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Any feedback on this poem is greatly appreciated. Also, I'd love to hear any title ideas you might have. Thanks!! :)


I’m almost afraid to see you because
when you’re not made of imagination,
you’re not mine anymore
and you have in your hands
everything I thought I knew,
with your divine, disconcerting unpredictability
knocking me off balance in your glance.
But you’re better like this, real,
the little threads of gray lacing your hair,
the unselfconsciousness in your walk –
you’ve always been as sure of yourself as water.
I get torn apart
in the singular grace of your smile,
in the way you’re not looking at me.
You fill me up with little tingly stars
(you always fill people up. It’s your way)
and then leave me flat, still hungry, breathless,
wandering in this courteous void you’ve left me.
I want you as a person,
not as a beautiful moving stranger,
not as a myth, not even as the vision
that comes to me at night,
but as what I’ve seen when you weren’t looking.
I am here now, alone,
humbled and waiting,
desperate and afraid to know you,
and you don’t know this,
and you don’t see me.




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Hey Ergo! Nice to meet you!
Now onto your poem~

I thought this poem was very beautiful, and definitely not your average love/yearning poem. I loved that! You used very good metaphors and established good imagery.

I would suggest making these into actual lyrics. Although, I don't know what you could call it...

Incorporating some figurative language in this poem would do it some glory.

Good job.

Peace, Love and Sugar Packets~
Forever Threnody
“One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes”
~ The Little Prince~




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Oh. My. God. That was absolutely beautiful. I could relate to it, and the way you wrote it was just fantastic. The first few lines grabbed me, and I was hooked until the end. Almost perfect.

Yes, almost. I never review a piece unless I have something to pick on, and I do. It's tiny though:

the unselfconsciousness in your walk –

you’ve always been as sure of yourself as water.


Not only is unselfconciousness not a word according to Firefox, it's also unwieldy. Perhaps confidence would do the trick?

Also, my left brain doesn't like "as sure of yourself as water". Last time I checked, water is a liquid that sloshes around and goes every which way. Maybe you meant like a river path or something? Or go for something more solid, like rock or earth. I like the idea, but it needs a different word there.

Aside from that, this was utter perfection! I haven't read something this good in a long time. :D Keep it up!
"You do ill if you praise, but worse if you censure, what you do not understand." Leonardo Da Vinci

<YWS><R1>




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Wow. This is something very unique, not any ordinary love poem. Like niteowl mentioned, it was something we all could relate to. I enjoyed this. Really.

Just one thing:

"the unselfconsciousness in your walk –"

I'd rather replace "unselfconsciousness" with another word. ^^ Well, it may just be me, but it doesn't really suit the line.

Overall, very good work. I look forward to more of your writing.
Keep up the good work!
Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.




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Thank you so much for the suggestions, Forever Threnody, niteowl and Lil_Pau! I really appreciate that you took the time to critique. :)




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This was, hmm, both beautiful and confusing. To explain both:

Beautiful: The theme here for being invisible is done in such a non-cliched way here. Amazing! You have some nice metaphors and you're describing more the daydream of somebody with a crush other then just wanting this person. About how it's better to be real then just in the imagination.

Confusing: For the same reason it's beautiful, it's confusing. Me, being my author-self, thought you were talking about a character in a story for the beginning. I read this poem over and realized you were talking about a person, and then I found this super-sweet.

But, I have an idea to make that less confusing. Go into those day-dreams a bit more, and how imagination measures up to reality. You don't have to do that, though. :) This is amazing the way it is. ^_^

Questions? Drop me a line.

~Rosey
A writer is a world trapped in a person— Victor Hugo

Ink is blood. Paper is bandages. The wounded press books to their heart to know they're not alone.




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First off, I agree with some of the others in saying that it wasn't your typical "mushy-love" poem that was written by a 14 year old. And that is extrememly refreshing. Secondly, I thought it was well put together, a brilliant description of feelings for another person, and a great poem.



*CLUCKING INTENSIFIES*
— Snoink