Regel

Cold spray on my face. The wind at my nose. Shaky hands on my chest. I can’t feel my toes. Fridged crystals bite my lips My body is cold. My life just caught up. A long time coming I'm told. I thought I could out run it. Find somewhere I belong. But now it has found me My God was I wrong? I know I hijacked this one but I feel this story has such strong potential. I hope you don't mined the suggestions. It was only meant to encourage.

I agree with Hopper Wolf it will speak to many people in different ways. I loved the rhyming scheme but I have just one to ask about the barriers we encounter. Are they mine or are they yours?

I think this why god created men and women. We see the world in entirely different ways. I enjoyed the poem but disagreed with the man centered in the story. First of all we should all marry a Trophy Wife. The trophy wife should be judged by her contents, the qualities that she possesses but not exclusively by her looks. If her world is not centered around herself (entirely) I would say you have a keeper. As to this man who would live in a loveless marriage I just can not relate. Beautiful women are not always seen at first glance. They are discovered.

Happy (Belated) Birthday Greetings, Sorry I missed it.

Defeat is a chalice I have drunk from far too often. It burns my lips and scorns my mouth. Etches my throat and rests uneasy in my stomach. It’s a hangover to be avoided, whatever the cost. It found me first when I was a young boy. It taught me the taste of copper. It visits me in my dreams. It calls me by name and taunts me. But I fought back Locked eyes with that demon Dodge him when I could Out foxed him and ran like hell. How many terrible chances Have I taken? Risking everything Just to avoid winning that prize.

A pipe dream is better than no dream.

Beauty! That's a Canadian expression for something very well done. One of my favourite folk artists wrote many a song on this theme. My favourite is The Jeannie C. from Stan Rogers Turnaround album. For your enjoyment (or probably for mine) I will include the lyrics The Jeannie C. Come all ye lads, draw near to me, that I be not forsaken This day was lost the Jeannie C. and my living has been taken I'll go to sea no more We set out his day in the bright sunrise, the same as any other My son and I and old John Price in the boat named for my mother I'll go to sea no more Now it's well you know what the fishing has been, it's been scarce and hard and cruel But this day, by God, we sure caught cod, and we sang and we laughed like fools I'll go to sea no more I'll never know what it was we struck, but strike we did like thunder John Price give a cry and pitched overside. Now it's forever he's gone under I'll go to sea no more Now a leak we've sprung, let there be no delay if the Jeannie C. we're saving John Price is drown'd and slip'd away. So I'll patch the hole while you're bailing I'll go to sea no more But no leak I found from bow to hold. No rock it was that got her But what I found made me heart stop cold, for every seam poured water I'll go to sea no more My God, I cried as she went down. That boat was like no other My father built her when I was nine, and named her for my mother I'll go to sea no more And sure I could have another made in the boat shop down in Dover But I would not love the keel they laid like the one the waves roll over I'll go to sea no more So come all ye lads, draw near to me, that I be not forsaken This day was lost the Jeannie C. and my whole life has been taken I'll go to sea no more: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Written and recorded by Stan Rogers. Copyright Fogarty's Cove Music (The lyrics above are not exactly the ones that are on the liner notes on the album, but they are the lyrics as recorded on Turnaround.) The liner notes say that it was written in January 1978 and dedicated to the fisherman of Little Dover N.S. © Fogarty's Cove Music

I enjoyed this very much. As a high school student I learned to drive a standard on my dad's old 1967 Ford Rambler. You know the kind. Three in the tree and a qt of oil a week. The one line in the entire story that reminded me of this old car was the line And She runs...

This is quite well written. Disturbed and very disturbing but I believe it catches the emotions of anger and despair quite well. The escape this person is asking for resonates in me even to this day. How brutally struck is this chord? Sad and yet understood, they have taken away even her self worth.

Maybe you'll think this weird Ayshela but suddenly as I read through the body of this poem it occurred to me that this is exactly the perspective of an animal that has been mistreated. They cringe at extended hands. From the time I was small I have had a love affair with animals. Often I would keep me hands behind me and crouch down to be less of an imposing figure. To these poor unfortunates hands hurt and frightened them. Extending a hand to pet them would make them cringe shake and assume submissive postures to ward off aggression. How strange it is that humans are the only animals that don't stop their aggression when submissive posturing occurs. They continue to hurt even when no resistance is offered. It does make a poignant story even though I have probably coloured it differently than most.

