Monologue

[pseud]

Keep your virgin heart
beneath a creaking floor board.

Ever pure, meet me by
the crack beneath your locked door:

and there I'll be
scratching love notes in the painted wood.

[Dawud]

I enjoy your poetry but to be honest its a little beyond me.
Its like knowing when you've seen a good thing but not knowing why.
A very puzzled,
Dawud.

[Arcadian]

Pseud,

Iam proud of you son - LOL

This is the most imagist piece from you yet and i like the story you tell of floorboard and clever title monolog (ue)...ie a single log or floorboard plank and the love relationship it is the purity of the draught under the door ( compare to a writing draft of a love note )


well done -enjoyed this a lot

see you around buddy
Arco

ps - bad luck i counted 180 characters 20 more than for the arckhu form - LOL

[taliesin_the_poet]

It's good. Very good, in fact.

Some might call it a little obscure - but it's none the worse for that. In fact, poetry often lends itself to obscurity in much the same way as a river lends itself to being wet.

This will take a good few reads to get the most out of it - but oh, the satisfaction of when I do...

[camus]

Pseud the obscure, lol, shit I laughed at my own gag.

Your poems of late seem to be leaning toward feelings of claustrophobia, of being trapped: prisons, floor boards, communicating through closed doors, good stuff.