you may find, my poetry is different to many others. i break rules, i hate with a passion, poetry that is simply a few beautiful, but overused words, to describe a sunset - yes, perhaps the poem has depths, layers of meaning (trust me, i went on a course about layers of meaning) but still, it does not appeal to me as much as poetry, that just makes you think "what the f-." i like complex words, i like weird layouts - poetry is a verbal art, but for centuries we have recorded it - the layout is actually intended, as when you read it out, it speeds up, slows down, breaks through, etc. perhaps you don't like it this way, but i do. a lot of people don't like, nor understand my poetry, however, i am proud of it, because to me, it describes everything - the complexity is pretty much my emotions, my thoughts - always muddled, always confused and ALWAYS complex.
yes, the words porcelain, virgin, kiss, sweet, sleeve, heart, etc are all meant to be overused, its not that i couldn't think of other words for it - its meant to be emphasized, and overused, when its read aloud, it sounds better - it echoes.
virgin kiss.
porcelain doll, heart strewn sleeve,
pastel cheeks,
delicate, whispers,
whilst, pondering on that
virgin kiss that
tasted so sweet,
or at least i... think
about you, and me, and
that kiss so sweet, the grasp on
reality.
no kiss so sweet, no you but me,
no porcelain doll, that
virgin love never kissed me,
but bit my delicate heart strewn sleeve,
on the porcelain doll that slipped from my hand,
the virgin kiss that took a miss-
ed the chance, to grasp that delicate doll,
porcelain doll, still with the virgin
kissed goodbye, to the heart on her sleeve and
SMASHED, her porcelain lips,
and pastel cheeks,
evidence lay there, the heart loose on her sleeve,
but still left at the scene, along with her lips,
in shards to small for an aberrant boy's kiss.
fractured bones, porcelain lips, smashed without your virgin kiss.
.
