Brooding Hen And Her Alibi, The

Rating: 2.4

In the eye of the storm
shall rest our eternal redemption.

I stand by the bathroom window,
let the sun shine generously on my face,
and write with such exuberance—
I wonder how could I not call such a task
my way of life?

Instead I'm a daughter, and not a good daughter
but a restless, sick, defiant one—
Counting lovers on her fingers and toes
darting off into the night at the first sign
of possible escape.

So nervous to a stranger's eye. Fidgety,
indecisive. Tensed nerves. I do not know
why—perhaps it's because what's to come
cannot be as good or wonderful
as what's been lived.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ivan Donn Carswell 13 February 2008

The brooding sense of menace within, the dark urges; then brighter lights of filial affection - a picture of tomorrow in a teacup... Rgds, Ivan

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Egal Bohen 13 February 2008

Nice reflection - may I suggest.. Every breath that we take Moves us into our future Every breath we let out Is our past left behind Our lives but a moment A moment of living In the air as we drink it Imagined in time Egal..

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Coach Roth 27 February 2008

I think you can call 'such a task your way of life...nicely done. Coach

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Alison Cassidy 23 February 2008

A touching moment of angst penned by one whose birth-date belies the maturity of her thinking and the elegance of her expression. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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Alison Cassidy 23 February 2008

A touching moment of angst penned by one whose birth-date belies the maturity of her thinking and the perfection of her expression. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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Chris Mendros 19 February 2008

Don't be so sure about what's to come. The future is unwritten. Strong, introspective work here.

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Kenneth Fordham 13 February 2008

Very well written, but a sad situation. I think she is lost in her own mind not knowing which way to go. Feeling trapped, while looking for love, in the wrong places.

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