This Poem was Submitted By: James C. Horak On Date: 2008-07-01 21:11:27 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Straining Intensity

The coming of frost tracing starlit diamond to glass    Vestigial delights brought to ends too soon A face worn beyond the maiden expression except    The glimpse of momentary return found so well                                      in flavor. The old man sees his lady young again, pliant again                                     to his touch. So well moved the fast catch of dreaming memory  Across brows once manicured ivory-like in texture.  While now all the fire but remains in eyes darting,    From one of memory's flames to the other. 

Copyright © July 2008 James C. Horak


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2008-09-13 22:47:41
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
James, Just wanted you to know that I still read this. For me, it reminded me of something my husband had told me many times but truly didn't understand or perhaps at the time it just wasn't meant for me to grasp. Reading this in the form you've chosen has put great depth to the words I've heard, you've brought clarity to a thought, and in this I've been able to gather a small amount of peace to the clutter that keeps whirling in my mind...for this I thank you. Best always, Lora


This Poem was Critiqued By: Lynda G Smith On Date: 2008-07-27 09:08:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Memory is such a powerful instrument - whether it is all that we have linking us to some vibrant moment, or a sometimes wooly filament that wraps around the past wound for our mental use at some later time, to knit into a metaphysical reality that will warm us on a cold winter's night. There is a poignancy that embraces a past in these words, but it is very much a private past, one this romantic heart is reading as warm, in contrast to the the brittle frost of times passage. The wonder of this is that while these moments connect us to our past, they can also give us glimpses of our future, our possibilities, all of the inevitable threads that will continue with or without us. 'So well moved the fast catch of dreaming memory...from one of memory's flames to the other' -a sublime testament to the fabric of a life.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2008-07-22 20:55:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
James- I am not sure if this piece is reticent or resplendent. "Worn by the maiden expression", or "dreaming memory". Is it the "vestigial delights", or is it .... Never mind, "the old man sees his lady youn gain" memory, sweetness of scent and pliancy. "memory's flames" move the moment- and the sight that births the recollection is a creator in itself; those icicles on glass and faeries of the mind. I think you are slipping my man, this is sentimental shit- and I love it, I could have written it (obviously wihtout the JCH panache) but then I prefer to absorb the passions you share in the piece, and pretend you really aren't the cold fish.. well maybe you haven't ever been such, it is only my faulty recollection. I'd like to say I'm surprised, but I'll just absorb the moment and smile.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2008-07-19 19:37:59
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
James, I like this a lot! Memories flame remembered. I've mine as well. I think I view them more realistically than I did when younger. I've more understanding and not near the dazzle. Alas! I'd still today, than yesterday. I'm the fool! Good work, Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2008-07-10 23:19:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
We all know James that I am not much in the critiquing department but I just had to let you know I have read this over and over again and I find it certainly has touched my heart, ..... A face worn beyond the maiden expression except The glimpse of momentary return found so well in flavor. The old man sees his lady young again, pliant again to his touch. Thank you for posting, it will make my list of favorites for this month.....God Bless, Claire
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