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#1 (permalink) |
Upright
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A kid's poetry
I'll start off slowly, because I'm not sure of how much of my stuff I want to share.
I cut a hole in the floor Wielding my saber, a spade that hides me from the sun when the colors wash out and it's all backwards in black and white except for those terrifying shades of gray (grey) who feather feelingly beneath me He raises his hand to strike again and again the torn and battered bace of the brass nail goldly glittering in the hammer's harsh embrace slipping through the pine (lonely eyes can't wander glued in place) If you would have held it in your hand first- well- we all know that the crimson silk slips far more easily between the errant slivers of the rough pine box But it's probably too late for that As I reach out for the fleeing grays That aren't as frightening anymore Quicksilver streaking upward through fingertips Pressed against his eyes In one last, desperate attempt to see More to come, but if you don't like it, let me know and I'll leave well enough alone. |
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#2 (permalink) |
Illusionary
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Impressive.....very nicely done
these lines: That aren't as frightening anymore Quicksilver streaking upward through fingertips are inspired, and in my opinion, made the work complete. Please continue to post.
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Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha |
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#3 (permalink) |
Drifting
Administrator
Location: Windy City
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I would second the please continue .. your style is unique and makes for very enjoyable reading. Welcome to Tilted Lit
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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna |
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Tags |
kid, poetry |
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