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This Poem was Submitted By: Medard Louis Lefevre Jr. On Date: 2005-09-07 06:03:31 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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I Think of You

The last drink The last cigarette The last of the noiseless chatter I think of you When I don't think too much I wonder if it even matters The alcohol seduces me The smoke warms my lungs I am not ignorant to what will come I think of you When I think of the end If I find any purpose, I'll leave some The last glass The last coffin nail The last of a life so wasted I think of you When I'm not even here A succulent love I never tasted The ethanol sedates me The nicotine soothes me I offer you my senseless death I think of you When I know there is nothing Awaiting the comfort of my last breath

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2005-10-02 01:34:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Medard This feels like you have written the last word on unrequited love. No amount of booze or fags is going to lift you out of this living grave. Your structure is smooth and elegant, the repeated references to your drugs of choice effective and absolutely unobtrusive. You kind of make me want to grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shaking ... if your life had no meaning for this person, you can be sure your death will be, as you suggest, something that will not ruffle their senses in the slightest. Nor will they appreciate your poetry. Until, of course, it's far too late. Best wishes Mark

This Poem was Critiqued By: Jillian K Sorenson On Date: 2005-09-30 23:51:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.41667
Morbid, but well crafted. Captures the emotion very nicely. I like the repetition of theme throughout each stanza, the continuity of it is great. The poem almost scorns the object of affection, when you say "I think of you when I don't think too much." Nice work Medard.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Gerard A Geiger On Date: 2005-09-16 13:15:42
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Dear Medard; A haunting poem about a lifetime of worshipping someone from afar... unrequited love on a grand scale as related in this somber work from one who has never tasted the fruit of his most ardent desire. As alove poem, this is wonderful and cannot be improved (IMHO) thank you for sharing this work chock full of real heartfelt passion/longing/angst/ but no remorse even when facing the last moments of his senseless death/life...unrequited love till the end. A moving work, Medard. Thanks for allowing me to review this. It is unique and grand as it is. Your friend, Gerard

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-09-16 12:26:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.85714
Medard, This is sad. This fellow is depressed. He fell for a women but seems helpless, hopeless to do anything to win her. He just cries in his drink. We think about all the things we want but do nothing to make it possible. So evidently it wasn't as important as was thought. Addiction to drink and cigarettes are the culprits. And that's difficult to overcome. It's listed in each stanza so it tells of it's importance to the person. The final stanza spells the hoplessness. Only death will be his comfort. So sad his hopes/dreams are shattered till things change. Good gut wrenching possibly wake up call for someone. dellena

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2005-09-13 14:48:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi Medard, Call me nuts but I find myself gravitating toward dark poetry...I love Poe! Having said that...this is a heart wrenching and profound piece. It takes the reader down into the very guts of our souls..even though we know we may be killing ourselves with bad habits we are powerless to cease the behavior. I don't drink but I admit to a few smokes a day and I say...I smoke so little how can that be bad? Dumb. I don't think you are only speaking of addiction to bad habits here but also an addiction to someone you love deeply but I am not sure if she is aware of intensity of that love. Drinking seduces and smoking warms but she is a succulent love you have never tasted....'the last glass..the last coffin nail...the last of a life so wasted...I think of you'...wonderful lines...doleful, poignant, brilliant....I offer you my senseless death...what more could anyone offer than death? Life perhaps? 'when I know there is nothing awaiting the comfort of my last breath'...a more soulful statement I have never heard. Well done...with every piece you write I find myself thinking it is your best...this one is no exception! Goes on my list. Peace...Marilyn

