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Post by tomblillies on Aug 9, 2006 17:25:14 GMT -5
For the past while I have been stuck in a well. Ideas swirl onto paper, but hardly go past five stanzas. Some have an ending, and some are just fragments with dry imagery. Anyways, here are a few short poems. If somebody has suggestions or commentary, anything would be greatly appreciated.
-Dreams Ago-
A cynically grinning moon Laughs at the Nuces Of children at play Casting shadows of swingsets And crumbling stone chapels...
-Paint Thinner-
Sky-clad dirty walls exhibit In a fine arts display The story of a life In red and black...
-Untitled-
In a world Created by the word 'love' Scale matters not As dimensions twist and collide, Then burn...
-Untitled (again)-
Imprisoned in the highest tower of a stark twighlight attic He waits for you And casts a gaze To the waves on Glass of a dusty window Where rain drops drip In water torture And the sound of rain On falling shingles Whispers a dawn That never comes
-Untitled (yet again)-
Tar-black walls with velvet lining A crowds applause and empty rows The stage is set, the play in action Wasteland never speaks...
-Untitled-
Staring Into a pale plane of white washed wall... Alone for miles. Swept away in a current Of emotions that were never there Gazing blankly back to me From the bottom.
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Fariel
Crimson Soul
Dark shadows of Dreams
Posts: 93
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Post by Fariel on Feb 4, 2008 13:12:45 GMT -5
oh my, what phenomenal little fragments of lyrical brilliance! I especially enjoyed "Paint Thinner" and the first "Untitled".....the scream for completion! I think, if you can force yourself to write some more along the themes, of those to especially, which you've presented here you'll end up with several very nice pieces.
In "Paint Thinner", you could perhaps continue on to describe the life, or even the story of said life. keep the color imagery and include more textures and perhaps even a few sounds to ad interest. be careful not to over articulate it though, leave a bit to the reader's imagination.
"Untitled" (1) is requesting that you lead it down a continuing path of disintegrating dimensions with billboards of regeneration along the way for love. Let love be fleshed out a bit and redefined from its paltry linguistic parameters. Take it beyond just a word, translate it into lifestyle and action, and I don't mean sexuality. Keep tearing it apart so as to reveal the root of it, the truth of the thing itself. Let it's discovery be the end of your journey.
Keep writing, you've brilliant work here.
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