The only person here that can answer these questions Arwen is you. Funny thing is there was a time in my life that I felt hated and despised. I hated my life and it sucked all the joy out of my life. I had no confidence in myself and worse I began to hate the image that so many around me despised. My life was a spiral, a sink hole where hope went to die. Although I will admit that while my problems were mostly external they manifested themselves inside my head and haunted my dreams at night. I have to tell you that indeed you would be missed by more than the few people that you can imagine. You life has hardly begun and should you decide to take your life back here is the first person you must befriend. "Arwen meet Arwen." I know this has become unfashionable but I will pray for you. I hope that you live a long life with happiness in such quantity that it washes the painful memories away.

Happy birthday to both of you.

You were drugged!! I firmly believe that the human body releases drugs that make you blind and stupid towards the object of your affection. It is easy for any one who has gone through this to see that after the drug loses it's effect (love) that eyesight and sensibilities return. You see things as they are and not how we wanted them to be. Very nice piece of writing.

How often we see people around us that would stand up for a friend but not for themselves. I like the tone and the strength that these words show. They cut through to the white boned truth and lay it bare. Brava Wren!

What is death? It’s the door out of this world. That's all I know for sure and as Neil Young once wrote “and once you gone you won’t come back, when your out of the blue and into the black!” It is what we are hard wired to avoid. It is programmed into our very cells and it awaits us all. I have no desire to rush the process so I have tried to do the sorts of things with diet and life style choices that will allow me to enjoy what time is left on my meter. It is not something that I fear but by saying that I don't mean I diffuse bombs for a living. I don't take dangerous risks for thrills. It is what Black is to white. Two sides of the same coin sort of speak. Life and death are connected. With the natural world spring is birth and renewal and winter is death and decay. You can't have one without the other my friend. I would say that I am entering late summer hell maybe early fall in my life cycle and Yatsuna13 I would guess that you are still pushing through spring flowers. I have already seeded my replacements. They have turned out to be decent people and I am proud of each one. While I don't believe in reincarnation I do believe that the genes that we are comprised of reemerge. So we never really die entirely so long as we had living relatives. My belief structure tells me I have a room waiting for me. (I hope there is room service.) It will be a home coming for me. In my minds eye I see love ones that I have lost waiting to greet me. Reunions with people I dearly miss. My time remaining will be spent enjoying the living and not worrying about those things that I cannot control. On a personal note, I hope my winter is short.

Although we haven't yet met I too would like to wish you a happy (belated) birthday . I hope it was everything you had hoped for.

Thank you Wren. It saddens me that so many people forget the personal sacrifice that these people made so that we could sit in front of our computers and lament about how tough we have it. Freedom at what cost? When I look at what is happening around the world today I realize the price is never fully paid.

On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month we Canadians pause to remember the fallen soldiers of Canada. A famous poem was written with a simple message. For those of you that know it, a brief indulgence please. In Flanders Fields In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields. Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The name of John McCrae (1872-1918) may seem out of place in the distinguished company of World War I poets, but he is remembered for what is probably the single best-known and popular poem from the war, "In Flanders Fields." He was a Canadian physician and fought on the Western Front in 1914, but was then transferred to the medical corps and assigned to a hospital in France. He died of pneumonia while on active duty in 1918. His volume of poetry, In Flanders Fields and Other Poems, was published in 1919.

Painful images, whenfear and hatred intermingle. A dangerous brew they make. Nice piece.

I would tell you Salinye but then it wouldn't be a secret. Therefore I would put it in an undisclosed room somewhere.

Strong images all the way through this Wren my favourite verse remains this one The artist/sculptor long dead and almost forgotten. It begs the question "What will survive me after I am gone that time will not destroy?"

Happy Birthday Ayshela.

It seems to be a common problem with all of us when something doesn't work out. It must have been me. I am the problem, I am the cause of this failed relationship. Well that might be true on occasion but then why do opposites attract? Why don't people who are alike like each other? Sorry my friend I can pose the questions but the answers may not lie within us. On the bright side it did inspired this sad poem.

This is a nicely written poem with many universal elements. Everyone (that can still remember their own teen years) can relate to it. Not everyone can be the center of attention at any given moment but I am willing to bet a dollar to a doughnut (my standard wager) that you didn’t escape everyone’s notice. Perhaps you are like me, a late bloomer. Keep writing you show promise.

One could call this a poem (de terre).