The burden of an unspoken sorry

I thought this to be a good piece. Line 2 I think could use a little re-wording. [This was one of my favorite lines in the piece], along with "black lace memories". _____________________________________________________ Income-tax forms should be more realistic by allowing the taxpayer to list "Uncle Sam" as a dependent Anonymous

Jeeeezzuzz... This one reaches in & rips at my heart, shredding the layers of comfort I tried to soothe it with & uncovers the not so distant history of aching I thought I had softly laid to rest finally, just recently... You are a hell of a writer woman. & your timing is incredible (sorry to get personal) woooh, I am reeling, even the title is like a sword violently drawn from it's scabbard for me right now, I have so longed to know some small kindness or apology from a lost love, today it slapped me hard across the face & ripped into my chest again... & then I find this write that speaks every word as if it pours from those wounds... I see why my work resounds in you ... yours does completely in me... just incredible Brilliant. "Your name slides across my mouth and steals the breath (should there be a from,at or to here?) the edge of my lips. I seldom speak of you, yet still you haunt the spaces between my words." I have written something similar... I suspect we may have similar influences (& maybe experiences... guess this one is pretty common though)... I am still almost panting from the impact of this read though... amazing. Cheers Anni~ "A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket". ~Charles Peguy

(what an intriguing pen name you have chosen, but I digress.) I found this poem achingly tender, and enjoyed too many of your lines to quote them (I'd probably end up citing all of the poem). There is one line I think might still be peaked: Grief lays as a mantilla over my face might have even more impact without the "as", I feel. Otherwise, a wonderful piece! Yours, ~Nina

I liked it . nice flow, I like simile.weird twists, words you make up of your own. that make people wonder, what they mean; and or, your meaning is understood because of your writing. either way its great. Mantiscepter

one fifty three Friday marcation of time Remember the weddings the resort dance clubs the wild and tame bars walking in and meeting people the greeting and exchange of it like a heady drug even without the drink I recall too the art days of classes walking around on breaks and finding others who sketched in detail and tones like myself already we have spoken of our similarities " no punctuation " and the handling of word phrases and dreamy qaulity of lines I like your approach like I like your poetry something interesting in this and experienced Again Glad to meet you and we shall read our reads Steven!

Stealing the breath from my lips! I am a great one for chopping out words that only clutter. I think it would do quite well without [the edge of]. Great work! Geezer.

I found this in my wanderings ... its beautiful and the last line is magnificent ... worrying that picture between fingers ... I have done that ... and still do ... brilliant write my favourite lines are your last I have a picture of you tangible proof of us that years from now I will hold in my hands and worry between my fingers like a piece of sea-green glass. Poignant and heart rending for me ... great work ... regards Jayne "We did not change as we grew older; we just became more clearly ourselves. Lynn Hall" ...

I would still be very happy with this, no matter. It speaks volumes and I see now that the "edge of your lips" could be cutting out/off a part that feels as though his name might be there, even if seldom spoken. Respectfuly, Gee.

forlorn the bright unfettered sun stretching the black treacle of night tangled in dream hair scattered white on clean linen the twin entrance to souls bright and rimmed with starched colours like winter skies pressed with sheets of abundance waving like heartbeats beneath the thin bone skinned places the pulse a breeze when I whisper your name in growl breath This poem is creativity that captures in it something of magical longing I have read this much and often stilled by its power of thought so much I capture and very little captures me and yet your words settle into me like ribbons of dark finding light to share and dance in hypnotic trance rythymns forgive me if I go on but I cannot help what i find in emotive cause Thank You Thank You Thank You

I remember Mother my guilt her cancer our pains as we tossed the ravaged and unsettled drama of voyage family shipwrecked with her loss and no one talks no one meets we smile and we all know the pain we hide like our own cancer buried deep inside like a coal seem fire smoke and mirror sky bleeding off the vapours twisting it away how many arms of lovers have I cried how many had I made cry sharpening wit like a whip the flail of emotions locked in the keep of histories patiently waiting Your poem when I came back to read for me makes me remember clear headed the paths winding my cards my letters from her tucked in my suitcase of sentimental ties to the world like the "green glass"