About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Review #4795723
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House of Solitude Open in new Window. [E]
house internalized
by Joy Author Icon
Review of House of Solitude  Open in new Window.
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Rated: E | (5.0)
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Hello, Joy

I came across this item on the Random Read & Review.

Opening Thoughts:


Your title just grabs at the heartstrings. This reader wondered the cause of the solitude. Is it by choice or by tragedy? I had to find out! *Reading*

Further Thoughts:

The poem brought a bit of sadness as I began to read about the house and its many worn down spots sheltering a lonely soul inside. But, is it really a lonely soul, or a writer stuck on an idea that is trapped deep within the muse? It's open to interpretation of course. *SnailY*

Additional Thoughts:

The descriptions placed within the curious lines of the poem set a beautiful form. Words well chosen to cast away dark shadows and let it the light of reading and writing and solo creativity. Where the books are, is not loneliness. It is enlightenment! *GemY*

Loved These lines:

"mellow mortal,
singing a siren's song with promises"

"clatter of shutters"

"Cowering in cobwebbed corners, a piece of me"

"Artless arms embracing lofty prayers,"


These are just a few mentions, as the poem in its entirety paints a vivid picture in the mind of a fellow writer, lost within the space of creativity, awaiting the words' appearance onto the pages.

Like an old, worn down home, memories tuck into dark corners looking for a place to be captured on a page.

Parting Thoughts:

I got lost within the lines. It was like going down a rabbit hole and finding yet more stumbling blocks that keep the ever elusive words from being printed. Rather, so many just get tossed aside and started over again.

Conclusion:

Joy, I was mesmerized. It was a poem I thought would bring me sadness. Instead, it is the snapshot of the mind of a writer, and that is always a good spot to be explored.

Alone? I would say alone in one's thoughts, filling in the blank pages, is a writer's space to be filled with dreams.

Wonderful!

Until next time--write on!

Regards,
WebWitch *Witch*


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