You offer a very lovely piece Alyare and maybe that is where the gift lies. Historically is a story of people who think that they are Godly because of property that they can claim is their inherent right. The Indian as stated here does not springboard off of any sense of entitlement. The property is no meant to be shared. And for this spiritual understanding he ends up being put on a back burner as someone less than human. The reader is invited to take another look at the Indian who has been disenfranchised. The Indian remains who he is: a mystery that can never be discovered apart from realizing that there is always someone who is there first. The spiritual cultivator "I am PROUD I am STRONG." The only true gift worth discovering is the one within. The people who claim entitlement show all too readily by greed and hate they are not.
Hello Catherine, I can sense a person who knows the garden well and strives to as you say at the end of you chapter take the tool to cultivate the gift that lies hidden underneath all the dirt. I love how you greet me with a vision of entering into the wild flower of a dad into the potential of engagement. Their is the invitation to encounter a relationship that will lead to the beauty of a smile and in this case invitation to a circus. I know only to encourage the gift. I can relate a little to the divorced dad who is trying to redeem out of a sense of a accountability. This is the vocation you offer. I enjoy all the metaphor over dead clothes and buried litter. At the same time it seems to distract me. I want to know the people as entities separate from the metaphor you use to expose them. Thanks for sharing.
"I shall be the eternal gardener and plant flowers forever"
Hello Tim, Thanks for the gift of wisdom and wit. I think all of us can image our own superman. You offer a place to connect. Much hinges on the given that we are all here for a purpose and have something to offer. Infinite pride is the obstacle to receiving what has been ours from the beginning. My favorite part of the poem:
The tasks we desire
To accomplish are real,
But we are due for a fire,
With all of our zeal –
WE are in the battle to win and become all God wants us to be. That is mercy.
Hello Jester, I get hooked by the idea of sitting with a dunce cap learning to sing my own song. I knew those days all too well. I am faced with what gives a person value. I can be counterfeit or real the place between the two is not really a choice because it mimics the madness around me. In my day as a child I was shoved in a corner and made to be stupid because I did not know how to behave in church. Now I just find ways to live out what the church really is! It is as good as it gets. Thanks for sharing. Something to ponder.
Hello Tim, It has been awhile since I have run across one of your poems. As I read the title to your poem I am intrigued about what is worth noticing about life. It helps to know that your category is travel which helps me see a plane overhead looking out into a perception of what really matters in life. The idea of sedate people has a sleepy aspect as if to wake up. The poem itself reads well. It is obvious that you have been some thought into it and have organized/harmonized it well. My gut says that you see clearly from your airplane (feathery flyover) and are able to communicate clearly what you see. I am not in the feathery flyover with you and as I reader I need to be if I want to enter your conclusion. Thanks.
I like you style. You offer a poetic scheme that subtly moves into the arena of where the relationship has gone and where it is going. There is no reason to keep going. It is like needlepoint projects that never get done. Why stay together when the only one working to keep it together is you.
Certainly creative twist to the writing craft. Immediately I create my own image with words that I can invite others to dive in splash, reflect and experience. Once upon a time there was a purple lilac water Lily. Every day it reflected on what does beauty look like. One day it looked beyond the surface into the depths of mysterious darkness, because of that the water Lily was able to see something it had never heard, seen or touched before. Until finally it plunged into the depths of imagination and came face to face with bubble gum Jones. Life for Bubble gum Jones and the water Lily could never be the same, because the water Lily and bubble gum Jones were in a relationship seeking in the vehicle of a short story yet to be created "Fill in the Blanks"
It sure speaks to me in my writing journey. I look at the blank screen wondering. I love the way you combine words to make your point like slimy similes and metaphorical molasses. The verbiage is the roughage in the way of communicating illusive truths that anyone of worth would look. The only problem is what will it take to get the reward I want.
I think you hit the nail on the head. It is a timely article for our time regardless of political party. I tire of the rhetoric that claims I am right and that makes you wrong. The "savages" look at us in the mirror and share with us how like them we are. Our only salvation is raising the voice of the president from the dead before it is too late.
Hello Medoff, I enjoy how you invite me to solve a riddle, knowing at the end I will have learned what I did not know before. I feel familiar from the get go and yet I hang on to learn more. I am face to face with a culinary vegetable. Now I really know what I sink my teeth into.
