelous! Some suggestions: after "every emotion/I feel,/-" I would remove the comma and just go with the hyphen, but move it up to end the "I feel" line. Likewise, with "you know,/but you don't." I would suggest a different form of punctuation than the comma. It just doesn't sit quite right for me. Everyone has their own preference, I guess. Go with what feels right for you, just take another look at that one for me. Finally, I would suggest you consider your ampersand. How much are you loving it where it's at? If you can live with a change to the "and" alternative, then go with that. Thanks for hearing out my thoughts on the subject. Hope you get over your block soon. I think you already have! Thanks for sharing your process as well as your triumphs here on the Link. Warm regards, Don 2004-04-15 22:08:23
Can I Be Jewish Too?Paul R LindenmeyerPaul, I liked the message of this poem, understanding a complexity that Paul often expounds upon in the New Testament, that Jesus is both Jewish (ethnically and spiritually) and brings in the new order of Christianity. So far, only Messianic Jewish believers fully grasp both the cultural and spiritual elements that are intended to be understood by us all. I have a Jewish New Testament, which includes things like the woman who grabs Jesus's robes and is bleeding badly, and his power goes out from him and she is healed. In the Jewish New Testament, she grabs onto his tzitzit, the four corners of his garments which have the special knots that spell out the name of the Lord in Hebrew. So, literally, she grabbed onto the name of the Lord. What a more vivid picture than what is seen in the whitewashed version of the New Testament that we have. All of those cultural elements are removed and renamed so we can "understand" it. I like how you laid this out with the short and long lines. It provides a nice tension felt through each short stanza. Including the correct terms allows the reader to feel the crisis as you feel it. That's very effective, well done. I love the reference to Peter who denied him three times. It makes me think of when he visits Peter in his resurrected state, and three times asks him to "feed his sheep," meaning the church. There's a strong message with this one. I can't recommend any changes for you. I think the point is made aptly, and it works well as you have it. Thanks for sharing this one with us. Warm regards, Don2004-04-15 20:56:07
Talking About It with My DadThomas Edward WrightThomas, You've got an amazing gift as a writer. You're voice is well developed, casual, a man at a barstool (how appropriate!). I enjoy how you take these elements and bring them together "as if by accident," but filled with the intention and power of a seasoned poet. Wow. Stunning. A great job here of winding us through the experience, perceiving the scenario through your boyhood eyes, bonding with dad over the beatles and his work (a nice touch to show how he lets you into his world, his work), and this other work of life: facing death and trying to get our heads around it. Pow. You hit us with the power of this ending. I very much liked it. Don't change a thing. I loved the journey: look over here, then over there, then back over here, then BAM!! What I'm talking about here is DEATH! Luckily, you wrote it, and we've got a much better read than what I just wrote here, yapping about it. A wondeful read. Loved the poem. Keep 'em coming. Regards, Don2004-04-14 07:23:30
What Old Men Struggle with at Times Like ThisThomas Edward WrightThomas, I get the sense you're intoxicated while musing about the holidays here. Not a bad thing, I might add, but it's rather revealing overall. I was quite amused by the whole, "what about the chocolate bunnies? They're friggin' people too!" sentiment. Quite a unique and different approach here which I enjoyed immensely. I'm guessing you're not one to go be first in line to see Gibson's movie, eh? Well, I think, all the same, you're still getting the gist of this holy day anyway, no matter what you're thinking about while rabbits get jiggy wit it in your back yard. Hey, at least you've got the free entertainment...don't think you're TV's doing much of that with all that blood. Regards, Don2004-04-13 22:09:40
White, Fallow WorldsC ArrownutYou've got a great start here. I like the direction this one is going in. You're right, it needs some work, but it's good, and worth revising until you get the 'aha' moment you're looking for. Only you can determine what that is, however. I would suggest a revision and an addition. I have inserted a few ideas throughout by copying the poem below and using brackets to show additions and deletions. I hope you can follow them, hope they're not unclear. Take them or leave them, I just went with a direction I might go with this one. Now, onto the deeper subject here. I like what you're touching on here, the fact that we all live right nearby, but we're content to be isolated, except when nature throws us something which forces us out of the shell. Okay, so go with that. I think you might have stopped short here. (So, maybe adding a stanza, or a few lines here and there?) We've all felt this before, but how can YOU say it better? What can you say about this that will make us all go, "wow, gee, I have thought about this before, but I haven't thought about THAT exactly...hmmm." That's the 'aha,' the leap, etc. Maybe brainstorm or cluster until you pull something out of your subconscious to get this one a level deeper. An excellent start, though, so keep fighting the good fight. I want to see this one finished! Once you do, please post it again and let me know. Hope this critique is more helpful than not. Thanks for sharing it with us. I've including my notes below. Warm Regards, Don _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Last night[,] beyond the control of science[,]the blizzard. At dawn, outside my townhouse, my haven[,] snow [adrift] to five feet. Massive mounds covered[ing] cars, all glistened[ing] in the glare and angels of white linked all. [add space] Come afternoon, the whole neighborhood [out] shoveling together, piled flakes[new word here] ten feet high on three sides of each car rebuilt[delete space] the impenetrable walls [move this, lengthen line to same as above]between us. [add space] Seldom able to connect, islands circling the sun fated to twirl from conception through eternity. We only bond for fleeting moments, even then we recreate our white, fallow worlds. 2004-04-13 13:12:38
