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p a t h o s l o g i c a l
smitten
elaborate
your ghost weaves
birds of hope
upon my shipwreck
heart
Dire was your plan
to thwart love
that rose with
light breeze
these gusts
leaven us
towards the dawn
star
chains of promise
drew you down
forgotten wing bound
creature lust
and vanity a trust
we need in vaults
shelter
if only I could
capture you
for you would see
the greatness
how I so complete
you
we are one breath
one thought
one love
burning like a
flaming star
falling to earth
that does not deserve
me
Editing stage:
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Comments
Cloudthings
Sat, 2012-03-24 23:45
Such lovely sentiment & so poigniantly described
As always there is a divine udercurrent to your writing, I loved this, you are a prince of bringing about exploration of emotion via imagery, I'm sure I've said so before. I had forgotton the feeling of being smitten, a bit like one forgets the pain of childbirth, perhaps it's a biological necesity so we don't continue to pine or to fear events in life which are so intense... In any case, you have delivered it here so evocatively & with beautiful poetry Steven.
With a sting in the tail with the final line as well, ouch.
Good poetry provokes one to feel & to think! You do it so well.
This, (among all of them) makes me ache at the thought of it... to be so well loved & to be so thought of:
if only I could
capture you
for you would see
the greatness
how I so complete
you
Such lovely sentiment & so poigniantly described
Cheers
Anni
My dear friend always told me "Water the seeds of joy first"
wesley snow
Sun, 2012-03-25 00:14
Hang on a second Steven.
FORGET THE PAIN OF CHILDBIRTH? ARE YOU MAD? I'VE SEEN IT! HOW COULD YOU POSSIBLY FORGET IT?! IF I HAD TO DO IT, IT WOULD HAUNT MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT AND FILL MY DREAMS ENDLESSLY!
Okay, I'm alright. Women are such incredibly powerful creatures. To treat something that scared the hell out of me so nonchalantly is absolute evidence of their overarching superiority.
As to the poem, I wish I had the poetic insight to offer you some sort of critical discussion that would improve your poetry, but I am so far out of your league all I can do is read and revel.
And Cloudy? You are a better man than I am.
wesley
W. H. Snow
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Esker
Mon, 2012-03-26 00:10
my reads of Love/lust/and capture
historically and cult clans
Patho Logical was my fun
and throughout this poem
is about obsession
complete
the poet writer in this
peice dragged to earth
by the faulted human
obsession
thinking so highly of self
that earth is not his deserving
home...That his "Perfection"
turns out to be human
and that if "she could only see"
Poet Esker is grounded much
in reality but ventures into
writing for musings
Thank You all for comments