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Aged paper

  • 31-01-2006 10:22pm
    #1
    TheVerBal1
    Closed Accounts Posts: 12 ✭


    About how a poet develops with age...feedback/comments appreciated


    Aged Paper

    I care to release these metaphors
    But theyre tarred-and-feathered to my pen
    Ive been beaten by letters
    Being battered by hords of parradoxs'
    Today I scribe my last anonymous forget-me-nots

    Poetic graffiti on the walls of the womb
    Birthed a personal form of poem

    I am a one-man-crew to a sinking ship
    Just to get deeper than those around me
    Drowning in a fear of being shallow
    I encourage my thoughts to muitany from my bounty

    Recieved four quartrains for my fourth birthday
    Saved them unopened with the couplets from my second
    And unwrapped my gift once I could hold a pen

    Sobbed upon my pages
    To write braile with my teardrops
    So people could feel what I'm saying
    Pass me a brain tissue
    So I can dry my eyes in your-thoughts

    A sheperd boy nomad under house arrest
    Sharpened pencil my only point in life
    Jailbreaking from braincells

    Paced wall-to-wall up-and-down
    To jog my memory
    Of a that line I scripted earlier
    The one that dropped on me like Newton beneath the apple tree
    But its chained to my subconscience, I guess its not ripe to fall.
    Maybe its still bitter.

    Maybe my thoughts are yet to ripen
    Maybe Im still bitter
    About my unco-operative pen
    So I will learn to write without ink
    Today I vow to write whatever I think
    Not what I think people think is write.

    Mature like wine
    Sour grapes
    Youth of today
    No sir.

    Ill scrape my thoughts inside my skull with flint
    To spark a desire
    To explore my neurological pathways
    To find my full potential
    And the potential of what influenced me this hour

    Crumbled paper facial features
    Cracked vinyl smile
    A left lean
    Old

    Blood did run from my pen to my soul
    But I lernt to interupt my passionate scriptures
    By soaking them up with MY brain tissues
    By thinking about adjectives and vowels
    How I wish the box would finally empty
    But new habits never left me
    Today I care not for my own poems.


Comments

  • #2
    TheVerBal1
    Closed Accounts Posts: 12 ✭TheVerBal1


    15 views and not one reply???


  • #3
    Tobias Greeshman
    Registered Users, Registered Users 2 Posts: 2,082 ✭✭✭Tobias Greeshman


    TheVerBal1 wrote:
    Sobbed upon my pages
    To write braile with my teardrops
    So people could feel what I'm saying
    Nice
    TheVerBal1 wrote:
    Maybe my thoughts are yet to ripen
    Maybe Im still bitter
    About my unco-operative pen
    So I will learn to write without ink
    Today I vow to write whatever I think
    Not what I think people think is write.
    I quite like this verse, almost daring to lose your poetic gift and write what is more socially acceptable.

    I think some of the imagery doesn't do the poem justice. IMO some scientific terms like Neuroligical Pathways and Brain Tissue aren't doing the poem any justice.

    Also every 2nd/3rd verse's in italics are quite effective and add's a nice presentation to the poem. Rework the imagery in various parts and you have a pretty accomplished poem.


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