Elena,her Ninja,and ChernobylMichael BirdMichael, I can definitely see what you mean by being a hopeless romantic. Heh heh, it comes through loud and clear in this poem. As loud as Elena's motorcycle. Elena is an interesting character. She makes the reader of your poem want to know more about her. As you revise this poem, I suggest you begin by going through the poem and working on painting a very sharp and clear picture of her. I would go back and make sure that each time you refer to Elena, you reveal something new about her. So me mannerisms, characterization, personality, quirks or ticks (things people do without realizing--scratching her ear, rubbing her eyes, fixing her lipstick, etc.) Once you have a good solid revision of Elena, the rest of the poem will flow nicely into the deeper and more profound focus, which is Chernobyl. Along that road, you'll also touch on the Ninja, but that goes without saying. The ending of this poem was the most profound for me. So, I would suggest that you work towards the power of this ending, so that you have the most "punch" for both the characterization of Elena and the weight of those who were lost by what happened in Chernobyl. Another suggestion I have for you is to create and revise the metaphors you've used in a few places. For example, "faster than a speeding bullet," and "like a bat out of hell," should be revised into something that is not a cliche (which these are) and to something that helps the reader understand your meaning even better, or develops your Elena character better, or that puts more weight and substance behind the powerful ending. A very unique and special poem. Thank you for sharing this with us, Michael. I hope you'll consider sharing other poems here as well. You've got a very unique voice and talent for bringing things together. A great effort, my friend. Warm Regards, Don2004-04-13 12:46:54
with a tranquil passion burningzen sutherlandZen, You are a true poet. A poet is one who carefully observes things around himself/herself (sorry, no bio, no idea whether you're male or female! ;) and then uses the tools of poetry, like carefully crafted imagery and shows the reader exactly what he/she observed. You've done that here. A marvelous poem to read and peel back layers... "until I notice an unfolding/like a flower or a soul expanding," is an excellent example of such a carefully crafted image. How well you describe the moment someone awakes, stirs, or moves in sleep. You convey anticipation, passion (of course) and a special connection with the sleeping person. "and I see sheer delicate lines/the same way spider webs are lit/by summers backlight--/the lines of the universe," is exquisite and astounding. You tie sheer with spider webs, and then the invisible yet tangible lines which connect us and bond us together. Breathtaking! Make sure you correct your punctuation on "by summer's backlight," not "summers backlight." The same with "mother's" not "mothers" in the next stanza. Watch your possessives. I love how you peel this back by a reflection or flashback in your mind to show how a mother's love is similar...there's that connection there, even when she's not around. I see what you're getting at here: that connection felt (the tranquil passion burning) from someone so profoundly that whether they're sleeping before you, or you are far away, you still feel the tug of the cords of connectedness (I am guessing this is something spiritual, or at least something beyond the physical) with that person. A beautifully done picture. Thank you for sharing this one with us. Hope to see more from you on the link! Regards, Don2004-04-13 12:27:47
Night MovesLynda G SmithLynda, Wow, you throw a one two punch here, literally! The way you lay out the stanzas looks very much like two clenched fists (which you carefully wait to reveal at the end) and the puff of clouds above (which you allude to in the first stanza). Very nicely done! You pack each line with such weight by jamming in as much action and force with your words. Does night "shoot" light? The personification of night is so strong throughout. Night gets so involved in what is said directly (the description of night and nature) and indirectly (the fighting and quarreling taking place below) that is ends up beaten up and bruised in the crossfire. Wow. This creates a powerful picture of a woman standing on her front porch, feeling the truth in a moment of pain after a fight, gasping for air, searching for meaning behind it all. I love how you allude to the process a cloud has (being charged) to the point of rain or storm. This is paralleled by the main subject of the poem, perhaps the person standing out on the front porch? "Trick of mind" hints at "trickle" or the morning dew. As if the storm disipated into the frosting of the grass and flowers, but failed to burst fully into a thunderstorm. The pulse here is truly entwined in the other fight referenced here but doesn't completely tell what happened in the fight itself. And, I don't think your intention was to go beyond what you say here. What you say in two stanzas is what you sensed when standing on the porch. That's why the poem was written. The curious side of me wants to know more, but what you have here is a treat. Thank you for sharing this with us! I enjoyed reading it and thinking about it. Warm regards, Don2004-04-13 08:15:25
Passion's PardonAndrea M. TaylorThis haiku is such a picture to me. I admit I'm influenced by the word "passion" in the title...nowadays I'm seeing that as an allusion to Gibson's "Passion of the Christ." If you've seen the movie, you'll get this more deeply, and so as not to give away a plot point, I'll be purposely vague: There is a scene which is in flashback, referencing the woman who was about to be stoned and Jesus bent down and wrote in the dirt. No one knows what he wrote, but it led the people to drop their stones and not stone the woman. Jesus said, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." To the woman, he said, "Woman, has no one condemned you this day? Then neither do I condemn you." I hope I am not presuming to think this is the correlation and parallel you wish the reader to make? The tension in the word "outstretched" is in seeing beyond an invitation for a hug or embrace, but seeing Christ on the cross, crucified, arm pulled out of socket. Now, that's love. "Beyond humanity" correlates to the conquering of sin and death as Jesus spent the days he was dead in hell, defeating his enemies (Satan, Death, Sin). The last line holds a lot of weight for me. Yes, he saved us all, he took all our sin, even the sins of those who did not and will not accept his free gift of salvation. The aliteration is nice here, the 's' sound is appropriate, smacks of satan, sin, salvation, seeking, and all the words which are magnetically linked to the few words you use here. Very profound. Thank you for sharing it with us. Warm regards, Don2004-04-11 22:42:24
Poem TitlePoet NameCritique Given by G. Donald CribbsCritique Date

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