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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Stronger Than Medots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Lost Sheep
    ASL Info:    41 M Vancouver, WA
    Elite Ratio:    6.24 - 909/772/72
    Words: 317
    Class/Type: Poetry/Nostalgia
    Total Views: 430
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 2037



    Description:
       You can learn a lot, while holding the door of a restaurant


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsStronger Than Medots
    -------------------------------------------


    An inch, two, an inch, two

    His steps are small
    Shuffles really
    The toe of each boot slides in front of its twin
    Progress is slow, but he seems confident

    One foot is a bit braver than the other
    It reaches forward two inches a stride
    Twice that of its brother
    The sliding steps echo from the wall

    He approaches one painful step at a time
    An inch, two, an inch, two
    The irregular rhythm is rapid, yet the progress is slow

    His shoulders are stooped
    His elbows locked
    His arms swing in short strokes
    Matching his small stride

    His knuckles are swollen
    Knobby, purple
    Fingers crooked and frozen
    Large veins weave through age spots on the back of his hands

    He approaches one painful step at a time
    An inch, two, an inch, two
    The irregular rhythm becoming a drumbeat that never seems to end

    His face is furrowed
    Deep lines crease his cheeks
    Canyons etched from skin of granite
    Smaller lines frame wisdom in his eyes

    The rhythm pauses

    He slowly lifts one foot up a single tiny stair
    More a misalignment of the brick than anything
    Sinewy arm muscles pull his slight body up

    New cracks form on his face
    A weak smile breaks open
    Sparkling eyes and a gold tooth
    He’s proud of his accomplishment
    He’s here… on his own

    He moves away one painful step at a time
    An inch, two, an inch, two
    The irregular rhythm becoming something I will never forget

    An old man in his last year
    Making a simple trip to lunch
    He’s proud and he has every right to be

    His body might be frail
    His balance weak
    Still he hasn’t given up

    I'm not sure I could do it
    He’s a lot stronger than me









    Submitted on 2006-01-16 17:29:59     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      This is such a beautifully written piece expressed with such care the words touch very deeply within my heart because I spent about ten yrs caring for the elderly and have lost many who have passed on now this reminded me of all the ones I have cared for, so thank you for reminding me just how precious to life they really are. I will be adding this one to my favs.

    You are a wonderful writer and I look forward to returning here to read more of your work later and I hope that you will enjoy some of mine also some time.

    Ladymustang
    | Posted on 2006-09-23 00:00:00 | by LadyMustang | [ Reply to This ]
      The comment by Prince of Tales pretty well nailed what I would have said. A nice progression in both movement and discription. Appreciate it better as you get older, folks.
    | Posted on 2006-03-18 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      Hiya again. It's Reid, the annoying (j/k) misunderstanding poet/critack

    OK, I have only a few minutes at this time.

    I look at the poem and want to be harrrrd on it!
    )cos you asked(

    Well, one thing only leaps out at me: your use of a lot of "lazy modifiers". So often they can be discared for better effect, without loss of genuine content.

    For instance, just one:

    "The irregular rhythm is rapid, yet the progress is slow"
    ---

    Unless there's some underlying reason for the line to be this long, why not:

    "The rhythm is rapid though progress is slow"

    -it reads great this way.

    Likewise:

    "Large veins weave through age spots on the back of his hands"

    -age spots are always (well, practically always) on the tops of hands (or back, if you prefer) and veins on old hands are always ropey.

    Your keys are veins and age spots. Distill the line?

    "Veins weave between spots livering his hands"
    (if liver spots is not a term you like, then:)
    "Veins rope the blotches on his aging hands"

    There must be many other interesting ways to treat this and other lines in your poem.

    I'll come back another time and look in again,
    just look and really read the poem. I have not given it a complete read even yet. Just focused on the lazy images of two lines.

    cheers,
    Reid
    | Posted on 2006-03-17 00:00:00 | by Reid Welch | [ Reply to This ]
      I enjoyed reading this piece very much. I'm sure you purposely kept the age of the subject person from the poem until the end. I couldn't tell if it was a child or something else for a while. It made me think about the helplessness that old age can bring about. But then you gave the real message: he never gave up, even so. It makes me feel great to see another example of poetry in real life.
    This poem was simple in voice and in what it said, but it still moved me. I can't quite point out how. That's awesome. I know I must read more of your work.
    -The Prince of Tales
    | Posted on 2006-03-17 00:00:00 | by Prince of Tales | [ Reply to This ]
      They keep walking, and I think that is the beauty of this - I wish I could go more in depth, but I think you come off perfectly describing everything that you want to say. I don't believe I could do it either. Baby steps to baby steps I suppose.

