When browsing through this surprisingly interesting site, a rather sad fact was brought to my attention: I could not find one comment, question, or otherwise significantly sized statement written by a user in which any of the basic rules of grammar and word placement were properly utilized. I was suddenly compelled, in a lightening-like flash to become the only bitter and or cynical advisor who had a justifiable reason to be cocky and detached. And then, in an instant, I tripped over a radioactive bucket of waste that may have been a friend of mine and became ‘Angst Ridden Teen Who is Conveniently Masked by The Internet’! Now equipped with super bitchifying glowing lasso action!
Gender: Female
Member Since: July 11, 2004
Answers: 47
Last Update: July 27, 2004
Visitors: 3447
|
| |
An etched out poem reread,
Many times crumbled and then smoothed.
Can this truly capture how I feel?
My words seem so far removed.
How can I define this feeling I get
At every accidental touch?
This energy, this passion,this undescribable lust
The most desirable and beautiful rush.
Words are far to capricious,
They die after being written down.
I need something with substance with truth,
Something with validity and sound.
A kiss can speak a thousand words
Even poets can not define.
So kiss me now so I can remember
All the things I wanted to say, but couldn't find.
(link)
| |
That's a very nice poem. Your format reminds me much of my own...sadly though, the best poetry spawns from extreme pain, as I'm sure you know. I am not sure what to say, because the poem could be interpreted in several different ways, however I have a strange statement for you: I hope most of your reasons for writing fantastic poetry will soon die out, excepting the one kind of passion that isn’t painful while it lasts. Good luck.
|
|
Rating: 5
|
Even your response to my poem was poetic. I'm honored to have such an amazing reply. Thank you, very much.
May I please read some of your own works?
|
|