This Poem was Submitted By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-05-19 00:05:00 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Double Edged

It was over before it barely began I was saying goodbye even as it started I felt deep sorrow before we parted I was afraid to commit to the morrow I knew I would live to reap the sorrow Nothing last forever, even together

Copyright © May 2008 Dellena Rovito

This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2008-06-05 00:53:17
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hi D....this poem has a melancholy flavor that I can't quite put my finger on. When I first read it I thought it was about TPL or maybe some or all of its members. Your words hit home for me even though they are somewhat of a mystery. Written in rhyming couplets is effective and evocative. Because of some of the events that have taken place in the last several months I am having some trouble critiquing....hope you will forgive me.... Best....M.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2008-06-03 20:31:23
Critiquer Rating During Critique: Unknown
Dellena, I appreciate your short succinct offering. It's message is as timeless as the lessons of life. I'm not sure of the relationship that you speak of, however with most subjects; your write can address a multitude of happenings; for the matters here at TPL to the affairs of heart. Your word choices for your poem are almost over appropriate, your subtle rhyme lends a gentle lilt to the reading of something so profound and sad. I do hope this is not a farewell of spirit for you have so much to offer when you come to the table on fettered. Thank you for shareing your thoughts, blessings in your walk. Osiyo, Lora
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2008-05-20 03:41:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Good morning nice to find your work in the midst of the turmoil. Double Edged is a good title for this writing; it covers so much that life has to offer and the people and roads we travel to reach our destination. Your words allow for many avenues, emotions, is a sad day when we find so little of what used to be........thank you again for posting and for being such a caring person and a wonderful friend. God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2008-05-19 09:17:11
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.33333
Our expectation is ultimately what is our substance. It is the mark of our confinement as well as the extent of our expansion. That some can lose, due to intractability, the ability for growth by closing themselves off to others, can never be sustaining to growth. For them life is but one long droning redundance, beating the drum as if it were the heads of those they perceive ignoble. If we see personal relationships in this light (even collective ones like in the case of TPL) we come away with successes, though perhaps momentary or transient. Yet still noteworthy. Instances where we have reached others or they have reached us. You and I, Dellena, have had this. And we have shared the privilage of watching what is both the worst and best in some others that have either knowingly or witlessly displayed themselves for us on a stage set by confrontation. This is the way we have of taking measure of men, of women, of poets. And what separates the potential to be remarkable from just another For poetry, like all forms of expression, has no finer purpose than to deliver us more from the mundane and stifling social lie and religious myth rather than help settle us more into it. In the midst of confronting this, anyone today on almost all online forums (including those of non-poetry context) will be villified. An idiot threatens you and then accuses you of doing a tiny bit of what he shamelessly indulges every time he pops up here, in abundance. And you and one other (MAH) stand your ground in his snake face. While the others take that, "well, I just don't know" stance. Or worse. When I come away from this it will be with the memories of you and MAH as remarkable. Proven so. And with the makings of poets, the substance of poets. As for many of the rest: Yeah, what is your problem with It sure isn't because you don't belong there. JCH
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