    ~Ryan
    | Posted on 2006-03-16 00:00:00 | by 27_deadpoets | [ Reply to This ]
      Oh Steve,

    Wow. You gave this one alot of feeling. It reminds me of my uncle who is 58 and he was born 6 months early. In 1949 it was a rare thing for baby's born that early to survive and because he was that early his legs never fully developed. He has had countless surgeries to help his legs and they finnally fused his ancles to his legs. So he has a very hard time walking. So this poem reminds me of his walking and how one of his legs he kind of drags along with him. I loved this one for that fact and it means alot to me. Thank you so much for noticing the little man and how hard he does try. I am honered to read your writing. And would be honored if you would critique mine. I feel you are a much more tallented writer than myself. And would take your comments to heart. Thank you!
    Angie*
    | Posted on 2006-03-14 00:00:00 | by bbcakes1115 | [ Reply to This ]
      Very nice, Steve. The inch..two repeat was a tiny bit overdone, but only for me, if you're happy with it don't worry about one reader, I like the repetition, just found myself wishing it would move on.

    When it did I wasn't disappointed, that's one of the most poignant endings I've evr read.

    Sensational description of an old man's daily war against the end.

    Loved it

    be happy

    Graeme
    | Posted on 2006-02-15 00:00:00 | by wewak11 | [ Reply to This ]
      The true patients and percavearance of those with no other options, it's sad we often lose what we start with. This is an excellent example of form and cadence working togeather with the words to bring the final piece that extra step (er.. excuse that pun, unintended).

    Jason The [censored]
    | Posted on 2006-01-22 00:00:00 | by Jason The Basta | [ Reply to This ]
      This is a beautiful poem. It really is. Reading this just put a smile on my face. I am a registered nurse and I work in the homecare field. I care for people of all ages but many of them are elderly. They are indeed such strong people despite their outward appearance. They have survived a long life of happiness and disappointments, success and failures, and they live to tell you about it all. They fight everyday with pain from arthritis, yet they remain determined to carry on their lives as independent, strong and proud people. I have so much respect for them, especially once you have worked with them on a personal level and learn just how much they do have to offer the world. They are wise. This poem is lovely, very well written and expressed and honestly, I couldnt have said it better myself. Beautiful work! Take care.

    Lorna
    I give ya the vote on this one!!! 5/5
    | Posted on 2006-01-21 00:00:00 | by lmz | [ Reply to This ]
      I have to tell you, I often look at older people and what they have to go through everyday and wonder how they have the strength to do it and also how I don't believe that I would have the strength to endure those things myself. I guess that's something I won't know until I'm faced with it, but it reminds me that there are people out there far better than me, for the fact that they are doing something that I'm not sure I would be able to.

    Sorry to ramble...I really like how you take me straight into where you are with your writing. Reading your writing is like sitting down and watching scenes unfold in a movie. You have amazing descriptions and put an immense amount of feeling into your pieces! Great job!

    Candi
    | Posted on 2006-01-21 00:00:00 | by dreamweaver | [ Reply to This ]
      Your observation of others is astounding, so is your descriptions. When you write, it is like we are seeing things through your eyes, not just reading them on a white screen. Every little step this man took, was in fact a great achievement, a new miracle. With your writing we had the oportunity to witness that.

    Your repetition of words also adds more power and depth. I've noticed that you do that quite often in your writing and it is part of the reason I keep coming back to your page. Among others.

    I think that all of us hope that when we reach that time, we are all strong. I know that I want to be an independent person until the day I leave this planet. We will, if we truely believe we will.

    This here was another wonderful write from a poet that has captured all of our hearts with words so sincerely written.

    Brightest Blessings,
    Crystal
    | Posted on 2006-01-18 00:00:00 | by lenotoire | [ Reply to This ]
      I'm sure you'll find out just how strong you are one day so don't write yourself off just yet.

    Your words painted a very lucid picture, I could just see the old guy going to get bread from down the road in my mind, nicely done.

