My first, immediate response is three words: What the fuck. There's obviously something behind your forehead, pushing hard to be heard, but it isn't coming out clearly yet--misused words make static: "stigmata" is, for instance, a mystical "miracle" involving having ones hands and possibly side "bleed" with wounds like those traditionally suffered by Jesus on the cross appearing on an individual's body--often during a trance. St. Theresa was one individual rather more afflicted than otherwise by this "miracle." And... if you're suffering from fermentation, some coffee might do you good. I really feel some significance building up beneath the haze, there, man. Let clarity and lucidity rule where they fit--don't be afraid to edit.

I feel uncomfortably voyeuristic here, but I guess at least you've achieved your purpose. That's a good thing.

good rhythm, good rhyme. Go Jamaican Bobsled team!

L3S4 should be caught as the rst of the poem is in the past tense, and in dire risk of repeating myself this morning I will suggest that the use of punctuation is normally considered beneficial when included within the written form of the English language, that is assuming you are trying to communicate with someone other than your own subconcious.

I was just reading in T.E. Lawrence that a plot by the Lebanese cognescenti to overthrow Turkish rule was foiled when the Turks discovered a ton of correspondence describing the plot lying around in the French Embassy, and had the entire educated part of Lebanon hung. This poem's not bad. Rhetorical question: How many forgotten artists do you know?

I mean no offense when I tell you that the first sentence to come into my mind when I read this was, "What in The Hell?" I'm gonna go to bed and read this again in the morning. See what shakes off the tree then.

The message is clear... the poem lousy...

Sorry, but I've never had a dream about loving someone I hated while awake. Some clever lines.

when people move their verbs to accomodate a rhyme. I of Yoda think.

this one is a bit different than my other ones!!

'As the bones of the artist molder on, forgotten.' well, there is this german physician, Gunther von Hagens, who puts these 'plastinated' bodies on display. His expositions have caused quite a stirr; but is it art? Would it be art when these bodies were the bodies of artists? Anyway, you can take a look at his works at http://www.bodyworlds.com/

I think the first part is nice. The second could be much shorter. The moment you start to talk about the 'you', everything's allready in the open. There is going to be a cosmic distance between the two. So keep it short. You might even expand in the first part, up to a ridiculous magnitude, bombarding the reader with facts and numbers. Getting more and more desparate. Get into an astronomical frenzy. Speed up the pace. And then shrink it to the size of a walk with the dog, compared to the distance between you and your goodbye lover. If you gotta be corny, you better go all the way.

Good adult story too. The rhythm is so good in most of it that those lines that break it really stand out. For example, "Later that day, cooking the evening meal," leave out "evening."

Not so for the egg this bird will someday lay, but we all say that is some way. Peck, peck.

Could be said in half the words and be stronger.

It seems the title is wrong because it's about her, what she did.

As a prayer it seems a little vague as to what is actually wanted.

I would agree with Dovina

I am sorry to say this made no sense to me at all.

But it doesn't say anyhting that hasn't been said a thousand times before, and it offers nothing in the way of beautiful language or memorable structure.