This Poem was Submitted By: Edwin John Krizek On Date: 2004-10-03 12:50:43 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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From the center of the river I can only see the water. and the cool currents around me. What lies ahead is the ocean collecting the continuous flow of the world’s rivers. The Milky Way expands into the universe like a tributary into the sea. There are only atoms and the spaces between them. We possess consciousness, the greatest gift, yet we prattle away in our humdrumness. We think therefore we are. But we cannot understand the passion of our malaise.

Copyright © October 2004 Edwin John Krizek

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2004-10-24 15:21:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.29730
Edward, We don't appreciate our lives and consiousness. We think therefore we are but we aren't. we just think we are! Some people understand the passion of our malice. All the flowing.....growing....collecting....expanding....going......connect! Dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2004-10-17 18:20:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Edwin, the first thing that catches me about your verse is the paradox between stanza 1 and stanza 2. Of course rivers and oceans are a collection point for waters flowing in, whereas the milkyway and all galaxies are "flowing" out, the inverse of a collection point. Yet within your metaphor the business end is actually accentuated by this paradox, that there is a whole, and everything is flowing into it, or creating it's parameters. Then you narrow the entire creation to "consciousness", the defining point of mankind, and maybe the universe. In recent searches far too little free oxygen and other "life-bearing" compounds has been found, and although "odds" are against us being the sole representative of life, it is yet a possiblity that that nobility remains with Earth, and with man. Your point is well made, that to be conscious of this beauty, and not respond appropriately in the flow of our lives is well put as "humdrumness". Your conclusion, in light of your thesis, is absolutely stunning and correct, "we cannot understand, the passion of our malaise." And excellent piece of writing. It is on my voting list. Thank YOu.
This Poem was Critiqued By: TJ Daniels On Date: 2004-10-12 12:30:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Edward, >> yet we prattle away in our humdrumness. So true. We are not even a 'speck' yet we belive we are much more than we are. Daniel aka T. J. Daniels
This Poem was Critiqued By: Robert Wyma On Date: 2004-10-11 13:07:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
This poems feels somewhat fractal like for me. The spiral of evolution from micro to macro, each with its own turbulent eddies. I like the way you take the reader from centre stream to the emenseness of eternity and focus the finishing lines of the poem with the importance of our gifts, seldom put in context. The greater lies ahead on the winding spiral of evolution. Thanks for sharing a very thought provoking poem. Robert
This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-10-04 10:51:57
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
A passionate malaise, how interesting. This piece has good flow and some good metaphors which I'm always a sucker for. And it makes me wonder about the difference between consciousness and being conscious of my own consciousness and does that lead to or away from humdrumness, Away from I hope. Thanks for letting me read and comment.
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2004-10-03 23:49:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Dear Edwin, I can fully appreciate the message in this poem - it is mapped out within each verse and comprehendable to the reader. It's a great concept also, with so many amazing wonders in the world - how do we really define our "humdrumness" or "malaise?" This poem makes me stop and put thought into that - and although I don't have the answer I'll continue to try to broaden my horizon on the subject - because it's been brought to my attention in this amazing poem. There is nothing I would change in your poem. Sincerely, DeniMari
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