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STALE BREAD

STALE BREAD
I know the power of words
and the unique interplay
of form and content.
yet nothing is said that
hasn’t been said before
and I recognize the pallor
of my own creation.

I have slipped away.

all truth, beauty and valor,
in spirit and soul surge
from a unique force
within which awakens
the Sublime in us.
Yet there is a time
when the spirit falters
and all is lost.

Richard for Joe

Editing stage: 

Comments

Learning from your strength Joe. Your words have much inspiration

However I thought that a slight modification in this piece might make a big difference as it might uplift
the reader's spirit which IS what we seek usually.

I know the power of words
and the unique interplay
of form and content.
yet nothing is said that
hasn’t been said before
and I recognize the pallor
of my own creation.

I have slipped away.

[Yet] all truth, beauty and valor, (add yet)
in spirit and soul surge
from a unique force
within which awakens
the Sublime in us.

I thought the dropping of the last few would give a punch of hope to any weak soul and still keep Joe's spirit alive.
Does this make any sense?
Take care joe.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Please follow me on Instagram
https://instagram.com/poetry.jo?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=

will do as soon as Richard arrives this morning.

thanks

author comment

the spirit never dies
come Richard
and be by thy side

yes, the spirit Is the poetry.

author comment

Joe u still are the greatest poet
in your stage
unparalleled

If the last lines were redundant, I would delete them.
But they are not .
They complete your thoughts honestly

the weak souled are weak precisely because they can't handle the truth. Keep feeding it to them, not hide it from them

you are your own best editor, I have noticed often

a sad (to some) but honest piece. I admire it for its hard truth.

Al

We all face times of crisis in life. As courageous as one may seem, abject fear makes us shudder within,

joe

author comment

The faltering of the Spirit is when the way becomes fuzzed by doubt within ones self.
This is a grand piece and has been said many times or thought to be said but it is needed to bolster the soul as we journey on.
God bless your journey young Joe though it is hard the reward will be greater than we know,
Yours as always Ian.

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

in facing death the flesh endures and the soul longs for a final ending.,

author comment

Joe, every single one of your poems I have read touches me. You have made me cry, laugh, smile and think.You have inspired me to write and are frequently in my thoughts. Quite simply you have spoken to my soul. I hope more than anything, your poetry has not finished speaking to me. Jxx

------------
Remember we are a workshop site.
Don't forget to offer critique on poems you read.

Jane
Joe is a world class poet
hope by now
you too new
don't ask any
TOMMY's
DICKY's
AND LARRIE's
just ask me
okay believe me

Yes Lovedly, Joe is first class, world class. Jx

------------
Remember we are a workshop site.
Don't forget to offer critique on poems you read.

You, too, have a generous and open heart.

author comment

thank you, Jane. Art is the means to truth, and truth is the power that changes us

author comment

In your own words..........
pretense is artifice.
truth is art......
Jx

------------
Remember we are a workshop site.
Don't forget to offer critique on poems you read.

what we..cynics and creative hipsters called this day
set out by parents to rake driveways..cut grass
change the oil and filters in the family luxury boats
we got to drive....homework then in high school
and the rest to chill with the girls late..said car
for night drives....typewriter ballads...eighties
music on casettes...the family..mortgage..job
stuff came later...I worked weekends..made more
money then....not now...now Im broke again
no job...but have more contacts..more pressure
and at this aged time...perspection

funny but the money allowed me fresh bread
sandwhich meats...better smokes...I travelled
to collect the rents from tenants.
(our small company had five holdings)
see parents...(when they were alive and
never a visit without some critical put downs
or comparison to all siblings..it was a bummer)
I would grab my kid ..(she was three then)
and we would drive to some musuem or
river...look-out for dinner..amble about
and chill on our own doings....we loved
the train station of all places...great view
of the bay!! I put in time to myself and
her and I then as a good father..

I had to buy bread last evening and
tinned beef and salmon...enjoyed all
that last nite at my second floor
room in the vintaged expansive Motel
enjoyed the bar band night thumping
through the floor beneath me
while watching a good movie!
the bread was from the Dollerstore
and it tasted cheap...but it was
fresh...
but I remembered the expensive
fresh bread when I could afford
it..black forest ham and fresh
salads and lettuce....dijon

I remember when I was young
and vibrant...potent voiced
with that ten gallon ego on
my head
my ideals strapped to my
side

full of books..music and
company

all faded....body beaten up
pulled through so many
knotholes
and walked in the mirrors
that great hall...

we should have so much
surety at our age of the self
and many do...but at same
time they are about as lame
and relevant as they think
they are
change is the key
questioning keeps one fresh
even our own demise
such as mortality shall be
keeps that edge
Your writing here still
shows me that
U are not stale
although I know well
that feeling
I often wake up
lately and go
Mien Gott
what has this come
too...

I feel like giving up
often
but I dont
I keep clunking along
and come here and
read the fantastic
works we produce
Your works as you
go along
and U give me
hope about the
future and the present
as we share the Now
some people are never
in the Now...never will
be..
they miss so much
and as hurtful as the
past was for me
I always struggle to
cut back its weed
like presence
and make a path
for myself out of
that ruin and
for a walkway for
my friends and those
willing to make the
effort and worth
to visit

Thank U Geremia
for your bravery
and consistent
belief here

Ur Friend Esker!

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