the blade cuts away the storm that pulls me down as i feel the ocean spill from the sky i don't need her as a friend her life is one of valour, mine is built on determination like the storm, believing his purpose, is in fact, to hum to us in his rumbly voice.
i can not go with them again steel and lighting will mark my grave if i let those two dear to my heart they may be and though there's no path i know better sometimes there just isn't anything to slay- and that's when they'll turn on me.
like i saw them do to that boy; charred toes the electricity chasing him, the storm's song like a waterfall down down down
Crashing into the river and rolling so loud that your ears start to mimic the rythem- i will not be that boy
I'm about to go to sleep here, just wanted to quickly say that you've used some really powerful metaphors here which really fit the poem, and I very much like the lightning chasing the boy down ^_^ Was the *trembles* related to the story content It could, I suppose :v Oh - you must fix that dreadful misspelling of rhythm
I've been rowing down this river a ways the water hurries me past the poison ivy hoping to release me into the wild
I lost my oars along the way I thought I saw one meandering over but when I touched it, the wood crumbled and tiny barbs rearranged the swirls on my fingertips
I thought this river would deliver me from the forest but I find myself in an ocean I remember a story about a man who drank the water the whole ocean and once he was finished? it seeped out his eyes, it seeped out his nose- water ozzed from his ears
I didn't think you could get lost in a canoe I thought I'd just follow the path but the river twist and shifts and pretty soon you're spun around and up-side down
and you didn't tell anyone where you were going because you thought you'd be okay, but now when you want to call for help no one's there
first and two poems--omnomnom water imagery! I love how 'down down down' forms an actual waterfall on the page (screen?), and the second poem really strikes a chord with me (g'aww, paddling alone<3 but that is how we grow, and learn, I suppose).
You have a really nice handle on flow. Great work!
Haha, yes the Candyland one is completely awesome XD, really a nice change from the rather odd and slightly disturbing Paddling. "and once he was finished? it seeped out his eyes, it seeped out his nose- water ozzed from his ears" really makes me feel uncomfortable XP, but that's a good thing, it shows that your poem has power. I thought the sentence with the barbs rearranging your finger swirls was good, but sounded a little awkward in my head as I was reading it. Magnificent change of scene with "I thought this river would deliver me from the forest but I find myself in an ocean", I love the way the words and imagery flow together so smoothly! It would be great in a song, if only I made songs with lyrics haha.
You've really got to get an online spell checker though - can I suggest grammarly? It fixes mistakes in real time for free :v
And thanks @TheDreadPirate! I have a spell checker on my laptop, but I've written most of these on my ipod which doesn't have a spell checker, and it was also early in the morning! XP
I frequent the pages locked in my skull the coding is smudged my memory won't recall when that happened or who's responsible
nibbles at the edges water-stains to the side the cover is dented- the image distorted I thought someone turned my brain into Jell-O but apparently it's suppose to look like- bubble gum meets gummy-worms
I would think it was worn from time if it weren't for the stitches below my eye
when I'm alone I waltz with the willows and scream at the highways of ants as they despair the lines in the side walk I do back flips and host picnics sending invitations to every bee who'd ever made dinner for me
sand paper grinding the back of my throat prevents me from saying the first "hello"
but when I'm alone I greet everyone with a cheerful thought and I make plenty of room for you in my mind
I feel like that's why silence steals me away from the gentlemen and the flocks of window-shoppers
he breathes, pulling me through each step his tempo is the rythm of the night sky it's ballerinas scattered across infinite blue- a blue so black you'd think it had bled from a murderers heart
tapping in time with the cat-calls rolling in his arms; a dance within a dance a shiver, tickling between silk and skin threatening my composure
haha.
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