DetailsThe poem, its numbers, and the conversation.

dancing to be flowers

Member since 2002 · Posted 16 Apr 2003 · 4 comments

As the light begins to creep over, The cracked rim of a mountain And the slow hail of bark Beats a clock All the sentients come to Among the bit part percussions And recognise the day from Many similar Watching as the sun flatters Its reflection in rivers And on blonde buttercups Turned away from the graves Not honoured just weathered Slow in the long time Just facing the wide sky And dancing to be flowers

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mean 8.60 weighted 6.80 rank 391 views 285 View voting details →

10 votes so far. Yours would make 11.10 votes so far

4 comments

[7] princesszoe 21-Apr-03/10:56 PM Reply

nice images. a little obtuse?

[10] horus8 22-Apr-03/12:05 AM Reply

Yes, obtuse (one of those words we all learn in math and toss around later at frat parties as a sign of intelligence and breeding ability) but know, look it up. this poem is hardly obtuse. Scattered, symbolically riddled and a bit cryptic (just a tad) but not obtuse. Nice cleavage by the way, i pulled a load off to um last night and lost not a beed to bargain.

[9] daniella 19-May-03/5:45 PM Reply

you have a sweet way of bringing that wee bit of light in, just enough to clear the haze of darkness shrouding the landscape. love just dancing to be flowers.

[n/a] -=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 19-May-03/6:10 PM Reply

well it started badly, tailed off a little in middle, and the less said about the end the better. Apart from that, I loved it!

ace / 10