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| Reviewed by Regis Auffray |
4/7/2009 |
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This is very meaningful to me, Carolyn. I have seen so much change around here; I hardly recognize this place where I grew up. Thank you. Love and best wishes,
Regis |
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| Reviewed by J'nia Fowler |
4/6/2009 |
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| This is a powerful poem ripe with sentiment and longing; a longing for sameness and serenity. We always want to go back a relive the happy moments. Sometimes we can. Blessings, J'nia |
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| Reviewed by Georg Mateos |
4/6/2009 |
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Fifty years ago I left my town, with those colonial buildings and charming people. Not coming back holds the illusion of the bilingual town without prejudice of nationality, color or religion, when that big bridge wasn't build yet, when the only Landmarks were the Navy Yard and the Prison in the middle of the bay.
Illusion, why we go back when we know that the illusion will be shattered?
Georg
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| Reviewed by Karen Vanderlaan |
4/5/2009 |
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| ah, but there is comfort there in the sameness |
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| Reviewed by E T Waldron |
4/5/2009 |
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Deeply moving poem, I like the strength of your attitude!
Excellent poem...ET |
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| Reviewed by John Flanagan |
4/5/2009 |
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Carolyn,
There's bleakness in your words and in the picture and yet there is a sense of belonging and attachment and fondness for the familiarity of home. I find this strong and moving.
John |
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| Reviewed by Phillip William Allen |
4/5/2009 |
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| I wish my old hometown still looked as good as it did. Thanks for sharing. |
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| Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado |
4/5/2009 |
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Powerfully poignant words you pen, Bear; well done! BRAVA!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :( |
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| Reviewed by Sherry Heim |
4/5/2009 |
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It is like a weird dream when we go back and visit something, so many years later, and it remains as it once was. It feels like entering the Twilight Zone...it snaps your brain back like a tight rubber band and makes us wonder if we ever do truly escape our past. Haunting quality to this offering. Nice work.
Take care,
Sherry |
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| Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner |
4/5/2009 |
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My small town of Ontario, Ohio, grew up around me, without me - I miss what it used to be. Safe. Secure. Beautiful. Where everyone knew everyone, where neighbors took care of neighbors, where you could play from dawn to dusk and never worry about strangers - there were none. Where you could leave your house and car unlocked ... those were the days. A powerfully poignant write, Bear, well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :( |
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| Reviewed by Felix Perry |
4/5/2009 |
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It is sad that so many small towns die a long lingering death. when jobs dissappear so do the young and without the young a town is just an empty shell without a heartbeat.
Fee |
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| Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER |
4/5/2009 |
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A journey of the soul so many make Bear, so many never learn how to fly, and they just don't know why, someone once, told them a lie?
Love and Hugs! Jasmin Horst |
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