...Past

This is the coldest hour
and you are my furnace.
You are standing here
before me—
with a long, accepting smile
across your dusky face.
The deliberate rays of your flames
try to reach to me—
with extended arms
and slow, hazy eyes.
I am looking
and waiting for you
to utter me a word.
A word—
to utter—
a nearby, familiar word—

but you are scrambling
in the darkness—
eternally searching—you do not know,
cannot understand
that it is slumbering here
in the chasm between us—
and that this word
may be the only thing
that leaves us both
here in the cold.

Comments & reviews · 2
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User avatar
Gadi.
Comment

OH MY GOODNESS

I haven't even finished watching the review and I want to give each one of you a big wet kiss. I feel like I'm more commenting on a youtube video right now than on my poem or a review. So this is weird.

User avatar
Snoink
Review
Snoink wrote a review · Sat Nov 29, 2008 10:41 pm

Gadi.!

We did a video critique of this poem, we being Sgt Salt and me, Snoink. First we read it out loud (which is a scary in itself) and then we commented on it! I know, exciting, isn't it? And we also compared your poem to this. So just watch it and, if you have any questions, just ask! And... um... my sister is kind of crazy.

Anyway!

http://revver.com/video/1348390/affilia ... e-of-pain/

Hope that helps! :D



The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance.
— Richard Price