replying on arise by daniella
16 Nov 2002, 8:40 PM
thank you very.
replying on Tupperware-Caskets by <{Baba^Yaga}>
4 Nov 2002, 6:38 PM
brilliant, both poem and god's wife's reply. would love to eat at your homes with my kids.
on Ten solid facts about -=Dark Angel=-, by his biggest palm frond, me. by horus8
4 Nov 2002, 6:35 PM
poetry wars have begun and i do believe horus has taken the first shot.
replying on Black Buns by Bachus
2 Nov 2002, 6:22 PM
no wonder it took so long to discover this one. but there you were blowing the wind in the worst list.
on Sun in my Middle by anitawit
2 Nov 2002, 6:20 PM
yes
on Three pointed star by INTRANSIT
2 Nov 2002, 6:16 PM
dont wanna be a purist, but, 6 beats on the last line...
on Never Alone at Night by Limness
2 Nov 2002, 6:13 PM
this longing throbs. the end line twirks a bit off line, but i can hear a heartbeat here.
on Of this Moment! by feathers68
2 Nov 2002, 6:09 PM
too many moments here.
on At the Bottom of a Well by phbiscuit
2 Nov 2002, 6:08 PM
deep at the bottom is where we poets draw a well-spring. keep digging while looking back up at the light.
on i dunno by New Life Drug
2 Nov 2002, 6:03 PM
oxymorons can work. writing about finding nothing to write about. leap out of the circle and show us.
replying on Stranger by feathers68
2 Nov 2002, 5:58 PM
meet bacchus. the whirling scurvish of a life gone so sour dog wild with pain he sleeps with the sisters Dementia and Pain.
on Here In The Heart of Amber by Lenore
30 Oct 2002, 2:53 PM
sounds like a hymn, here in the heart of amber...
on Poem Ranker by abecedarian
30 Oct 2002, 2:50 PM
who stole your shine?
on Jackanapes and smoke buttons by Bachus
30 Oct 2002, 2:33 PM
brilliantly lewd and gruesome. what wonders would become you if you could forge a smile.
on Living Conditions by Christof
29 Oct 2002, 7:33 AM
i know you are here, i can hear you breathing...
replying on Living Conditions by Christof
29 Oct 2002, 7:29 AM
frabbling good.
replying on A Christmas Far From by daniella
29 Oct 2002, 7:10 AM
xmas is just that, this ribbon wrapped shiny nothing hoping to be a song or even better a hymn, but is only what you make of it, dressed in what you can muster, even if it is only a forced smile.