Free verse № 8832
Thorns
Nothing is spoken.
The door is simply shut.
The television gasping for clarity
is switched off,
allowing the room to offer itself
to moonlight.
Breathing seems amplified,
air cold and indifferent and
all matter lay dead in
the shifting darkness.
We are equal in blackness.
Shadows separate across the bed
reaching for trousers and nightgown,
the clumsy religion of cowering to
cover what is not concealed.
I could say something,
that is my right but they
did not expect me so soon and there
are things they need to talk about.
So I open the door
take a last look at the
living room furniture,
the Titian imitation on the wall
and leave my house.
30 comments
to moonlight" so pretty.
You are a bigger whiner than anyone could have ever imagined. What is wrong with the poem? You said nothing to that extent. Break it apart; attack it with intelligence not stupidity, you fuck. That is what I am saying. You have nothing constructive whatsoever to say. You think you are clever; you are just stupid. Simple as that. Say something relevant. And although there is a Kansas City, Kansas, I live in Misery. So, find something worthwhile to come up with regarding that state. Your ramblings on Kansas make you sound inept. Write poetry. That is all anyone is asking.
Either I hang out in the wrong pubs, or quit going to clubs long ago but I guess I don't see all that many goth folks so I am not sure what sort of definition they would have today. When I was a wee lad, they listened to the cure, wore eyeliner, spiky hair (you know, hey my adolescence was in the 80s) and bemoaned the world against them. Still hold true in 2002?
"Cry not, my baby.
Cry.
I know a frog ate a white moth.
The frog did not cry.
That's why he's a frog.
The moth did not cry.
My baby, cry not. Cry.
There is much to do.
I will cry too.
I will cry for you.
Stan Rice, Some Lamb 1975..
I feel I am improving as a writer, more experimental and I believe you must selectively read the good and ignore the bad and let it inspire you.
What about you ?
By the way my brother's gone AWOL last I heard he was state side.
Great poem - seriously.
a rare 10
Up to we are equal in blackness is a poem in itself. It saddens me that your the one person who would never have one positive thing to say about any of my poems, not one.
I really liked this poem and you can say what you will of mine.
I would however repsectfully ask you to read my poem 'The Blooding' or 'The Grave' and tell me what you liked and what you didn't like.
Thank You
Antony
---------------9
don't fuck with me. i am an advocate.
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