Susan Lacovara

Silver Star - 3,527 Points [Peace of My Heart] (1963 / New York)

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Comments about Susan Lacovara

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  • Silver Star - 8,437 Points Michael Mcparland (10/26/2014 12:32:00 AM)

    I've not yet read a lot of your poems but what I have are wonderful and beautiful. You are truly gifted and speak from your heart and soul. :)

  • Rookie - 76 Points Walter C. Edwards (6/9/2014 7:05:00 PM)

    Dear Susan,
    just read Act two very well done, the thought of painting on the ceiling? well i guess it will keep me thinking.
    Thanks,
    Walter C. Edwards

  • Rookie Amir Mohammad Islami Chalandar (6/6/2014 7:27:00 AM)

    excellent poems. you are great in explaining your feels. i invite you to read my poem

  • Rookie Amir Mohammad Islami Chalandar (6/6/2014 7:27:00 AM)

    excellent poems. you are great in explaining your feels. i invite you to read my poem

  • Veteran Poet - 1,382 Points Richard Beevor (5/8/2014 2:46:00 PM)

    mandolin wind, susan I loved it, great work, reading more now

  • Veteran Poet - 1,382 Points Richard Beevor (5/6/2014 11:14:00 AM)

    was this a great poem......of course, case closed! Brilliant work Susan

  • Veteran Poet - 1,382 Points Richard Beevor (5/6/2014 12:42:00 AM)

    love Like Icarus, a brilliant poem

  • Rookie Orin Griffin (3/23/2014 8:38:00 AM)

    Very nice write, scenic and visual, thank you for sharing your work.

  • Rookie - 69 Points Jemima Rivas (2/27/2014 3:30:00 PM)

    Very nice poem very nice rhythm but does it mean something tell me what it means plz :)

  • Rookie Geody Harman (2/26/2014 10:37:00 AM)

    Insightful.. It enlightens the mind to a period of introspection and reflection. I like it!

Read all 10 comments »
Best Poem of Susan Lacovara

Artist Alone

It is not with the sadness,
Nor madness,
Of Van Gogh
That I exclude myself
On winter days, in February...
Neither is it with the passion
Of Mc Kuen' s loneliness
That prompts me to feed
The returning gray cat...
Surely it isn't the same
Broken hearted heaviness
That took Dali' s spirit
Makes me question why
I surrender
To the paleness
Of my room, unattached
To another's heart....
Tis merely my own poet's prison
That paints my starry starry night.

Read the full of Artist Alone
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