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quiet progression

moreandmoremoreandmore Posts: 164
edited January 2007 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
He saw it absolutely spilling from the gash he cut.
Valentines, a port wine gushing to the ground from now-split skin.
Confusion cut a face in thirds now Twisted, like dead reverie.
His mouth agape, an understanding came quite through his feeble din

He split his promises in two and turned to lay down with some new dumb chick
Look! He said, I'm brave! Courageous! I rid my life of my good fate!
Through the eyes of pleasures' honest innocent sweet face
gone cold the eyes, the thumping heart. The feathered dove's digraced.
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • BuruBuru Posts: 8,473
    moreandmore wrote:
    He saw it absolutely spilling from the gash he cut.
    Valentines, a port wine gushing to the ground from now-split skin.
    Confusion cut a face in thirds now Twisted, like dead reverie.
    His mouth agape, an understanding came quite through his feeble din

    He split his promises in two and turned to lay down with some new dumb chick
    Look! He said, I'm brave! Courageous! I rid my life of my good fate!
    Through the eyes of pleasures' honest innocent sweet face
    gone cold the eyes, the thumping heart. The feathered dove's digraced.

    ooo I like it a lot!
    Only part that does not convince me totally is:
    "He split his promises in two and turned to lay down with some new dumb chick
    Look! He said, I'm brave! Courageous! I rid my life of my good fate!"


    mainly the dumb chick part, it kind of brings the poem to a "highschool" tone, when the rest of it isn't and goes much deeper than that.

    I DO like these parts: "I rid my life of my good fate" and "he split his promises in two"

    Hope you don't mind my 2 cents...
    y la banda de Guille... cuando toca?
  • moreandmoremoreandmore Posts: 164
    I rather appreciate your two cents, Buru! Thank you!

    You're absolutely right, too.

    thank you again!
  • moreandmoremoreandmore Posts: 164
    He saw it absolutely spilling from the gash he cut.
    Valentines, a port wine gushing to the ground from now-split skin.
    Confusion cut a face in thirds now Twisted, like dead reverie.
    His mouth agape, an understanding came quite through his feeble din

    He split his promises in two and turned to lie to mirrored lie.
    I'm brave! Courageous! Aren't I? I never loved another so.
    Through the eyes of pleasures' honest innocent sweet face gone cold
    the eyes, gone cold the thumping heart. The feathered dove's digrace.
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