Poetry Forum

Hi Jester. Basically it's about suicide, my vision of it.

Thank you for your comment.

Sleep further due South, where cicadas whisper. Ground gives warmth to trees, leafs and hitchhikers beside the highway. That becomes cold and thick in the night. Like blood out of an unexpected wound. Knock further due North before flesh and bones appear in the doorway. Deaf for the spring blind for...

Yes I've been reading Walt Whitman for a long time.
I know it might be chaotic but I wanted to get opinions in order to improve.

Thank you very much Camus.

Noiseless, little spider stood right there where I’d like to go. Where I’m busy, crazy or just plain happy and next to everything. You must consider that I won’t speak for months. Maybe because I’m reading old letters, facing the mirror contemplating thoughts that do not concern you my dear. I’m hav...

First of all I'll explain that this piece is about a break up, losing love and sense of everything. Of course that's the way I saw it when I wrote. If it has any other meaning for someone else then that's even better. Because I didn't have any background on this I had to read between the lines. So b...

There’s black coffee and white sheet. Timeless tie and the new trend. Wind by the river and hair of the scalp. Pianos are silenced and dreams have no rush. It’s half past midnight and five minutes too late. Thoughts inbox slowing down their pace. What is a fly on the window to the mood? Like a gap i...

thanx a lot. I'm still working on it.

The children are gone. Too old to look over the shoulder. At the railway. To dismantle the giant stone into a little rock you could throw. Make waves on the surface of the puddle. And still wish for an ocean. I have a game with no pieces and rules. Shades of grey like a five day stubble on my face. ...

If that moon meant anything to you I’ll go from waiting for to not wanting from you. A pulse, a beat or a squeaky clean conscience. If you nudity was a metaphor I’ll say that your back, your arms and your legs hold a firm line with a very welcoming texture of your skin. No matter the street you alwa...

Here they were - my father used to say - those rays. X of them. And they escaped the sun as if the could actually run. I stood still. Not quite old, yet fairly known. It rained once upon a hill not that far away. But it rained by the rules. Excluding old houses, the church and veterans. And those ra...

thank you both very kindly.

When the moon and women march under their umbrellas. I’m amazed by their eyelashes their cheeks and everything about the taste of turmeric that I can’t disclose. Yet you know because my eyes shine like a lemon cut in half. They whisper. Head explains silence to my hands. You arrive but I’m not ready...

Don’t get philosophical on me, dear. Let’s not go that way. Let’s mishappen instead. Let’s get numb. Stand in awe for the pastel essence of winter. Let’s not take it for granted. Just once. Don’t base our belief on the basic content of my madness. Guess I’ll never learn what Jaspers told. So many wo...

Wow! Sorry there. I don't know why I read You as Cameron.

Pardon.

And thanx for the comment:)

I thanked for his comment. And "Bóg zapłać" is basically "God bless"

thanx cameron

Bóg zapłać

No offence but it didn't give me anything to chew on. It sounds like few cliches enumerated in verses. Just not my type I think.

Thanx for the read.

for me it starts here: "Fumbling with a newspaper, he fashioned a parcel for his pocket, and stumbled, happlily mumbling, onto the chaos of the pavement. A stubbled smile was a greeting that most folk avoided, like bodily contact or eye impact. Fear of contagion bent their paths, skewed their e...

Dear Ray. I think it's a good material for a good poem but seems overloaded with cliches such as the first stanza. That would be good for a song but it doesn't match the good idea behind this piece. The second and last stanzas are great. I would advise you to take them as a determinant for the rest ...

The second stanza is in my opinion the best. The rest isn't bad but sometimes seems a bit repetitive to me. Overall not bad but I think you should make something out of the 2nd stanza. It's the most interesting. In my opinion.

Thanx for the read.

Witam.

It's more of a adaptation of my poem (written in Polish).

And it is a kind of a homage to Cummings. I'm under his influence lately.

Pozdrawiam.

tries to untangle the conversation. with me. the wicked boy far beyond the pylons. there in the rain. here waiting for my father to arrive (so we could go back to all the things we used to do together) or to sing with his Dylan toned voice. sounding so only within the silence in my head. maybe he co...

camus wrote:Ewan,

I don't think you're taking the feedback seriously, why keep posting without punctuation? it's just goddam wrong.

Experimenting with Cummings' style a lot:)

Thanx for comments guys

Always three minutes late running for that bus Which materializes frustrations of a goal I've never had All the more dear it seems for love to have forgotten the way her lips break open and how thoughts are shaped Still not all matters equally For me late fall means saying farewell to the leaves dis...

A bit pompous and melodramatic for me. I can't find anything for me in it. It's decent but doesn't have that spark if you know what I mean.

Thanx for the read