Comments on: ronald baatz | outside forever

By: Jude, hey

Jude, hey — Fri, 19 Aug 2011 12:18:12 +0000

I know this woman – her name was Grace Genereaux; part of the heartache is that I was no longer able to share time with her, especially as she went through “this”, very similar times and her way of handling them. RIP Mom Gx.

By: Bonnie Hartmann

Bonnie Hartmann — Thu, 18 Aug 2011 18:11:52 +0000

Oh, Norbert,
…tearing up as I read this one. My favorite woman in the world, my Mom, died in April, 2010. I have so many memories of her in the nursing home, where we all struggled to accept that fate. We took many strolls outside, she in her wheel chair, pointing with her good arm to a bird, a cloud, or maybe to the breeze itself. I would pick up a leaf or a pine cone and she would savor the texture. She really couldn’t see. She too, never wanted to go back inside.

By: Erica Schanno

Erica Schanno — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 23:24:18 +0000

the feel of a breeze / she just wants to go outside / Helen needs some air
July 11 at 1:26pm via iPhone

By: Herr Klaus

Herr Klaus — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 01:18:41 +0000

…reading Ronald’s poems is for me like watching a movie! (in my head)

By: Jeffrey Winke

Jeffrey Winke — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 00:50:22 +0000

Geezus this hits a lot of notes with me, experiencing much the same with my almost 92-year-old Mom. As my mom reminds me in her lucid moments, “This is no fun.” :)

By: Jean Casey

Jean Casey — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 00:27:18 +0000

Very good, very close to the bone. However, I don’t need to know how she toothlessly chews a chocolate kiss. Realism is great until it strips away what is left of her dignity. Yup! I’m that old fashioned.

By: Gary Busha

Gary Busha — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 18:40:11 +0000

Having lost my mother recently, this hits hard. Beautifully perceptive and written. Thanks, Ron.
GB

By: Ana Reyes

Ana Reyes — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 18:30:14 +0000

This is so beautiful. I love the way the title “Outside Forever” is re-contextualized for me by the end of the poem, as though the poet is deferring to the dying mother and recognizing that she, in her own way, knows exactly what is happening to her, and is gracefully accepting it in her own, symbolic way. That is how I read the poem anyways… the poet’s voice is so lovely and respectful, and his attempts to understand what the mother is going through, and find the hidden ingenuity of her declining mind, is extremely admirable.

By: amyjosprague

amyjosprague — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 18:25:38 +0000

This is a beautiful poem, how do you always find such damn good ones? Check out Christian Wiman’s poetry from Every Riven Thing. Good stuff. And Matthew Dickman has a new one up at Narrative magazine called Benevolence that I really think you’d like!
Amy

By: John Caddy

John Caddy — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 17:55:58 +0000

Excellent! Thanking you.