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she parked her blue truck in the driveway
right where I parked my truck many years ago
she stepped out of the truck and headed for the porch
...
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Really it is a poignant piece of work. Very strong and powerfully penned from the wisdom mind. 10++ and goes into my fav list
Soran, I thank you for reading my work and understanding it with the mind and feeling it with the heart. It gives me hope that my poems reach out and really touch the readers. Thank you more than I can say.
it's all echoes raining down on us you know this don't you .....................it's all echoes .....................we're living amid echoes .....................amid the auditory afterimages .....................amid the reverberations of all the remembrances .....................amid the traces and the vestiges, .....................amid the remnants of times past .....................amid our own ghosts and shadows
You have an unerring sense about this kind of writing, Soran. You've targeted the very heart of this poem here.
In addition to all of these, we can reveal the hidden side of this poetry that the poet did not say obvious; It is a philosophical question: What is this life mean?
Yes. What does this life mean when the same event happens 30+ years apart at the same house? It is eerie, uncomfortable, staggering, in its possibilities.
she climbed the steps to the porch and did not turn her head to look at me through the window just as I had done many years ago ** in the yesterdays that are the todays
You are one of the pioneers of a postmodern poets, and this deep semantic poem is very unique, it needs many pages to write a study about it from a psychological and philosophical point of view. From the beginnings, you started with wonderful rare imagery, wonderful, and metaphorical, from (Truck) to (sword)
Thank you again for seeing what is not obvious in certain poems I have written, Soran. It's been a while since poetry pourd out of me like this.
....................we're living amid echoes .....................amid the reverberations of all the remembrances .....................amid the traces and the vestiges ** she climbed the steps to the porch and did not turn her head to look at me through the window just as I had done many years ago
there's a lot of pain behind and after this- I'm glad it stands without being explained,
Frankly, the only poem that equates with this poem in structure, idea, words, beauty and meaning is the street poem by Octavia paz when he says: Here is a long and silent street. I walk in blackness and I stumble and fall and rise, and I walk blind, my feet trampling the silent stones and the dry leaves. Someone behind me also tramples, stones, leaves: if I slow down, he slows; if I run, he runs I turn: nobody.
That is a huge comparison. Huge. Even to stand in the shadow of giants is huge.
Brilliant write! I would have thought of this poem os a simple announcement by children of moving but as i read on the language, the fearsome man in balck and then in white robe, the echos of rememberance made me change my mind that is much more than that. The man white robe expresses your maturity over the years living with the light of God given strength to face it all. Hoping and praying for your daughter's and yours welfare.
there is nothing more rewarding than a sensitive and intelligent reader who is also a sensitive and intelligent writer! Thank you, Savita
This is a beautiful poem on life and death relating to echoes having stunning expression. It may be quoted... my Mother's and my Father's house my house now that they are gone but they are not gone they live here in the echoes and the shadows in the yesterdays that are the todays but right now it was we who sat there facing each other Beautifully crafted.
Thank you for reading and understanding its message. I appreciate the compliment- -but lately I see a few things about it I would change...
A sensitive write from the soul that tugs on the heartstrings. Each generation experiences the fear and pain of potential loss and recognizes the echoes of those connections in ghosts and shadows from the past. A resounding 10+++
Thank you very much. A commendation from you, a superlative writer, is like getting a Pulitzer prize! ! ! And I do love the 10! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
hey, susan! i like the way this is told and the way you've shaped it including the punctuation. and if i read this right, the main message is about the things we relive down generations. i also read into it the appreciation we get for parents that only comes from being in the parent role. i'm wondering, though, did the daughter come to make an announcement about a disease thought terminal as you did years before? appreciatively and queryingly, glen
The answer to your question is yes, my Mother, me, then my daughter. My daughter's case is by far the worst. I came to this house to tell my Mother... many years later my daughter came to this same house to tell me. Echoes. Echos all over the place.
Powerful, gripping poem exquisitely penned Susan Through the repetition I can hear the echoes of the ancestors vibrating through my blood. I love how you remind us of the interconnectedness of all things. The connection between grandmother, mother and daughter and past present and future. You tell the story with deep emotion obviously a painful story to recall I admire your courage in bringing it into the light. Yet there is a sense of spaciousness In your expression. We have the fearsome man but underlying the fears is the glowing one. The place where we are held and all is well, all is well. brillant! ! ! A poem that stirs me to ponder the echoes in this house, this heart, full marks Susan
Norah, you are a writer's dream reader. You get it! ! ! The interconnectedness sometimes is subtle and sometimes it hits us over the head with a two by four. This was a time that hit below the belt but thank God for the angelic warriors. Thank you for delving into this and hearing what was going on with your heart instead of your ears. Hearts hear the whispers much better.
