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Literature Text
As you stepped to me,
it was not only my body you lifted,
but my soul as well.
Moved together
Told a story
A book could never tell.
Flowers passed from you to me,
And we stepped into the light.
A gentle smile,
A humble bow,
On stage we own the night.
it was not only my body you lifted,
but my soul as well.
Moved together
Told a story
A book could never tell.
Flowers passed from you to me,
And we stepped into the light.
A gentle smile,
A humble bow,
On stage we own the night.
Literature
Hyperaware
I know the thumping of blood in my fingers,
the twinge in my back,
the tension behind my calves far too well.
The bristle of cold is too much
but the silence without the fan is suffocating.
My blankets are too heavy,
settled over my torso like the rock in my chest
but I can’t sleep without the weight.
This awareness is a manifestation of my longing;
for your hands in my hair,
your warmth at my spine,
your shoes on my floor.
This is what I feel when I can’t feel you –
palpitations, vibrations,
fixations that drive me to insomnia.
Only the trains are any comfort,
plowing away into the night
screaming here I am; there I go
Literature
Last Message
Foreboding package
your final story to the world
I cannot open it
Literature
Beloved
The aegis shielding heaven from earth gives way –
you float down like a feather, fleshly plucked
from the wings of a dove,
the sweetest curves and effervescent beauty
of your mouth remind me of home.
Darling love, the harmony of touch is
everlasting – whenever I
star gaze into your eyes, with wanderlust,
and the crust of this gentle mother
can no longer proclaim me.
Just as she could not have held you from the
moment He breathed life into your halcyon bones,
while caught between a ballad and a poem.
The warmth of winter
would align their hearts again,
two souls united together in twilight –
surely nirvana has always meant
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This was one of the first poems I had published.
Dance Spirit Magazine published this piece and I was stunned, happy, dancing alone but so freaking jazzed.
Good times.
Dance Spirit Magazine published this piece and I was stunned, happy, dancing alone but so freaking jazzed.
Good times.
© 2012 - 2024 prettyflour
Comments16
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Overall
Vision Originality Technique ImpactI really, really, REALLY enjoyed this piece. So, this is going to be excruciating to find things that can make it better. So, when I'm done, ignore every word I've typed if you want to, because I honestly think changing this too much will ruin it. This is a very fragile poem; even a bit of change can shift it to mean something different, sound different, look different, and then it's no longer a piece I am raving about, but something new, something like a mutant, and I know I won't enjoy it nearly as much. Usually, I do what I think could do fixing by category of rating, but this, as I said, is fragile, and there's not much to do with actual critique.
I do think that if it ends with them being in a play, being actors, central it more on that. I thought this was a love story and it threw me through quite a loop when I finished it. I'm not sure if other's did too, but a few word changes can keep the poem as wonderful as it is, and still make it a tad clearer. Thank you for reading, and I really do love this piece.