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This Poem was Submitted By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2004-10-22 14:52:09 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Door

I walled off the door to my heart when you perished in October's moon I did not slam the door but softly Pulled it shut at days crimson end. Cold blows the winter wind and warmth no longer caresses me Dusty and dim days pass but yet I linger beside the door, with quiet grace and outlandish sorrow

This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2004-10-30 02:04:35
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.32258
Dear Marilyn, This is such a sad poem. The loss is immensely felt through each line. The ending line is what brings tears to my eyes, outlandish sorrow. No one should ever have to feel such a hurt, yet we all have to at one time or another. I can feel that this was the greatest love of your life. You must have so many memories, yet those are not enough because "warmth no longer caresses you", your pain is valid, your heart still heavy from the loss. I can relate to this piece - because I'm feeling outlandish sorrow right now. A three year relationship I was in just ended this week, and I am trying to pull it all together. It's hard, so many emotions to feel. Anger, frustration, hurting, sorrow, loneliness - I could go on and on but I know you know what I mean. This poem was a wonderful read, even tho it touches on such a heartbreaking fact of life. Good luck. Sincerely, DeniMari

This Poem was Critiqued By: Rick Barnes On Date: 2004-10-28 03:24:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
M., See! Same vision, different vista. Such craft! Rick

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2004-10-25 10:53:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Very nice mt. my only criticism is in the line: "and warmth no onlger caresses me" seems like too many syllables. otherwise, I really love it. especially like the line breaks, you chose to enjamb in good spots. works well. kudos. tw

This Poem was Critiqued By: charles r pitts On Date: 2004-10-25 04:45:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.52381
This poem evokes the kind of sadness that only can only come with the loss of a loved one, either a child or a spouse. Whatever the case, this loss changes your life. This loss not only took a piece of you with it, it killed another piece that it left behind. Your ability to love has been crippled. The pain is so great that, rather than feel that again, you lock it away deep inside. Comfortless now, you find yourself returning to that door you reluctantly shut so softly, returning to the place where true joy once lived. How wonderfully expressive this is, you've really captured the finality, the sorrow, and the feeling of endlessness death brings. ------------------and warmth no longer caresses me ------------------ there is such longing and loss in this line. I linger beside the door, with quiet grace and outlandish sorrow--------------Though dying inside, the personal "quiet grace" of mourning this really made me think of my own mortality--very nice.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Turner Lee Williams On Date: 2004-10-23 13:52:50
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.63158
Marilyn–I will apologize up front for the perusal of such a personal post, but IMO, verbiage of this nature merit review/critique as well as wider readership. What a stupendous lament for a loved one: this reads almost like an anthem (no sacrilege intended). Also, an excellent title to head your subsequent metaphoric elegy. A number of fellow TPLers have expressed the loss of loved one(s) through this medium and done so respectively, soberly, lovingly, artistically, and genuinely. Notwithstanding, this poem include all afore-mentioned superlatives plus exceptional imagination (hyperbole) which has been skillfully scribed most poetically. Thanks for providing an effort which could easily serve as a pertinent cathartic/bereavement tool. TLW

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jennifer j Hill On Date: 2004-10-23 11:59:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.55556
Dear Marilyn, My thoughts and prayers are for you as this aniversary of your husbands passing is once again revisited. Thank you for this poignant piece. The profound sadness of your words brings tears to my eyes, yet I feel the hope in your words too. The fact that you "linger beside the door with quiet grace and outlandish sorrow" tells me you will never stop grieving or hoping until you too step through the door. Hope, in such profound loss, is the gift you give the reader. Thanks for sharing that. Blessings, Jennifer

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2004-10-22 17:24:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.23529
Marilyn, You've lost a loved one. You express your grief very well. I am so sorry for your pain. Hopefully time will help you bear it. When you love someone, there will arrive the day you will part. That is so sad. The only consolation is that they're really not gone. They live in your heart, in your memories, in your soul. You can feel them in the stillness, in the night, in the melodies, and in the energy surrounding you. You are really not alone. What affects one affects all. good poem....... Dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: Karen Ann Jacobs On Date: 2004-10-22 16:18:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
The one word, “Outlandish” brought the entire poem into focus for me. When I read, “October Moon” and “Days crimson end” I stumbled. I was unsure of how to feel about the melodramatic phrases that I’d heard before. I’ve been taught to shun anything cliché, but you’ve embraced it with this poem and because the poem admits that it is outlandish, yet does it anyway, it is okay. I come away from this poem with thinking, once again, that sometimes, outlandish reactions are perfect and necessary to outlandish events. My son’s best friend lost his dad last valentines day. My son is sixteen and as we were driving to the hospital to be with his friend and his family, we talked about how terrible, how awful, this event really was. My son, started to say the “F” word, but stopped himself, because I was there. I looked at him and said, “You know, sometimes there is no better word and it is times like this that the word fuck is appropriate, because this is fucked up.” My son let his emotions out then, and he was able to spend the next couple of days helping his best friend. My son didn’t start cussing all the time around me, I haven’t heard him cuss since, but he grew up some more that day and so did I. You poem reminds me of that lesson. Thank you. Kay

This Poem was Critiqued By: James Edward Schanne On Date: 2004-10-22 15:30:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.94000
Every line pulls out an image from my mind, Pictures of sadness to be sure but clear, concise, pictures strick me. And to bring out emotion and spark the imagination is a very poetic thing, at least I think so.

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