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[paperleaves]

Dear fellow LitNetters:
I'd like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you who reads my posts for your support. It's been a rough few months, and one of the activities I have been trying to nurture is the writing of my poetry. Your comments, criticisms, and feedback are so very important to me, and they help me grow not only as a writer but as a person. Thank you again, I hope you enjoy reading this.



anxious as the tree in fall
whose leaves tumble from its body
without any notice of resignation,
my body trembles in the chilled night air,
waiting for any sign at all
that will tell me when they will all depart.

the ones I've loved, hated, and dismissed,
each face that I've known
has been but a passing car on the highway of my dreams
in and out of different lanes
but always left behind.
I wonder about them from time to time,
and yearn for their voices once more,
like the smell of your mother's dresses at Mass
long after she has met her grave.

at a train station, boarding the car,
my limbs struggling behind me with luggage,
I wonder,
how is it that we operate
without coins or currents?
the blood, ever boiling
with the passions of life
is sufficient for survival.
the human machine, so delicate
yet strong, so mystical
yet understood,
is a work of art
I'll never master.

after all,
who could deny the beauty
of your thick limbs pressed against mine in the doorway
as muscle memory twists our frames
into knots of passion,
an ever cradling symbol
of infinity.

[breathtest]

I like the third stanza, which suggests to me that we must have a soul, or something inside all that blood that keeps our passions alive and keeps us going. It is nice to think we are more than just machines that operate when needed, such as with the insertion of a coin, as you point out.

I also really like the idea of muscle memory knotting the two of you together. Something out of your control, something that is meant to be.

'The highway of my dreams' is maybe a bit cliche for me. It's a good analogy but I've heard it used quite a few times.

The first stanza though is a brilliant depiction of vulnerability.

[Delta40]

You sweep me away with your soft, pondering imagination, lined with romantic wonders and great imagery. I would change 'dresses' to dress perhaps but otherwise, I enjoyed the journey you took me on.

P.S I'm sure many of us are glad to support you Paperleaves...

[hillwalker]

I was also struck by the phrase 'muscle memory' - but for me the second stanza was the most evocative in what is a wonderful poem.

I always look forward to reading your work even if I don't always have any comment worth adding so your poetry never goes unnoticed.

H

[Bar22do]

All the imagery here is so involving, Paper, and all those delicate feelings that get through: fear of loss, longing, passion, wonder... I'd highlight many passages, too many, I guess, but let me align myself with this:

he human machine, so delicate
yet strong, so mystical
yet understood,
is a work of art
I'll never master

for this is in essence how I apprehend our fragile, yet amazingly adaptable and resistant as if our will to live remained intact while life itself fails us.

[Hawkman]

This is indeed a lovely poem, paper and it's style is flowing and involved, but if I have any criticism it might be that in places it flows just a tiny bit too much. In S2 I'd have to agree with breathtest about the "highway of my dreams" being just a bit cliched. I think you could safely drop "of my dreams". I'd also question, "passing car", which infers that the car passed you, not the other way round, so their being left behind jars a little. It still makes sense, of course, and I realise it may be intentional, but for me it lacks the elegence of the majority of the poem.

Still on this sentence, I'm not convinced that you need to be so long-winded about, "in and out of different lanes" when "changing lanes" would suffice.

One last niggle in this stanza, "met her grave"? is this a local colloquialism by any chance? I've heard of people meeting their fate or end, but not their grave. Graves tend to be filled, but this isn't such a pleasant image, and might be too down beat for the nature of the poem. Jury's still out on this one :)

The only other thing I would question is currents, where I would be inclined to make it singular.

The poem is strong with imagery which has been highlighted by previous comments. It is a wonderfully reflective poem and I have enjoyed it immensely.

Live and be well - H

[IceM]

If your poetry is but a morsel of who you are, you're a wonderfully beautiful person. This poem was fantastic, as are the others you incline to share with us. Thank you for sharing; it was a pleasure reading it.

[firefangled]

I've always read your poems the way I enter paintings. You have a great knack for portraying the physical realm in all its characteristics. You make us feel, smell, and hear what you write, all the while representing something beyond just the picture.

The last image of limbs twisted like the symbol for infinity is remarkable.