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When time stops and all clocks are silent.
Have you been there?
It's an awful place, not scary, just empty.
A desert without its beauty.
Waste and emptiness.
Sometimes people leave you there, not intending.
In that place, as hope loses its meaning.
You stay, wondering what it all was about.
Where was the meaning?
Was there a goal?
Then comes that voice.
Singing for you.
Time starts again.
Nothing is ever lost.
only forgotten.
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This story is 75 words long.
Comments
For Michel, for me, for us all.
Yes, st times, our journey loses its meaning as we lose focus only to return when we remeber why we began the journey.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
Must you always feel compelled to explain everything?
Some things just require a Thank You or "this meant so much to me." You do this all the time, and it is so insensitive. This poem is beautiful in its simplicity and emotion. It means so much to the writer and has touched me and others. Can't you leave it at that, or is it always all about you? Maddy Cohen
Maddy...darling...
In the film "Immortal Beloved", Beethoven, from his sick bed, asks his once lady love "Must it be?" She replies; "Yes, it must!" Ah well...
Mea the Magnificent
Comments
Stanman makes what appears to be an honest effort to comment in a positive manner, as far as I can tell, on every story posted here. He's to be commended for that alone, but also, to judge from author comments, volunteers to help some of the writers here to make better stories, which seems to me all it takes to show extraordinary good citizenship and a friendly nature. Exactly how nice must someone be to meet some arbitrary standard of perfection?
When one really thinks about it, doesn't this comment seem perilously close to lashon hara, and perhaps even "causeless hatred?"
Cheers,
Puddin'
-
Cheers,
Puddin'
A tender heart is an asset to an editor: it helps us be ruthless in a tactful way.
--- The Chicago Manual of Style
Three Wrongs Don't Make a Right
So . . . I won't go there.
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
Angela Rasch (Jill M I)
Lashon hara
RAMI
Dear Puddintane:
Perhaps maybe 5 or 6 readers understand the term Lashon Hara, which in its full context is not a simple term.
However, a simple definition is that Lashon Hara is any derogatory or damaging (physically, financially, socially, or stress-inducing) communication. A statement can still be Lashon Hara even if true. Lashon Hara is considered a sin in Judaism.
RAMI
RAMI
I think you folks are making
I think you folks are making a big deal out of nothing. I mean, all this over a few typoZ and such. Stanman only needs to have his comments edited and proof read by a compitant group of linguistic specialists who can smooth out and refine what he believes he has written into simply that. Like, we're all capable of writing things that are too open for misinterpretation and deviation from the topic. This might even be offered as a side by side comparison that we may all read and learn. Comments tat are revised after posting may even be considered 'new' comments and in fact add to his comment count. Of course these comments might be spread to another TG group so that alol might be able to read, re-read, and re-read yet again a more refined comment that gets right to the heart of the piece being commented upon. Stan is not only a steady fixture on whatever site he happens to haunt at the moment, but a very helpful and insightful commentator (if one can follow his written word). I do believe that once this very minor challenge is met, more of you will begin to truly appreciated what he has to offer and will be able to read and learn.
Too familiar
It's an awful place, not scary, just empty.
A desert without its beauty.
Waste and emptiness.
I've been living this for nearly twenty years...like being thirsty all the time with nothing to get rid of the hopelessness. Brilliant and painfully sad. It makes me cry so hard it hurts. But like you said, "Nothing is lost...only forgotten." May we remember the meaning. Thank you so much for touching my heart this morning.
She was born for all the wrong reasons but grew up for all the right ones.
Con grande amore e di affetto, Andrea Lena
Love, Andrea Lena
Yor...sweetie pie...
What an elegant and flowing manner you've used to express a place that maybe we've all been. May we all hear the voice that leads us back 'home'.
Mea the Magnificent
I keep listening
I haven't heard that voice yet, but your poem gives me hope. Thank you. Belle
Thanks for wanting to defend
Thanks for wanting to defend my poem, but it's just one, Maddy :)
and I enjoy all replies.
We all read each other differently, and meanings too.
It seems that some recognized this place.
As Stan says we might remember something that helps us continue.
Or maybe just re-find it, that thing we thought we lost.
Innocence, dreams, that indescribable something that once.
When we do, time once more exist, and us with it.
Not that it ever stopped.
We did :)
Although, one can always take refuge for a while.
When the road gets hard, and the mind tired.
Nothing wrong with that.