This Poem was Critiqued By: charles r pitts On Date: 2005-09-10 12:40:56
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
this poem immediately brought back those old hopeless, helpless, feelings ive struggled to define when broken-hearted and struggling with the choice of life w/o love or merciful death. during those times i try to capture the utter despair of having consciously decided to die-that w/o her, i have already ceased living, my heart and soul hobbled and much like a horse with a broken leg-must join the body with its amputated counterparts. dont think i ever hit the mark as u have here. i felt that sad, cold,loneliness, so familiar to myself-yet i felt it for you. kinda like finding your dog or cat that has been runover in the road. such sadness for what could have been but now will never be. ihope u found some comfort after writing this-like i do; like you got rid of some of it - just enough to go on. thanks for making me feel less alone.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Latorial D. Faison On Date: 2005-09-09 21:31:36
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Medard, I was intrigued by the structure of this poem. how each line of every stanza mirrors every other in line/theme. I guess it's hard not to think on those things that we do out of habit. Addictions are hard to break. Some people think that's too heavy a word to describe a simple like for the drinks or smokes, but I say that anything you can't do without is an addiction brought on by an addictive spirit. What's more profound about this poem is that the speaker apparently is aware of all of the dangers caused by these acts, yet there's no real fear about what could one day be . . . sickness, disease, a wasted life. There was one instance where I would make a change . . . The last glass The last coffin nail (I thought this line could have been the last "puff or smoke" to keep that structure tight) I think this is the most well thought out poem I've read this month. I love to read clever poetry where you automatically no the writer gave the piece a little more thought. I can see how serious of an issue this is, and the words are strong and bold and piercing. It makes readers think of their own plights, their own health, their own lives. Life is what we make it sometimes, and making these kinds of decisions about drinking or smoking could determine how well or how long we live. Thanks for provoking my thoughts and making me think a little more on preserving life. Great poem. Latorial www.latorialfaison.com

This Poem was Critiqued By: Duane J Jackson On Date: 2005-09-08 01:34:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Medard, I sense a feeling of extreme hopelessness in this dark piece...the cigarettes, the alcohol...the looming shadow of death. Love can make or break a man and it seems (from your poem) that it has stricken you with a void that can only be filled with painful memories. I can relate very easily having been in this situation before. The last drink ---- a sense of finality...death seems to be near and this death could be mental or physical The last cigarette The last of the noiseless chatter --- noiseless chatter - indeed, silence makes the most noise! I think of you When I don't think too much --- it leaves us with nothing much to think of I wonder if it even matters The alcohol seduces me ---- addiction The smoke warms my lungs ---- consolation I am not ignorant to what will come --- it seems you are aware of the outcome but cannot beat it I think of you When I think of the end If I find any purpose, I'll leave some The last glass The last coffin nail ---- very dark image The last of a life so wasted I think of you When I'm not even here A succulent love I never tasted ---- the feeling for longing was never fulfilled The ethanol sedates me ---- the descriptors become sharper and stark; a loss of consciousness The nicotine soothes me ---- well, hopelessness again! I offer you my senseless death ---- you realise it is senseless but yet feel trapped without alternative I think of you When I know there is nothing Awaiting the comfort of my last breath --- nice line, as if you were looking forward to breathing your last. Wow, a lot of dark areas in this one....gothic in its appeal. I liked your incorporation of rhyme...it gives the piece a nice cadence. Keep writing!! Take care, Duane.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul R Lindenmeyer On Date: 2005-09-07 14:53:39
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Medard, an observational look at serious depression over amour gone bad. The chemicals mix with the depression of loss and return to the "I"s. I am, I think, I find, I offer, etc... The method is vers libre, and suited for this subject.My suggestion would be to remove the "I"s and see how it sounds and reads. The reader can differentiate between the subject matter and your thoughts. I would suggest some of "The"s also be considered, or given some character or personified. Chilled last glass, last coffin nail, the lasts of life wasted.....Not even here, I think of you, succulent love never tasted... Hope I do not offend, but some honest thoughts make all of us better writers, so if we offer suggestions on others work, hopefully it will not be taken badly, since it is given with the best of intentions. Enjoyed the post, and hope you have a grand day. Peace, Paul

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