Xanthe,
beautiiful piece. I feel as if I am there watching this poem take place.

She watched as I brought
Father's cup 'pon my cracked lips -
and - sipped.

This morning, my tongue was not burnt
- for the first time -
coffee has never tasted so sweet

^^^having coffee in your fathers cup :) somtimes even little things like this can bring them close to us again..and I'd imagine that for your mother seeing that cup lifted to your lips brought back memories for mom too. I guess I can relate to this poem more from the point of the mother, so many times I see the greatest loves of my life in quick instances through my childrens actions. Great poem, enjoyed reading it :)

So perfectly written..expressing what's in ur heart...stay strong friend. ^_^

Xanthe, you rock, girl.

I didn't just read the poem. I read it with a cinematic eye, and it was quite wet, cold, foggy... I don't know. It reminds me of French movies.

So beautiful .
You have a unique tone.

EXCELLENT

Xanthe,

Sometimes when a poem is left untitled, that says something itself rather than even giving it a title. I mean there's not even a hint in there that would describe what the poem will be about, so it's kind of like a surprise when we read what you have written.

I had to re-read this poem a couple of times, firstly because it was so good but also I really wanted to grasp what the poem was about. I had a couple of thoughts come to mind. My first thought was that maybe there was a broken down relationship between you and your family. That they didn't see you the way that you wanted them to see you. I think when you described the colder morning but not as cold as before it made me think of that. Maybe the relationship was on the mend and that is why your mother said Good morning to you.

The other thought that came to my head was the fact that maybe your mother was dealing with something like dementia. I only thought of this because you said it was like she was seeing you for the first time. I thought maybe that morning, she had a glimpse of her memories come back and she realised who you were.

I am not sure. Either way the poem is amazing whichever it is about. Who knows I could be completely wrong and it may not be about either of them.

A brilliant write full of personal emotions!

I loved it

x

Stellar!I simply love what you write.

No longer do I fall asleep in your arms
nor do I fall in love with the darkest nights,
for I've finally found beauty in love
and I've allowed myself to hold on;
like a wilting vine hanging helplessly
(yet poisonously) 'tween branches of
Grandfather's oak tree.

---- When I read this stanza, I got the idea that this was written for your dad, I could be wrong. But it has this nostalgic yet hopeful tone. Sort of like looking back to the past and finding out what you were seeking for.

Lately, I'm led to believe that I am satisfied;
I did not argue with my tears to-night,
but I slept - dreamlessly.
And when I awoke, twilight was colder
than usual, but not as dark as it used to be.

--- So, you had an inner conflict but you didn't want to deal with it. However, to-night you didn't argue with your tears and you just allowed them to flow until you fell asleep. To wake up, and find out that it was cold but the tears helped you clear some darkness, perhaps?

"This morning, I found myself looking deeper
in the mirror, before washing the sleep from
my eyes. Mother even greeted me a "good
morning" when I climbed down the creaking
stairs for breakfast.

So I assume what you used to tell me
holds its own truth, and I'm not simply
imagining what I thought transpired in
my yesteryears; I don't have to say
my goodbyes... yet."

--- With this stanzas, I'm guessing that your eyes resembled the ones of your dad.

Her eyes looked past mine from across the
round table (and I am wondering whether
she sees much of Father in them). She
scrutinized my every move as though
she's seeing me for the first time.

--- And with this one, it tells me that yes, you have your dad's eyes. and your mom find something strange about you, not strange but something different. Perhaps, she hasn't find out what it is and that's why she is scrutinizing your every move. You are growing up was my first thought, then I had another one.

---- When I left the house, I realised my
jacket no longer bear stains, and I
watched as a tear falls silently to the
white ground
- for the first time -

in twelve years.

-- Xanthy, sweetie, Did you bathe in the stains of the past? If so I'm glad, You have your dad's eyes, right? Hence, how can you say goodbye? And you have find love, would it be because of your eyes and that you can also see your dad in them? Or is it just my imagination. I feel that whatever it was that you realized help you let go a little bit of your sadness and be open to love. What it did caught me off guard was the poisonously part.. so you are hanging like one of those vines, is it hurting you? or I might have misunderstood that part.

Nonetheless, this was an excellent poem. The Calm tone in your words, and your words made the whole scene, It built the whole scenario for us readers, we could picture everything as if we were watching a part of a movie. Xanthe, you might ready to write stories!. :P

Shit, I love you.

You know, I'm now working for a hospital and I have three shifts and it's not letting me take a breath or be free to read and comment but this write is just irresistable. Of damn course, this write is not your best but still the emotions I felt here were totally out of this world. Like...you just made me miss my family, X! Psssst, and I absolutely like how you titled it 'untitled' and it just shows how much bewildered, unstable and melancholic you feel. I love it, yes that simple and that complicated.

