Allow yourself perchance to dream
for seam upon seam of this world is unyielding
to all of our happenstance themes.
Call I a Jesus, who overseas dwells
in a world I cannot rightly say exists,
for although I persists in scavenging the horizons,
these are the things I have not laid eyes on
and so I’m too young to insist.
“Oh, wise man, cordially save me or with
frankincense please grave me in reality.”
We ask our neighbor for a cup of flour,
beg the stranger to deflower, and when life
turn bitter-sour, are unafraid to darken
doorsteps, sugar crystals too lackluster
and dreary to spark in.
Mister Messiah, and I, angel ordinary
whisper tides of truth:
“Children, life is extraordinary.”
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
I agree with bubbles and Cameron.
This seems a bit different from the rest of your work. I enjoyed it in a different way. Rhyme! My goodness! The rhyme isn't consistent, but the rhythm is amazing.
No punctuation? I think a few commas or something in that first phrase would help it flow better. bubbles said that the first line seemed a bit trite, and that may be true, but...hmm, I'm sort of fond of it. It gives the piece this whimsical, storytelling element.
I think the dream-theme rhyme sounds rather forced, though; I don't have any suggestions.
That last stanza just made my day. Nice stuff.
Colleen
A nice change. Some suggestions:
Allow yourself perchance to dream
for seam upon seam of this world is unravelling
to all of our happenstance themes.
Call me a Jesus, who overseas dwells
in a world I cannot rightly say exists,
for although I persist in scavenging the horizons,
these are the things I have not laid eyes on.
“Oh, wise man, save me or with
frankincense grave me in reality.”
We ask our neighbor for a cup of flour,
beg the stranger to deflower, and when life
turns bitter-sour, are unafraid to darken
doorsteps, sugar crystals too lackluster
and dreary to spark in.
Mister Messiah, and I, angel ordinary
whisper tides of truth:
“Children, life is extraordinary.”
Hi xanthan
I quite enjoyed this...just a few things:
Allow yourself perchance to dream
for seam upon seam of this world is unyielding
to all of our happenstance themes.
Mm. I'm not sure about this section. The first line seems trite to me, and leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Is there anything else you can say here? As for the second line, it reads awkwardly. The rhythm you have set up seems to require quite a quick, smooth reading, but this makes it choppy. I'd reduce the number of syllables in this line if possible. I like the last line though.
“Oh, wise man, cordially save me or with
frankincense please gave me in reality.”
"gave" me? Seems out of place.
Otherwise, though, I really like it, escpecially the last lines. Effective and evocative. Just a bit of polishing needed.
Cheers,
~bubbles