An amazing work of art. The form and content are things to admire. You have continued to prove your creative intelligence with mind blowing poems. Remain blessed Susan.
Thank you for your very kind and supportive comment- makes me feel blessed.
echoes. very very touchy. organic and non organic plus the magic of emotions, in a cycle ny the Creator. then somewhere someone screams or sings or whispers ' I know, Echoes ' the moment of awareness. mostly just before the great sleep. but some people are special
Thank you for searching this poem out and reading it and commenting on it- it has special meaning to me. There does seem to be a cycle in life that gets repeated and the details of its repeat are eerily alike.
i randomly decided to real #17. i liked that you placed additional line(s) amongst the repeated lines. the one with the sword? hmmm? who is to be battled? i'm sure some readers will like to make their own decisions; i like to be spoonfed.**** - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - **** spoon-feed verb verb: spoon-feed; 3rd person present: spoon-feeds; past tense: spoon-fed; past participle: spoon-fed; gerund or present participle: spoon-feeding; verb: spoonfeed; 3rd person present: spoonfeeds; past tense: spoonfed; past participle: spoonfed; gerund or present participle: spoonfeeding feed (someone) by using a spoon. provide (someone) with so much help or information that they do not need to think for themselves. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - YES! i DON'T want to think for myself! ! :) =============================================== ....................it's all echoes...........was i supposed to notice the blip in this line? ================================== BANG! But unlike many years ago, the Mother was well-prepared. As the White One.....did glow, the Mother only.......GLARED.... at both of them! Before the Daughter spoke, before she had a chance, the Gun fired, gave off smoke, and made the Daughter dance! The White One dropped its sword, let out a GASP, and......swiftly fled, leaving dying Daughter as Mother's ward. [And, from the bullet hole, the Daughter bled.] So! Let that be a lesson to all Kids... to send the Police to do the 'Dirty Deed'. No one wants to be on the skids*****, No one wants to deal with pity OR greed. bri ;) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - another good one by Susan. (see below) ****** Idioms 16. on the skids, Slang. in the process of decline or deterioration: His career is on the skids. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Oh, Wow! ! ! Like I said before Your words! ! ! What meaningful words for All! ! ! Very deep! ! ! Wonderful write! ! !
Thank you, Rebecca for coming and reading and commenting. It takes time away from writing your own poetry and I appreciate that sacrifice very much.
That is a haunting, yet beautiful poem. The reader's curiosity increases with each line of the poem until your idea (theme of the poem) blooms like a flower towards the middle of it. The repetitive nature of your unraveling your thoughts is the mainstay of this poem. In any other poem, it would have been a downside. I would think that what is happening is not mere echoes and reverberations. It is our immortality unraveling through generations and generations as seeming waves. The waves look alike and are the ocean philosophically. Without a holistic understanding, the gruesome apparitions appearing as occasional tidal waves are inevitable. (10)
I'm glad the repetitions enhanced the effect and to keep the poem from stagnating I added to these lines. The repetitions were my way of trying for an echo effect. How these events could repeat themselves in three lives stunned me and was the basis of the poem. Thank you for reading and commenting, Madathil, I appreciate your thoughts and the blessing of a 10!
Echoes washed me back and forth emotionally. As before, you kept me waiting for the ending. Wonderful. Thank you
I like how you expressed that- - -Echoes washed me back and forth emotionally. - - - Yes, life has a way of making us wait for the ending and/or beginning. Thank you for dropping in and reading and commenting.! I appreciate the courtesy!
Living with echos of affection of mother and father and reminding the mystery of life, birth and death bot sequences are amazingly painted in this poem shared...10
Thank you, Kumarmani, for reading and for your words and for the encouragement of a 10... I truly appreciate all three
Susan, I am reading this poem for the first time though it is one of your old poems and I am awestruck with its expression. Each line strikes you with powerful emotions.One is imported to the realms of poet's feelings that hang between hope and despair.