'like a wilting vine hanging helplessly
(yet poisonously) 'tween branches of
Grandfather's oak tree.'

You never cease to add tons of imagery and liveliness to your every piece, ha. However, I disliked the 'tween, since you don't really use it more often and I felt as though the whole piece is just direct and it would seem really off to use abbreviations. I don't know though. Just a suggestion.

It's so clear that this piece is personal and holds something that I may have known, but surely you are the most human-being to understand perfectly.

'She
scrutinized my every move as though
she's seeing me for the first time.'

I love details in poetry, I felt here like I'm reading one of Jane Austens novels, even though they have no connection to this write, haha, but I had felt that auspice and that direct tone of her when writing, somehow. However, I was slightly disappointed because one of the tenses you used was completely wrong. The 'she's seeing' should have been stated as 'she had seen' or 'she saw'. You're talking about something in the past, right? Same goes for the ending, you said 'I realised when I left the house', but there must be past perfect somewhere in the sentence if I'm correct. Anyways, I could overlook that since you have some real wonderful meaning here.

The jacket, tongue and your fathers cup images are totally smart and well-placed. Still I couldn't understand the very closing line. Are you twelve? Haha. I'm confused.

Keep writing, Xanthe, I enjoy it!

Gush! I really love the story...so mesmerizing! You know I want to read it again and again but i have not enough time. Xanthe, just keep it up and continue writing...continue to spread and share your amazing talent. May god bless you always:))
5/5

~Mery:))

Looking deeper into the mirror...Whoa I've never written anything like this before but i like this one

This poem is beautiful. If I wanted to, I could critique it, but it doesn't deserve to be stripped apart. One pet hate of mine is 'tween. It should be 'between', haha. I don't see what the shortening adds. :)

Brilliant poem though. Very moving, deep, poignant. Ticks all the boxes.

Xanthe,

I wish that you would've put a title on this, however, I have no idea what it would be. This is an exquisite poem that deserves to have a name. Beautiful.

'No longer do I fall asleep in your arms
nor do I fall in love with the darkest nights,
for I've finally found beauty in love
and I've allowed myself to hold on;
like a wilting vine hanging helplessly
(yet poisonously) between branches of
Grandfather's oak tree.'

^ Excellent beginning. It made me wonder who this person was, and I still don't know. It could be your father, whom you talk about through the poem, but since he died while you were young...or it could be something altogether different. Maybe you are not talking about a person at all. It is a very interesting beginning, mainly due to the fact that I know that some of your poems are packed with metaphors. It is also a very heartbreaking beginning, because it seems like you lost someone, but have moved on. I love the simile at the end though - that is absolutely beautiful to me, because I know what those vines look like, feel like, and do. So many different interpretations, but only you know...

'Lately, I'm led to believe that I am satisfied;
I did not argue with my tears to-night,
but I slept - dreamlessly.
And when I awoke, twilight was colder
than usual, but not as dark as it used to be.'

^ As I have read this stanza, I have often wondered why there is a hyphen in 'to-night.' I don't think that I have ever seen it that way before...that might be the way you spell it. I would get rid of it, but this is not my poem :] I love twilight. I love the look of it, and the way that it is so cold in the morning. However, I have only been awake a couple times during twilight - way too early for me. This stanza makes me ache because can imagine what it feels like. The line, 'I did not argue with my tears to-night' makes me think that the person has argued with them quite often.

'Her eyes looked past mine from across the
round table (and I am wondering whether
she sees much of Father in them). She
scrutinized my every move as though
she's seeing me for the first time.'

^ For some reason, this stanza makes me feel like the mother neglected her child just because she looks like her father. This kind of makes me a little emotional because I know what the repercussions are - nothing good I can assure you.

'When I left the house, I realised my
jacket no longer bear stains, and I
watched as a tear falls silently to the
white ground
- for the first time -

in twelve years.'

^ This is probably my favorite stanza(s), because you put so much emotion into it. So much even though you might not have meant to.

Overall, I adore this piece. The imagery and the metaphors were so well put that I was having trouble deciphering the meaning :x I am so sorry that I have not commented on it until now. I am not trying to neglect your poems, I just really haven't had the time. I can only give you my thoughts on this and nothing else, because you always do your poems perfectly. You are one of my favorites, Xanthe, because you have such a way with words, and because you are YOU.

You know that I love your work. I have always loved your work. I can read it over, and over, and still find different things about it that I didn't before.

Excellent (sorry for taking up a good portion of your page)
5/5

What a captivating story! It just read so smoothly and sucked me in with your words. I love your use of descriptions and how you pay close attention to detail such as saying "cracked lips" rather than just lips because it really adds a mood to your poem that completes its message.

" before washing the sleep from
my eyes."
^I love how you worded this! So creative!

I honestly could not say enough good things about this poem. All I will say is that it is one of my favorite poems I've read here, ever.