This Poem was Submitted By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2006-09-16 11:49:49 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Sailing to Mazatlan

I find my center fathoms deep in graves  within the bones of grief. I softly fold  into the embryo I was, as yet unfurled--  as yet unborn to pain. Sea light reveals  bright clothes, while cuts splash red across my breasts.  Saltwater stings, as ragged wounds pour out  my life into the wake of unseen ships  whose vessels slice the night beneath the earth.  The engine’s thud and pulse are measured beats  of lengthened time, a moment’s pause to weep  for promises, for broken wombs, for things  too far to reach again. Too far from home. 

Copyright © September 2006 Joanne M Uppendahl


This Poem was Critiqued By: Paul R Lindenmeyer On Date: 2006-10-17 10:17:34
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Joanne, on a whim I returned to TPL and what do I find?..You're back and once again immersed in Madre Maris Metaphor...Knowing proclivities and histories, I can commiserate with this outpouring of sadness and grief. The pace is consistent, {except for S1,L3 @12 vs 10 for all others} perhaps for effect or to force a pause, ie. the -- after "as yet unfurled--". Verbiage is crisp, a bit of internal rhymescheme in S3 L1/L2, and some deft usage of soft "s" and "L"s..You know what a minimalist I have become, so perhaps the I's and My's could be removed, since we know it is you speaking, and the repeating "as yet"s could be cut back. Only some small changes to a somber rememberance. Perhaps recalling the most joyous parts of his life might also receive some thought and verbiage, since in reality, time and space, our children are always and will always be with us. Hoping this note finds you well and at peace. As always, my best to you, Peace, Paul


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2006-09-16 21:23:32
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne, Though you've written of the sea, of woman's loss and penance, you've written of the inward journey of a mother, of loss, of coming to terms and putting into a coping perspective. Deep soul searching far from what is familiar being fostered by the engine's thud and pulse urgin on and yet luring one into other realms. The sea/ocean can be healing yet it is that myterious creature that can be so seductive, your heart is in the sea while your spirit is in the cosmos....somewhere in between you are still wandering but only for a short time. The tears wash the soul, ocean mists can cleanse the mind....fly high for you've earned it. Warmest, Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: Teresa Green On Date: 2006-09-16 19:54:38
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Poet, I am cut to the core from poring over this revelation. You have found a way to climb out of your skin and look within. The rhythm of your poetics rolls like the sea swells. Your greif is exemplified here within these lines and I can not help but identify with the messaage within. The sea itself spans your grief and therefore the sailing is just a painful reminder of how far that place where you felt no pain really is. Too far from home. How thought provoking this work is! I'm new to this site and am enjoying the ride so far. Peace and hope, Teresa
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2006-09-16 15:54:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Joanne....I just answered your critique of my poem and am thrilled to find you posted your own. Your first stanza speaks of grief....deep in graves within the bones of grief...I don't believe I have ever heard a more doleful phrase than this but coupled with..."I softly fold into the embryo I was" speaks of the desire to be new again and the fear that you will not which is almost too painful for me to read. If only you could suddenly become unbrudened, without strife, and alert to find the mystery and excitement of every day and the blessings it may hold. In your second stanza you speak of the wounds and pain suffered by life and the disappoints it lends as we struggle to stay afloat in the wake of unseen ships (an amazing metaphore) Your third stanza speaks of the sorrows you have faced, the broken promises, and the happiness you feel you will never find again....because....it is too far away from home. While this piece is somewhat different than most of what you write it is pure Joanne...lovely even though I can feel pathos in the lines and what lies between unwitten and in my opinion unspoken. I must thank you for posting this gem here and giving all of those, who choose, a chance to read and comment on it. Hopefully our critique numbers will improve...after all that is what we live for is other poet's opinion of our work...otherwise we might just stuff it away in a sock! Bravo... Hugs....Marilyn
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2006-09-16 12:29:18
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
I think, Joanne, you have written your, "Stopping by Woods On A Snowy Evening." No less than Frost, perhaps more, your added intensity with this poem, touches the reader in more ways, me in particular. For I know that intimacy we can come to feel with the sea and its inviting escape. And in ways you show here, although not in the fuller perspective you have portrayed as a woman. At such times, "home" is the anchor pulling us back from finding out how much in accord we are elementally with the sea. And if the undying might persist better elsewhere. Had we not those pesky "promises to keep/And miles to go before I (we) sleep." Sometimes it is just a thread, but then, perhaps too, things may only for the moment appear, "too far to reach again." Be in no hurry to find out. Removing options isn't what it's about either. Interesting parallelism at work here, don't you think? JCH
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