This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2013-08-01 17:54:05 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Same Old

                                                                    sometimes even the golden chain                                                                     the Word that wisdom wrote                                                                     is not enough to stem the tide                                                                     that makes the sunset rote                                                                     again, again, again, again                                                                     each day is like before,                                                                     so you have to make what matters not                                                                     and take what doesn't cure                                                                     you want to die but health keeps on,                                                                     you do because you can't,                                                                     you try to speak with a certain wit                                                                     without falling into Kant                                                                     but the wind blows smoke rings between rasps                                                                     on your porch through the pyramid chime,                                                                     while the nilus coils like an angry asp                                                                     at your jew who seeks the sine                                                                     no wisdom here your greek laments                                                                     its torture to go on,                                                                     your two dissolves and separates                                                                     into just one and one                                                                     you're where you were yet one more time                                                                     but it won't be the last,                                                                     your curtain falls just where it raised                                                                     like your future into past.

Copyright © August 2013 Mark Steven Scheffer

Additional Notes:
For MAH. Well . . . now it is.

This Poem was Critiqued By: Joe Gustin On Date: 2013-08-26 11:47:10
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
This poem to me seems like a crisis of faith. As if nothing we do or say willl change in enivitable. That this path we are on is not a straight line but rather a cirlce. The closing lines are so empresive Beauifully presented poem thankyou

This Poem was Critiqued By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2013-08-08 17:35:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Hi Mark, this is a fabulous poem you wrote for Mark and I am sure he thinks so too. Written in lower case with a solid rhyme and expressive word choices. You have good alliteration sprinkled here and there, the flow is easy, good enjambments and little punctuation makes this piece a joy to read. I am glad I don't have to pick a favorite phrase or verse but if I did I think it would be the last quatrain. Well done. Best wishes, cheyenne
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2013-08-02 04:09:55
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
MSS This reminds me of Frida Kahlo..."I hope the exit is joyful — and I hope never to return". The anti-poem meets the anti-crit. There's something of the anti-poem sentiment that hangs over coming back to TPL...the poem could be an emblem of the place, and the (doubtless) morbid fascination found in watching it disappear. We have come and gone so many times. One day the departure will be final. But not today. Nice to seee you/read you again. MAH
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2013-08-01 23:05:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
The economy of poetic device shows a new maturity in your work. Gives it the flow only a sincere messenger can deliver (all poets should be sincere messengers.) Form is not in your way either. You at your best showing to me the Muse has found a comfortable rest in you shoulder perch. The last verse reflects meaning so well and yet falls so easily on the tongue. An excellent poem coming from an excellent place. JCH
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