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Post by Aish on Dec 25, 2011 16:48:55 GMT -5
Stars do not destroy themselves in one burst of fiery gold flame, twinkling to be buried in the hands of God.
Instead fire fingers creep to the edges like jars humming with electric karma lottery for an obsessive compulsive.
The dark face of night is a wild drink of soft precious amber and ripe rose; sublime magnetism created the Temple of the first kiss of love with secret incandescent dreaming,
magic
and the tribe of silver meadows of the moon.
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Post by RisYerg on Dec 26, 2011 11:16:44 GMT -5
Hello, lady!
I'd say - "You should write poems" - but you write them yet. I'd say - "They are beautiful" - but it can see any who read them. I say - it's GREAT! R.Y.
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Post by Aish on Dec 27, 2011 1:25:20 GMT -5
Thank you so much
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Post by Swindle Sheet on Jan 4, 2012 20:17:28 GMT -5
Good work. For some reason, S2L3 reminds me of the beat writers. I think this poem is talking about the origin of the universe, but even if it is not it is still a cool poem.
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Post by Veritas on Jan 6, 2012 15:22:09 GMT -5
Cat's got my tongue... But this piece... Flawless... It on one hand demonstrates the true purpose of metaphore as well as the humans power to step outside itself, and the walls of its reinforced reallity... It is bold in its scope to tell a story far greater than comprehension will allow. ..
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Post by LonelyForsaken on Jan 7, 2012 23:42:05 GMT -5
The encompassing feeling I get is that of death and destruction making room for birth and renewal but there is so much more that is connected to this simple summation. You thread the connecting tendrils in artistic expression in a way I feel few could have ever matched. Perhaps no other ever has with such method of “Magic.”
I am moved.
I hesitate to suggest any change but I do want to read the ending slightly differently; “and the tribe of silver meadows of the moon.”
I realize how it changes the meaning and perhaps this is just me.
Thank you. :-)
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Post by _black phoenix_ on Jan 9, 2012 20:07:12 GMT -5
I need to come back to this... It feels really choppy and all over the place. I think my heads just in a weird place.
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urchin
Crimson Soul
Who needs hope when you are willing to stare at fate and stop this crusade?
Posts: 85
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Post by urchin on May 3, 2012 13:23:20 GMT -5
The imagery in this is flawless. Great poem.
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Post by deranged85 on Jun 18, 2012 21:43:52 GMT -5
beautiful. such wonderful imagery.
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Post by shamefulsean on Jun 26, 2012 14:47:55 GMT -5
Its a very interesting write, in that got from it, less poetry and it seems more like a transition line in a book by a very frantic author experiencing a moment of sublimity. I feel it being choppy as well but, in a way, refined, like sawdust might be. I would keep working on this Aish but, do not take from it, just manipulate.
Shame
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