My Twentieth Year - 14. VCR

Nice
Sucked into agreement by Prelude
Brought into realization by Poem
Shamed into confession by Postlude

My only question, AC, is were these three written as a triplet in your twentieth year, or assembled later?

Tv/vcr gives us junk food and nutrition, for our minds.

When my mum died, I didn't want her things, I searched for her handwriting, I learned then money, wealth, stuff doesn't matter, nothing does but us. Money will never make us happy.

Your poems are lessons.

Only we can find the light, the universe inside ourselves, our soul I guess, because that's all that's important, it's all that means anything. That and sharing that light with others.

So that's what I thought of when I read this, AC,

On 04/08/2016 12:07 PM, skinnydragon said:

Nice

Sucked into agreement by Prelude

Brought into realization by Poem

Shamed into confession by Postlude

 

My only question, AC, is were these three written as a triplet in your twentieth year, or assembled later?

Thanks for the awesome review, skinnydragon! Your breakdown of the function of the three parts here floors me. I didn't bother to consider it in quite the way you state, but it seems very true.

Any editing I have done to these poems for posting has been very minor. I would not group them together, and in fact are presenting them sequentially. The best hope for context is achieved by doing that.

As for some poems having preludes/postludes, I thought that was something I started to do in H.S., but since those poems have already been posted here, I checked and it's not the case. The first one is No. 13 in this collection, written shortly after I turned 20. Had I known music better I might have use 'Entrada,' which sounds more exotic doesn't it

But seriously, most if not all of the multipart poems were written as a single effort. One part leading into the next.

Thanks again.

On 04/08/2016 01:08 PM, Mikiesboy said:

Tv/vcr gives us junk food and nutrition, for our minds.

 

When my mum died, I didn't want her things, I searched for her handwriting, I learned then money, wealth, stuff doesn't matter, nothing does but us. Money will never make us happy.

 

Your poems are lessons.

 

Only we can find the light, the universe inside ourselves, our soul I guess, because that's all that's important, it's all that means anything. That and sharing that light with others.

 

So that's what I thought of when I read this, AC,

Such a beautiful review. Thank you, Tim. Yes, I can see you wanted your mother's handwriting, not her possessions. To be honest, a heartfelt review like yours makes me be less critical of this poem. I see its flaws and shortcoming, but I need to look beyond those and see that it can reach folks.

Thank you for that gift. Cheers.

I fear the VCR; I never have to call it sir but it can command my attention and time just the same; the Poem had me nodding in agreement; and the postlude made me wonder if I can ever live up to being the Christ your words describe.

On 04/09/2016 07:51 AM, Parker Owens said:

I fear the VCR; I never have to call it sir but it can command my attention and time just the same; the Poem had me nodding in agreement; and the postlude made me wonder if I can ever live up to being the Christ your words describe.

Thank you, Parker. I was quite self-conscious posting this one, as VCR's are antiquated, but still folks (including me) live by DVR's, so I suppose the intent of the Prelude can still come across.

The Christ theme is a very important one; I was in the process then of sorting out my Catholic upbringing (with its lies insisting I hate myself for the simple inborn trait of whom I loved) against the pure and unsullied message of Jesus. In some ways, the process continues in me even today.

As always, thank you friend for your support and understanding.