An intimate view...

great job, what station do we tune to to hear more ?

will you be my gaurdian? You can touch my gourd.

true as it gets= ================ ================= ================== ==========================================BR_N_ON

"Lying as close to her as space will allow, He puts his palm on her swollen belly, She shivers, rolling in to him, And her tears drench her pillow." why is she crying? "His kisses cover her neck and shoulders, All night through, until dawn, Their joy cannot be contained, Her eyes close as the sun rises." What is going on? are they making love? are they happy about the baby? did jesus suddenly come down and tell them they were having the second messiah? .. well? "Sometime, in the mid-afternoon, They rise together, sleepy-eyed, He cooks her breakfast like always, She sips her milk and just smiles." sips her milk? now i think the mother is the kid. im getting all confused. this isnt good, course everyone says im stupid, but i dont think im talking out of my ass here. "When it is time for the doctors, He will never leave her side," -how nice, cliche to the max. "He watches as his son takes his breath, And cradles his wife in his arms." -now they suddenly are at the hospital.. wow, time goes by fast. hes cradling his wife? is she the baby? or just very small? how does her husband manage this when she is on a hospital bed? "As the years go by so quickly, Their little family grows, She thanks the Lord daily, And Daddy does as well." "She" who? it takes me awhile to figure out thats its mommy your yappin about, and this ending sucks, its sugar coated cliche from hell. The title made me think it was a poem about a childs love for daddy or something, the beginning didnt manage to give me an overall understanding or sense of direction concerning where the poem is going to lead to. its all a jumbled mass of corny emotional goo that im sure you would get paid well for from hollywood producers. blessed with 3

what has changed?

but you came? and i agree with hh about the inversion.

A basterpiece of pre-coital yearning. 9.4536.

I was going to tell you that Bachus is going to tear this up, but I see I am too late.

I've had writers block for a bit(go figure) and my friend asked me to write some lyrics to her songs. I was writing it when my step mom came in. so I put it up with out finishing it...help!

indeed you did not. but it was nicely rendered. i won't vote, because we have no "transaltion" category, and this work is not your own.

Maybe it's because I haven't read Cervantes in a million years, but I don't get this. Why does the Don have a forked tongue? What was the act that no author can leave unpunished? The head's dignity & honor? (Are we looking at a bust? a statue?) Why is romance's face false to its nature--and what is its nature? Broad strokes but no defining features. What are you trying to say? And Cervantes is famous to this day, so how did he "surrender his quill to oblivion"?

I like this, Intransit. How about "his hair matted and gray" instead of inverting it--the rest of this is so straightforward that that line seems forced. Also, might want to make it a comma after "Jesus"--right now that dangly modifier means his hair has its face in hands.

haha

great job, i like your style, keep up the good work

Seen in this context it is interesting that we fear death of the illusion and do not fear the true death. The reason is functional: we cannot operate with constant fear The message is simple: John Donne for 2003

great job, loved it

I always enjoy what you select to present (even if it is not your own this time)

great poem, i like it

dude, you suck, that poem isn't even worth rating