Neopoet.com

nice balance and form for the first four stanzas but you seem to lose it for the final two, and that’s unfortunate because those first four were simply fabulous.

As for the title, a better one might be found in the last stanza - betrayal.

what a taboo subject matter..and done so well..I do agree the last two verses are in differant form but I think it does not hurt the poem in the least…well done.

Just my opinion, a title does not have to include any word from the poem I enjoyed reading this one, great job!

The last two stanzas are what hit hardest. Perhaps some readers will have difficulty with the raw truth they hold.

I have always appreciated your willingness to tackle the taboo, drag it out into the light, and hold it there against its will.

~ Ronda

Powerful piece, and those last two stanzas, with their above-noted change in form, were exceptional. I think you changed the style for them to indicate the beginning of your narrator’s confession, am I right?

Both sides of the story told, both humans unveiled as having weakness and yes, dark desire. The poem resonates and I think I will remember it long after my comments have evaporated from my mind.

Fabulous piece, I advise nothing but to let it stand.

I think that most of those who have read this piece don’t understand the implications of those two stanzas. How a body can react without the mind being willing,(and the shame…) especially after a few years of abuse. But you and Ronda do. Thanks for “getting” it. Your tactful and insightful comments are greatly appreciated.

Always, Cat

that sent me looking up the word, SCRABBLING. I thought I knew what it meant, although I don’t know if I ever have used it myself.
1. To scrape or grope about frenetically with the hands.
2. To struggle by or as if by scraping or groping.
3. To climb with scrambling, disorderly haste; clamber.
4. To make hasty, disordered markings; scribble.

You made me think, ….Love this one.

Tom

Scrabbling is a great little word and it served for exactly the right meaning I was going for. Glad you looked it up, perhaps you can use it in one of your poems. Thanks for reading and commenting :)

Always, Cat

between marriages when a young woman let herself into my bedroom, removed her clothes, and crawled under the covers. When I asked her to leave, she laughed … and then waked me/groped me in the middle of the night … until I, so angry then, succumbed.

Of course disappointing myself all the while in action.

And then there was a time when …

Yours (and thanx),
Chuck

PS: A great, insightful write here. Impressive. I like.