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Literature Text
The brilliance of the setting sun
Is captured, held tight
By the surface of the pond-
Dark and unknown
Beneath its reflection.
Tranquil beneath its stuttering gait,
Encompassed by thick woodlands,
And guarded by strong-armed branches
That wave at all passing by
With their feathered, individual leaves.
A ghost of a little girl-
Scraped knees, bird’s nest of tangled hair.
Laughing, bare feet pounding in tune
Across fallen logs and exposed roots
Flitting in and out of sight
As she traverses
Her little forest kingdom.
Hidden are her special stones
Plucked from the depths of the pond
And piled in hidden nooks
With woven grass crowns-
Calm, mosaic nests.
Such was the land I used to know
My boyhood, etched into every stone
Of this forgotten pond,
Now muddled with dirt.
I still see that last sunset
Emblazoned into the weathered fabric
Of the inside of my eyes
.
.
.
My fingers tiptoe-
Miniature stepping stones
Emanating ripples.
The glass of the surface-
So strong, so fragile-
Shatters at my touch.
Is captured, held tight
By the surface of the pond-
Dark and unknown
Beneath its reflection.
Tranquil beneath its stuttering gait,
Encompassed by thick woodlands,
And guarded by strong-armed branches
That wave at all passing by
With their feathered, individual leaves.
A ghost of a little girl-
Scraped knees, bird’s nest of tangled hair.
Laughing, bare feet pounding in tune
Across fallen logs and exposed roots
Flitting in and out of sight
As she traverses
Her little forest kingdom.
Hidden are her special stones
Plucked from the depths of the pond
And piled in hidden nooks
With woven grass crowns-
Calm, mosaic nests.
Such was the land I used to know
My boyhood, etched into every stone
Of this forgotten pond,
Now muddled with dirt.
I still see that last sunset
Emblazoned into the weathered fabric
Of the inside of my eyes
.
.
.
My fingers tiptoe-
Miniature stepping stones
Emanating ripples.
The glass of the surface-
So strong, so fragile-
Shatters at my touch.
Literature
Tell me how
Tell me how
you can cause me
to turn red at a single phrase
Tell me how
you can cause me
to even forget my name.
Tell me how
you can cause me
to trip over my words
Tell me how
you can cause my
heart to be stirred.
Tell me how.
Because m'dear
Literature
A Haiku
Light well past Midnight
full moon glow, lamp post bright, or
Netflix Marathon
Literature
The Truth
I think sleeping rough is underrated
When I'm sleeping next to you
I had five plans for university
But no intent of following though
I always say I hate being touched
But when it's you I'm lying
I often say I'm giving up
But for you I'm always trying
You demanded that I say it
Told me to 'pinky promise'
But I've been lying for years
And it's hard to just be honest
When you asked 'what can I do
To make you smile again?'
I'd already asked too much so
I just told you to pray
Because I'm terrified of us
If I tell the truth
Because we're a lot to each other
But you're everything to her
Suggested Collections
Two different formats here, all neatly packaged into one poem! Crystalline and Ekphrasis.
Two Crystallines (short, 17 syllable English version of a haiku) and one long Ekphrasis (a vivid description of a scene.)
I'm not usually one for poetry, so tell me what you think!
Two Crystallines (short, 17 syllable English version of a haiku) and one long Ekphrasis (a vivid description of a scene.)
I'm not usually one for poetry, so tell me what you think!
Comments8
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I'm a big fan of paradoxes, or all things similar. The idea of a sun being brilliant and bright but dark and unknown underneath its surface is wonderful, very mysterious.
I'd just say that beginning with the sunset, well I don't think it's too unique, so there's a slight lack in the "intro hooks the reader" part.
There was something a little off with the line "shivering but yet tranquil", and I really think it is "but" and "yet" next to each other. Maybe tweak it just a tad, also, a comma afterward would be nice since you are sort of listing descriptions, know what I mean?
The second stanza was a decorative metaphor, in my mind, comparing the trees to soldiers...I love that. It was only hindered by what I pointed out before, I think that could help it flow more if it were fixed! (:
Third stanza - wonderful imagery. Nothing extraordinary, if you don't mind me saying so, but all together it actually feels woven...like a bird's nest.
The "ghost" is giving me flashback feels.
I really, really, liked the fourth stanza as well. There's not much I see anymore that needs fixing, the ending really left off strongly, I thought. I'm sure you probably did this intentionally but the alliteration was a nice touch, I can just hear the words... yeah, the first and last lines of that stanza sound so simple and beautiful.
Now, the rest is really intriguing. Plot-wise, the narrator is the most interesting thing in the poem; it seems like he has quite the story.
"the weathered fabric/of the inside of my eyes", that line is going to stay with me.
You are a better poet than I am!.
The way you divided this with the periods added a nice visual effect - I imagined drops of water falling.
I just noticed it said "fingers", not "toes". That's a little odd, but I feel like it was intentional and part of the story. Like I said before, really interesting.
The end got me thinking about how strong the narrator's "touch" is. Maybe they have broken other things important to them before. Maybe they are unaware of their power until that moment.. I feel like this has more than one layer to it. It's not complicated, but it's not shallow, and that's very nice. Good job for poetry! ^^
I'd just say that beginning with the sunset, well I don't think it's too unique, so there's a slight lack in the "intro hooks the reader" part.
There was something a little off with the line "shivering but yet tranquil", and I really think it is "but" and "yet" next to each other. Maybe tweak it just a tad, also, a comma afterward would be nice since you are sort of listing descriptions, know what I mean?
The second stanza was a decorative metaphor, in my mind, comparing the trees to soldiers...I love that. It was only hindered by what I pointed out before, I think that could help it flow more if it were fixed! (:
Third stanza - wonderful imagery. Nothing extraordinary, if you don't mind me saying so, but all together it actually feels woven...like a bird's nest.
The "ghost" is giving me flashback feels.
I really, really, liked the fourth stanza as well. There's not much I see anymore that needs fixing, the ending really left off strongly, I thought. I'm sure you probably did this intentionally but the alliteration was a nice touch, I can just hear the words... yeah, the first and last lines of that stanza sound so simple and beautiful.
Now, the rest is really intriguing. Plot-wise, the narrator is the most interesting thing in the poem; it seems like he has quite the story.
"the weathered fabric/of the inside of my eyes", that line is going to stay with me.
You are a better poet than I am!.
The way you divided this with the periods added a nice visual effect - I imagined drops of water falling.
I just noticed it said "fingers", not "toes". That's a little odd, but I feel like it was intentional and part of the story. Like I said before, really interesting.
The end got me thinking about how strong the narrator's "touch" is. Maybe they have broken other things important to them before. Maybe they are unaware of their power until that moment.. I feel like this has more than one layer to it. It's not complicated, but it's not shallow, and that's very nice. Good job for poetry! ^^