Grey-blue, crystal air,
foot steps out of unison
marching up the hill.
The purple sky, bruised,
twisted hand at his forehead
in a frail salute.
Streaking flares remind
of white suited men who's finnal
breath was ocean.
White sunlight pierces,
gunshots of memory fade
as a last tear falls.
gone
-
Hidden-Spirit
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Apr 27, 2006 12:54 pm
- Location: One Day here, the next there...
I like the way you describe things 
Some scars don't show,
Some wounds don't heal,
Sometimes you can't see,
The pain someone feels.
Some wounds don't heal,
Sometimes you can't see,
The pain someone feels.
-
TheYoungOne
- Posts: 11
- Joined: Mon Apr 24, 2006 2:51 pm
- Location: St helens
'Purple sky, bruised,
his twisted hand at his forehead
in a salute.'
^^ In my opinion that stanza was the best part of the poem...
But I didn't understand the part were you said:
white suited men who's,
last breath was ocean
Why the last breath an ocean?
his twisted hand at his forehead
in a salute.'
^^ In my opinion that stanza was the best part of the poem...
But I didn't understand the part were you said:
white suited men who's,
last breath was ocean
Why the last breath an ocean?
good images and color usage.
Too many commas in this:
the flares, remind
of white suited men who's,
last breath was ocean.
It wouldn't take much to turn this into a collection of progressive haikus, the syllable count would be -
5
7
5
5
7
5
5
7
5
You have something close:
3
9
5
4
8
4
4
6
5
4
9
3
It's up to you...
- Caleb
Too many commas in this:
the flares, remind
of white suited men who's,
last breath was ocean.
It wouldn't take much to turn this into a collection of progressive haikus, the syllable count would be -
5
7
5
5
7
5
5
7
5
You have something close:
3
9
5
4
8
4
4
6
5
4
9
3
It's up to you...
- Caleb