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 Oct 2016 Tom Blake
David Adamson
Dear David:

We are deeply gratified that you gave us the opportunity
to read your poems.  Notice that we say “opportunity”
rather than “submission,” for truly you graced us with works
of such enduring power, so sublime, so transcendent,
that our humble words scarce can adequately praise
the sacred privilege of reading them.

Seldom, no, never has human experience been so distilled,
so purified, so exalted, yet so exposed
in all its paradox, its shades and sunbursts,
shouts and silences, the hiding places redolent of inner light,
as in these timeless works.  

A calm breeze from the desert’s edge at dusk,
the chatter of a mockingbird at dawn,
the rumble and crash of a hidden waterfall,
the laughter of a child unseen in a cool wood’s shade,
emanate so intensely from the shapes of these letters
that our faith in the power of language to evoke reality
has been nourished and restored to its proper place.

However, we regret to inform you
that your poems do not meet our needs at this time,
which are for relevant poems for the upcoming
theme issue on Hammer Toes.

We hope you will consider us for future opportunities.

Sincerely,

The editors of ******* Quarterly
Have been collecting a lot of rejection letters lately.  Here's my interpretation.
 Oct 2016 Tom Blake
Zee N
i let myself to trust you
i even hand you a gun
that once you pull the trigger
you know
it will never get back
to you

you aimed it
to the one who gave you
you pulled it
without any guilt
you let the bullet
hit my heart

it is now stop beating
for you
it was taken away
by you

now you got no place
in my heart
no more
no more
not anymore

i lie in tears
on my excruciation
bemoan
alone
without you
by my side
 Sep 2016 Tom Blake
River
This logical brain I've developed
Is calculating and critical
I can't help myself from
Reminiscing of the days
When my experiences were less verbal
And more tactile, visceral and
Magical
I was so easily tantilized with
Life, with
It's abundant beauty never failing to spark
My endless curiosity

I recall
Pressing a conch shell
On my delicate child ear
And listening intently to
The recorded echo of waves
And sometimes i thought I heard the calls
Of seagulls within the interior of
The shell
And I wondered if it was even possible
For the shell not to only have the sound of the waves imprinted within it
But the sounds of the animals that dwelled within and without as well

I used to be really spellbound by the concept of God and Jesus
And mother used to tell me that they both live in my heart,
And I was completely flabbergasted,
Because not only did they live in my heart,
But she told me they lived in everyone's heart
And I imagined a young bearded man
With long brown hair
Clothed in a robe and a purple sash
Just chilling in the interior of my heart,
Like he'd made a home out of my heart

Now, I'm not completely sure
How I feel about faith and God
Because there are so many options
I find myself asking:
Are they all true?
Can it be possible that only one religious path is the right way, and the rest are wrong?
Yet I feel like the more I seek,
Though my rational brain cannot
Come up with an explanation
The more I actually feel
Sought out and
Comforted by a God
That I yearn to know more about

Just the other day
A metaphysical ball of misery
Was lifted out of the pit of my stomach
When I cried out to God
Running through dense woods
Like out of a movie,
Only me and God
Me trying to run away,
Like always,
Because the pain of this world
Is too sharp
Sobbing,
Yet,
God is redeeming me.
 Sep 2016 Tom Blake
River
Questions
 Sep 2016 Tom Blake
River
Tears well in my eyes
For the sense of powerless-ness I feel
In the pit of my stomach
So powerless to pain
So powerless to evil
I can't change it,
Erase it,
Morph it into something beautiful
Like the end of a Disney movie
When the spell is lifted
And the kingdom is restored

I see masks plastered everywhere
Having a resemblance of depth
But they're merely shallow, bottomless abysses
Echoing their identity that they cling to
I want to say:
"It's all been said before! Can't you see? All these uprisings and rebellions throughout history didn't lead us very far. Our human nature is our persisting scar"
But maybe they'd sneer and call me "un-enlightened"
But really, their ideals are not even in alignment with their lifestyles
It's bizarre how we humans can dream up ideals and a utopia in our mind,
But continue to fail to bring those dreams into physical form
Maybe we're just all not on the same wave length?

I just don't understand
Do some people actually enjoy suffering,
The perpetuators of cruelty?
Or are they programmed to act maliciously by default
Because they were taught that we live in a cruel world
And the only way to survive is by being a sociopath
Or is the source of cruelty the 1 percent,
The filthy rich looking down at us at a Roman ampitheater,
Getting a thrill off our suffering

I want to pick up the whole world in my arms
Like an ailing helpless infant,
This is what our world has become
A toddler who doesn't know better,
That is drawn in by the vibrant glow of the fire
And is burned
I suppose collectively, we just don't know better
That we continue to be self destructive in every possible way,
And we don't even know it or
We even enjoy it...

I don't want to see anymore
Sad, vacant faces
I want to see smiles abounding
And hearts eager to share love and kindness
I want to see change,
I want to feel change,
I want to be change!
I want to change!
I want, the mindset that leads to futility
Rather, what can I do and be for others?
Perhaps this is what we all must focus on.
 Sep 2016 Tom Blake
fagaveli
it's okay to remember,
keep her with you

memories hurt
but they heal, too

at least,
I hope they do
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