poemranker ::no title by Dovina

DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

Haiku № 156479

no title

Member since 2004 · Posted 21 Jan 2009 · 4 comments

shriek of a wounded bird wingless shards on hardwood floor he bumped another wineglass

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mean 6.33 weighted 5.16 rank 5135 views 241 View voting details →

3 votes so far. Yours would make 4.3 votes so far

4 comments

[5] nentwined 27-Feb-09/5:54 AM Reply
:heh: I had some trouble with the transition from 1 to 2; and 3 felt somewhat cheap.
[4] Aetius 7-May-09/1:17 PM Reply
On rare occasions, your ability to write almost manages to break through into something you've posted here.
[10] Prince of Void 30-Sep-09/2:42 PM Reply
Her words soared and fell down deep inside the blue surface, Then her dreams made it move, Along waves of lights and breeze To embrace The infinity of her beauty That made me a dream of meadows and cornfields in the canvas of her words I will wait under the shade of those words, Till I hear her enchanted voice Till I see her sun rise again Till I talk to her moon to bring her dreams back to my shore
[n/a] Dovina › Prince of Void 3-Oct-09/5:04 PM Reply
Good day, fair Prince. Long nights and cold have I endured here in the tower. They no longer pass, those friendly voices, those noble horsemen with whom I consorted in their passing. But now thou hast called to me, and thy words are fresh and comely. How I wish for their return and your staying comfort. For the way it was, I long. And that the void were not so broad.