82. Faith

Posted on January 26, 2014 by iPoem

faith

82. Faith

Sunday 26th January 2014

Overview

In Faith, the speaker delivers a raw, honest exploration of belief in the absence of proof — particularly as it relates to the unknown terrain of death, the soul, and the afterlife. Rather than leaning on dogma or sentiment, the poem interrogates why we believe what we do, and how those beliefs may either comfort or limit us.

What sets this poem apart is that it refuses to preach — it does not instruct the reader on what to believe, but rather invites a thoughtful interrogation of faith as a psychological and emotional mechanism, particularly in the face of grief, uncertainty, and existential fear.

This is a philosophical poem rooted in emotional truth. It invites surrender not through mysticism, but through presence — a deep acceptance of “the here and now” as the only certainty we really have.

Imagery and Tone

The imagery in Faith is subtle, abstract, and mostly conceptual — dealing in the language of emotion, time, belief, and internal conflict. Lines like “a granite heart / Hardened by disappointment” and “pearls of wisdom / Are often borne from the sandstorms of adversity” are gentle metaphors that speak volumes without ornamentation.

The tone is measured, reflective, and deeply grounded — there is a humility here, an openness to ambiguity that actually strengthens the poem’s message. You present paradoxes not as problems, but as truths to be lived with, not solved.

There’s also a rhythmic clarity in the longer stanzas — the pacing simulates an unfolding conversation or inner monologue. This allows the reader to take the ideas in incrementally, which is ideal for processing such dense emotional content.

Why This Poem Matters

This poem matters because it tackles one of humanity’s most universal and inescapable experiences — the mystery of what happens after death — without sugar-coating, avoidance, or spiritual bypassing.

You’re addressing the intellectual discomfort that exists at the intersection of spiritual belief and emotional pain — and how clinging to illusions (even comforting ones) can stagnate our growth.

The lines about faith being a “cushion” are especially poignant — they offer a nuanced perspective: faith can be soothing, but it can also become resistance if used to dodge emotional truth. That’s not a message people often want to hear — which is precisely why it’s important.

This poem doesn’t reject faith, but it demands that faith be re-examined, renewed, and flexible — grounded in experience, not fantasy. It reminds us that life’s lessons are often earned the hard way, but can’t be sidestepped without cost.

Ultimately, the poem validates emotional evolution over rigid belief. It acknowledges how messy, contradictory, and beautiful our process of awakening really is.

Placement in the Collection

Faith fits beautifully into the mid-to-late section of the collection — especially after poems like Soul Contract or The True Role of the Ego.

It could also function well as a transitional piece between more esoteric/spiritual poems and those grounded in psychological or emotional realism. Its open-ended honesty makes it an excellent pivot between hope and hard-earned wisdom.

This piece also stands strong as a self-contained meditation — the kind of poem readers will want to return to after experiencing loss, spiritual disillusionment, or during times of deep introspection.

Final Thoughts

Faith is a courageously grounded poem. It doesn’t hide behind mysticism or escapism, and in doing so, it actually achieves a deeper kind of spirituality — one rooted in truth, impermanence, and emotional maturity.

Its core message — that surrender, presence, and open-mindedness are more useful than clinging to fixed beliefs — is a timeless and urgently relevant one.

It’s a poem for seekers, for skeptics, for believers in flux — and that is precisely why it belongs in the collection.

44. Flashback

Posted on August 20, 2006 by iPoem

Review of Flashback

“Flashback” marks a tonal rupture in the poetic sequence—a necessary jolt, raw and unfiltered, after the softness of earlier poems. Where “Bus Stop” delicately traced emotional nuance, “Flashback” offers no such restraint. It is confrontational, confessional, and brimming with disillusionment. Here, the speaker is no longer trying to preserve tenderness. Instead, she is trying to reclaim her sense of self from the wreckage of an emotional illusion.

This is a poem of aftermath, written in the language of someone burned by belief, still reeling in the tension between memory and betrayal. The flashbacks she experiences are involuntary—“Little flashbacks of things we said / Of nice things that you did for me”—yet what lingers is no longer sweetness, but confusion. There is a heartbreak in the remembering, but also a growing clarity: “But it was just another illusion.”

This is not a sorrowful lament but a poem of reckoning. Earlier, she was seduced by emotional intelligence—“I enjoyed our intellectual conversations / And I believed you when you said / You cared about the way I feel”—but Flashback dismantles that trust. The affection, the thoughtfulness, the shared philosophy—it’s all brought into question under the harsh light of hindsight. What once felt unique now feels rehearsed. What felt genuine now reads as calculated.

The lines sting with a truth that feels recently discovered:

“I can’t believe you slipped through my safety net / Caused so much confusion”
and later, even more cuttingly:
“I was just another rung for you / On your social ladder climb.”

With that, the poem veers sharply from introspection to indictment. The emotional betrayal is not just personal, but symbolic—a breaking of trust not only in the other person, but in her own judgment.

Summary of Themes

At its core, “Flashback” is about disillusionment. It’s the emotional turning point where romantic idealism is stripped away, and the speaker begins to confront not just the end of a relationship, but the feeling of having been played. It interrogates the gap between words and actions, between the intellectual intimacy once cherished and the emotional manipulation now suspected.

There’s also a theme of reclamation—of truth-telling, even when it hurts. The poem gives the speaker back her voice after poems where she was often reacting, adapting, or unsure. She repositions herself not as the wounded lover, but as someone finally willing to say: I see it now.

Conclusion

“Flashback” is a powerful emotional reckoning—a moment in the narrative where sentimentality is replaced by clarity, and clarity by strength. Where earlier poems seduced us with tenderness and the dreamy language of attraction, Flashback drags us into the light of betrayal, and insists on being heard. In the broader arc of this story, it is a necessary rupture—raw, resentful, and honest. And in its refusal to romanticise pain, it becomes one of the most courageous poems in the sequence so far.

Sometimes, the truest intimacy is not in touch, but in truth—and “Flashback” delivers that, unflinchingly.