Nice format and grammar.
Hello Baumann, I like your attempt of sharing what it means to be real/authentic. You offer that the reader spend time to get at truth. You offer a mirror that comes of knowing Kreaton. I am in a family reminiscent of the flavor of Tom Sawyer and huckleberry Finn. Kreaton communicates with a banjo. There is a kinship that surpasses family bonds.
Watch out for far grammar errors and typos. Tx for letting me read your piece.
HELLO it so, I read your piece and was faced immediately with how dark life can be in the context of the story you write. The reader is faced with the cost of being in a state of suffering in order that some entity could shed light.
I could use a paragraph about what happened in the other chapters. You need to look at typos. I have a lot of trouble following this in a fantastic genre. (Ie res of monsters) rough language. Thanks
Entertaining perspectives on what anger means in the context of an ordinary experience. I liked the way you invited me into your walk so that I might see with you how anger might be understood in a dog's world. The issues of territory, size and the many cats encourage one to choose fights wisely.
I loved the sweetness of your revelling in the spirit, which like the wind carries oneself away into a place of tearful bliss. The theme of letting go of sweet wind chimes to the soul to embrace her that before I could only imagine. Tx so much for sharing. I was blessed.
I enjoyed the gift of your poem Lovecast. I am immediately impacted by the vision of moving from darkness to light. I enjoy the idea of knowing the light within can in the personas of Spirit and Love..., I can impart hope to others who seek this same light. May this light ever flow!! "Tangled Web"
I love the sentiment Jean. What a precious gift to give to a daughter who has grown. The suffering that comes with birth is worth it. I enjoyed your progression that lead to the realization of what makes you feel whole. I rejoice with you and enjoy imagining a day when the message is shared. Life is a gift.
Hello heartbroken, a nice catch of the tone and dialect of which you speak. I especially like the metaphor of the wall. I am aware of the wall's affect and at the same time realize I have the power to undo the obstacle that gets in the way of love brick by brick. It is a parable for our time.
Hello Cushy, I relate especially to the place of wanting snow. I love snow and unfortunately my present place famous for snow gives raindrops instead. I would hate to have the choice of imagination you offer. I may discover that what I thought I wanted was not as good as I thought. Tx
Love's decadence may be the salvation of us all. You offer a very entertaining plunge into the world of discerning the difference between discipline of self to stave off shame, or giving into an indulgence worth knowing about.the bottom line: keep me from insanity.
Hello groovy girl, I see a lot of angles to this story. First of all an offering to a potential friend, who would share how impressed they are with your vision. I also see in this piece ingredients that make for good friendship. I also had a resonance toward thinking I am reading how to be a friend to self. Tx. Your compassion and caring shine brighter than a dun eclipsed by glory
I love the local color Hossman. This is a family and circumstance that is easy to relate to. The wife is dealing with conflict in the world at large and will not take no for an answer.
I love the metaphor of the volcano. At an earlier time in my life that was my dad. When mom gets her chance to rule watch out. Enjoyed humor. I had no idea what Amish meant. Thanks
Hi Fun. Nice tale even if it felt lengthy. Annabelle seeks more out of life than being the object of a man's affection. She is a person with a mind of her own. Reggie' the foil that allows for another to find her heart. Love is in the soul. In freedom she discovers her hope.
Thanks for the hope that permeates your piece. I can recall the joy of playing marbles in my younger years. It could be that the solution to the tech crazy kids is to see with different eyes. Catseye marbles like crystal balls remain see ing us of the best gift we can offer:time.
Hello Hunter's moon, I liked the idea of knowing in hunger what it means to be full. You offer your tale in the form of a relationship that went sour. I was reminded of my own divorce and the recriminations that ensued. It was in these yearnings of trying to understand that there is in the end the hope of an embrace that makes one understand. The poem reads best in the context of a relationship that finds a way to come back to life. I also am even more aware that the hunger is longing to find someone or something that makes hunger a means of finding out what it means to be filled. thanks
Hello pure sci-fi, I left the tale getting what I came for. There was an irony that got Prae to the party, with a death theme. Prae went as an only freak. Before grief at being the only freak there, Brae discovers she did have a twin after all. I was left thinking that all of us who see ourselves as a freak in a manner of speaking are not as alone as we think we are. If we look hard enough we will find someone who is just like us looking for identical identify.
Thanks
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