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Literature
I Saw Us Dying
I saw him drowning
And I pretended to reach out
I saw his light burn low
And I pretended I was lost
God dreams that He is loved
And we dream that we love Him
The sea cares naught for dreams
And in it, I saw him drowning
I saw her burning
And I pretended that I cried
I saw her eyes glaze over
And I pretended that I cared
Earth dreams that she is loved
And we dream that we love her
The fire doesn't care for dreams
And in it, I saw her burning
I saw them dying
And I pretended that it mattered
I watched them breathe their last
And pretended my heart bled
We dream that they love us
And they dream we love them
But we don't car
Literature
The Later that Killed
Last week we took a walk along the pebbly beach
where waves bit our heels, starved whippets
dark with wet.
The sloe-eyed sun was peering out from behind bar and
showing thin slants of brilliance. It was a numinous day.
There were sharp jagged rocks lining the shore—you took
one, drove it into the highways of my body, rollercoaster
red looping like a boneless dance
or clover interchange.
Your hands, at the steering wheel: steady stone. The naked
knees and loose lips were all aquiver.
The tide was shivering, silvering
we clothed ourselves in blue and little else.
I warned, "you'll make yourself sick."
Now I have hurt your
Literature
get me dead.
i'm the girl that wishes -
not for anything good, of course -
just that she could sit in the dark
for the rest of eternity,
bleeding crimson onto the keyboard
as she types away dead poetry.&she's the bad dream
you can't wake up from.
no matter how many times
you tell yourself it wasn't real,
it's always in the back of your mind,
haunting you from the shadows.&she'll take the rest of her antidepressants
just to escape from the thoughts -
the thoughts of you breaking her heart,
even though she knows you never will.¬hing she says is poetic;
no, that's not what's expected.
and you can't shock people,
because that's when they st
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Well, here's the poem I wrote around my granddad's funeral, a month and a day ago. RIP Opa Ad 
If you comment please keep it about the deviation and the poem alone. I did not post this to get sympathy. If you really want to say something about the event itself I'd rather you direct it to my journal. Thanks
I do welcome critique and comments about the poem itself so please tell me your honest opinion.
(Submitted under Fixed Forms because of the sense of meter and rhyme and such (and yes, the couple of times I broke them were intentional). Not sure if the form has a name but I use it all the time so it's a fixed form for me at least
and at least I know that it's in ternary form
)
If you comment please keep it about the deviation and the poem alone. I did not post this to get sympathy. If you really want to say something about the event itself I'd rather you direct it to my journal. Thanks
I do welcome critique and comments about the poem itself so please tell me your honest opinion.
(Submitted under Fixed Forms because of the sense of meter and rhyme and such (and yes, the couple of times I broke them were intentional). Not sure if the form has a name but I use it all the time so it's a fixed form for me at least
and at least I know that it's in ternary form)Namenotrequired
Under Creative Commons Licence
Under Creative Commons Licence
Comments113
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Overall Vision Originality
Technique ImpactWow! This really stuck out to me as a very true piece of art when reading!
The words are very impressively to the point - appearing like a mixture of the "random" (not so random of course if you perceive them as an expression of personality) choice of expressions that come to your mind like a feeling, and those words that seem so attentively chosen - such as "everlasting smile" or the wonderfully broad-minded fourth stanza.
The point is, no matter which words or kind of form this is using, the point of view and the stream of thought are very clear and very comprehensible! You really get to feel your own little chasm from your own last loss and still this poem is full of hope and confidence.