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Literature Text
Poetry is:
the adhesive to
a fragmented soul;
broken wings that still dream of
F L Y I N G
how snapdragons breathe stardust
and orchids perform ensembles.
when 'imagination' and 'reality' at last discover a
c r o s s r o a d s,
and rush to embrace one another with fervent limbs.
why gravity seems to f
a
l
l, taking the world with it.
what flows through the veins of every pair of [shipwrecked; star-crossed] lovers.
who I am; who I was; and who I want to be.
Literature
reasons why I don't fly away
above half-hearted streetlights and industrial flooding
and vague misinterpretations, I cut
a little too deep.
it always comes to this; hungry shivers,
dry voices, heavy breaths as your eyes
fixate upon a set point in the distance
which you label as happiness, a nirvana
in plain view but too far
for your rubber legs to take you there.
back then we were theorists developing
a new frontier; we were two dreamers,
two corpses on a collision course in
the desperate season. you warned me
there weren’t enough words to say
beautiful; as it turns out, we
were a slip of the tongue.
I woke this morning
a butterfly. you would like
the sun po
Literature
The Real Writers
The Real Writers:
There are those who sit with their laptops and tablets,
Clothed in a scarf and an artistic hat of some sort.
They ponder; leaving a stack of books beside them,
Sipping their decaf as though they are literature personified.
Posers...
What works do they prepare, other than blatant copies,
Perhaps a half-baked romance designed to woo a lady.
So convinced are they, of their own aptitude;
They are blinded by the beams of their burgeoning ego.
For the writer is not the man who is tapping away at keys,
He is not the man fervently reading with lensless glasses.
He is not the hipster debating ancient literature.
For he is a monst
Literature
Poets have the loneliest hearts.
I drink morphine
like peach tea;
down 6 pills by morning
just to keep my mind
filled up
with nothing.
& I know I can go days
without speaking a word
but-
I want a moon shy girl
with wolves at her back,
bite mark ankles &
a bottle of writer’s tears
tucked under one arm.
I want to be end of the war
kisses bruised into her hipbones;
the epilogue written over her
tiger-striped skin.
With these wisteria limbs
February cold, &
these weak lungs
exhaling coralline whispers,
I’ve got a tongue for words
but still have no idea how to love
a universe girl.
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Now that I've grown more comfortable with poetry, I realize just how important it's become in my life. And I realize that in a sense, it's always been important to me. As has writing. Poetry is just one big step in my "literary career."
So. This is what poetry is for me.
I wanted to play around with formatting a bit more since I'm still trying to develop some sort of "style," so this was fun.
One of the few pieces I am requesting critiques on, since this is also a piece that is extremely relevant and meaningful to me. Though it may not be as well-structured as some of my other pieces.
So. This is what poetry is for me.
I wanted to play around with formatting a bit more since I'm still trying to develop some sort of "style," so this was fun.
One of the few pieces I am requesting critiques on, since this is also a piece that is extremely relevant and meaningful to me. Though it may not be as well-structured as some of my other pieces.
© 2013 - 2024 lupus-astra
Comments42
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Overall
Vision
Originality
Technique
Impact
Lovely, and with excellent flow. I like how you italicized some of the words, and the style in which you wrote them. Your vision was flawless.
However, I've seen many other pieces similar to this, which brings the originality down a bit. Still, that does not effect the beautiful vocabulary you incorporated into it. I adored the imagery as well.
You technique was quite good as well, I must say, though it wasn't perfect. Honestly, there isn't much wrong with this poem at all. It's an excellent piece, and it does an wonderful job of defining the word "Poetry".
Excellent work!