    The one thing I did pick up on was in the ninth stanza, how did you know that was what he was feeling? he could of just been thinking 'f@#k me that hurt' maybe you could have left that open to interpretation for the reader in someway, just a thought though. Cheers.

    TTFN
    V
    | Posted on 2006-01-18 00:00:00 | by Vastmark | [ Reply to This ]
      Watching my grandmother slowly get to where she can't go out alone anymore is hard, not only because one day I'll be that old and I'll have those restrictions, but also because it's one small milestone on the way to the end. This is a wonderful piece, Steve. I wish more people of an age would look at our elders with this much respect and awe. Great write,
    Traci :)
    | Posted on 2006-01-17 00:00:00 | by onetruesmartass | [ Reply to This ]
      I am suprised to see so few comments on this hun. Perhaps people are uncomfortable thinking about getting old? ("I'm not sure I could do it
    He’s a lot stronger than me"
    )

    I love how you have been writing about things you see in others, You have always had a wonderful knack of capturing the people around you in a way that we all get to visualize them as you explain what you see.

    And you will be that strong, you just have to live that long to get to be that strong. (I know you will, cause I don't want to be pushing you around or chasing after your super-charged wheelchair when we get there!)

    I love you. I missed you horribly over the weekend.

    Love,
    Me
    | Posted on 2006-01-17 00:00:00 | by Chell | [ Reply to This ]
      I live and care for my eighty-three year old grandfather and this poem reaaly touches me. He's so much weaker in body but will never be broken by his fragility. I really appreciate the tone you took while writing this piece. It's not patronizing or anything like that, you really get to the heart of aging. Growing older- how you loose your balance but not your desire. I loved it. I really did. I am pleased to have found it and am greatful that this site exists for you to display your writing. I would only change one thing- "his face is furrowed"
    then in the next line you repeat "face" and it seemed a bit repetative, I would say "his brow furrowed"- just a suggestion. Otherwise, very lovely poem. Thank you for posting!
    | Posted on 2006-01-16 00:00:00 | by dawnschild | [ Reply to This ]
      i really liked the rhythm in this piece and how its talking about an old man. it shows true respect to the elderly and it was nice to see that.
    me myself, i'm an adolescent. So it seems like we'll never grow up in my perspective and i hope i never do! but when i do get old and frail i'll remember this piece and hope i am as strong as the old man pictured here.
    <!>catie
    | Posted on 2006-01-16 00:00:00 | by Catie O Daniels | [ Reply to This ]
      In a time where youth tends to oversee the older generation and refuses the fact that we could learn so much from them, your piece is a very inspiring wake-up call.
    I loved the rythem, I was actually able to see and feel every step taken by the man. What I loved most was the conclusion, say the wisdom that he is stronger than you and me and many I know.
    Thank you for reminding us of that fact.
    I enjoyed reading it very much, take care
    Amina
    | Posted on 2006-01-16 00:00:00 | by jaded17 | [ Reply to This ]
      I had to revisit. It really is amazing to be able to tell a writer how much you love thier work. I must have stumbled upon this write almost a year ago and still remembered how much it meant to me. I can't explain- but since you wrote this then it's safe to assume that you know how it is that I am feeling. Every day. Little steps with determination and pride. While here I am able bodied (whatever that means) Able to run, but unable to see what is ahead of me and unable to decide if it's worth the risk to run. I am at that delicate stage in life when decisions are scary because you no longer feel invincible, as you did a few years earlier. And still you take every "step" as slowly as the elderly. But not because you are weakend by the strain of years and betrayed by muscles deteriorating, but rather because you are terrified of choices. Terrified of wrong decisions, and how they will affect your "life"- so paralyzed by this fear that you aren't really living. Just breathing and anxious. I think I'm still just taking things too seriously. --My, what a comment is this? Ummm, sorry, I shouldn't let myself go like that, but I have a point. Really, I think that the fact that I remembered this peice after all of this time, still thought about it, sought out to find and rediscover why it was so powerful really says something. It's quite an honor to have your art live on in someone's memory, procure emotion and inspire them in any way, and I can honestly say that if that were ever your goal when you started to write, then my friend you have succeeded. Thank you, sincerley.
    | Posted on 2006-04-03 00:00:00 | by dawnschild | [ Reply to This ]



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