This Poem was Submitted By: James C. Horak On Date: 2007-10-27 21:07:24 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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In My Thoughts

Flickering flamed tallow wax drop                          dropped. Tightening eye lid smacking its lower             in spliced thunder pound. Abduction ideas planted back, back                    so far...    the shudder is indistinct-dreamed. Is it all worked?, this mad heap of                      self-selling? Drawn forth by each leap to sell                at every telling? Is even a glimpse at the loose             tent flap any more The boyhood grace of circus going?                 Or The glistening eyes given their first            nubile-aware showing? Do we own even the least of these? Anymore?
Copyright © October 2007 James C. Horak

This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2007-11-05 19:50:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
James, this touches me. I can almost hear “Patches, I’m depending on you son”, “I’ve tried to do my best, It’s up to you to do the rest”. That was not meant as anything but a compliment. I listened to the “indistinct-dreamed” You wonder why, maybe, the “glimpse” or even the “boyhood grace” and you have me walking where I once did, or wished to. I write this piece after my daughters regular visit to the old folks home... In your thoughts- I can say that I have thrown the gauntlet down many times when in your thoughts- “do we own even the least of these” I wonder, or maybe the resident value resides deeper than the presumption of disagreement. Maybe, that is the “thought” or maybe- we should just remember that the little boy was once, use.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2007-11-04 15:47:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
We own it all. That's why we've got garage sales. Some of this stuff ain't worth keeping. :) TEW
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2007-10-30 21:56:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
James, This is good. As an adult with your years upon you, youth is almost a dream. You spent a lifetime selling yourself. Your abilities, your personality, and when you think back it feels like it was a dream. Were you the youth awakening to women. Were you the youth you lived. Was your life yours? Do you own the memories? I think yes, always......... This is parts and pieces of who we are and whom we shall always be.... Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rene L Bennett On Date: 2007-10-29 01:09:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.62500
Your imagery always leaves me in awe. You have such a different style of writing and with each piece as well. Which is an awesome thing. The reader never knows what to expect. Great write. Rene'
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