Critics on my poem.

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  • #26
honestrosewater
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arildno,
Maybe it's just because I'm tired and in a kind of vulnerable mood, but you just made me cry. And I rarely cry - and even more rarely admit to it. Seriously, I had to get a tissue.
 
  • #27
arildno
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I hope the tissue was big enough.
I'll take your post as a compliment, rather than trying to see your reaction as a version of what we all experience when exposed to Vogonic poetry..:smile:

So:
I'm glad you liked it.
 
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  • #28
honestrosewater
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arildno said:
I hope the tissue was big enough.
I'll take your post as a compliment, rather than trying to see your reaction as a version of what we all experience when exposed to Vogonic poetry..:smile:

So:
I'm glad you liked it.
Now that I've recovered, I realize it must have been an allergic reaction, because I don't cry. :cool: And I like it even more this morning.

Though I'm sure I will die alone! :cry: And all gray and flaky too! :cry: :cry:
 
  • #29
arildno
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honestrosewater said:
Though I'm sure I will die alone! :cry: And all gray and flaky too! :cry: :cry:
And I'm equally sure you won't!
 
  • #30
loseyourname
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A poem for everyone. No sugar, but sentimental nonetheless.

Learning to Dance

The creak of the gothic door is distant
as she sighs "I can't remember"
as if waking up from a dream.
Black spandex clings like an adoring mouth to her flooded-nile thighs.
The sway of her hips rolls tectonic shockwaves through
the creaking balls of my wrists,
memories jolting nerve-endings in electron ecstasy
as her fingernail slowly scratches my forearm.
Her skin is darker now, the color of a
champagne Cadillac fresh off the lot.
Siren hair dances down her face
like music-box ballerinas - visually, she truly is
the princess that she always thought she was.
The light of the full moon lays baffled in her corneas,
reflecting nothing but a blank stare;
the woman beneath me become a porcelain doll.
We spin together into headlong oblivion,
her banshee cries pounding my eardrums into submission.
After a while my bones ache and my muscles shed rivulet tears.
My eyes burn red in their sockets,
watching her tiny bare feet grip the hardwood,
unadorned and white like the teenage girl I used to
breathe in-sync with as we fell asleep together.
 
  • #31
arildno
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Not quite vogonian, loseyourname, but foul enough! :biggrin:
 
  • #32
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I did once sit upon a hill
In far off Laden Baudem Bill

when suddenly a fury of a wind did blow
and carried it the magic essence of Geimbaroo

And with it and upon the inhalation came a sudden psilo-celebration
Fantastic shapes and colours formed the likes of which could only be
the wondrous works of Geimbaroo.

So Up and Up and Up I flew until I broached the path of one large rather heavy shoe.
The boot this was of Sheik Abu.

With bellous roar and mighty resonation a wave transversed the medium of valium
and broke the steady tedium of air a particle alike with frosty core and lusty bite
a random sentence generator strangling cordy calculator oddly run-on wimpulator... of a phrase

emanated from the lad - and went it something like this:

I'll bet five frogs I can faster wink than any man deceased.

A what, I said? A frogging winker of a man thats quicker than a poison drinker?
Deny you pledge deny you vice deny you all the sanctity of this reprieve
if ever upon demon day you rape the moon and skulk away to cave
and run to river pourous home of fish, you are: a thinker.

To this the man did laugh, but blustered yet again that monstrous cacophonic symphony of reverberating trance.

Ah silly man, you're but a shrew!
Why.. don't you know?
Anything is possible for Sheik Abu.

And then, just then! The wind blew
 
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