Roses grew inside him.
But people shoveled them
out, trampled them, did so
with enough strength to bury
thousands of people. There was
never any remorse, of
course. Douglass let them
he had. He had a lot of them,
but they didn’t care that he was
finite. To them, he was
a wealth of privilege, endless
fountain, a pathetically
roomy mountain, a place for
many to make themselves at
home. In actuality he was lidless,
depth of perception worsening,
listless; dormant but ready to
explode with nothing.
Shattered old Doug, glass and
clear intentions, gone. Buried
alive in his own giving.
19 Jun 08
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that was sad and touched me. the way you described him as a garden was heartfelt.
Unknown, you're really nice, whoever you are. i appreciate your friendly attitude.
im unknown fuck you
okay, not to sound snotty but there are multiple unknowns and i wasn't talking to you meaning it isn't your business. if you're offended that i think you're nice, well, you're wrong. as apparently i need to clear it up that you weren't the one to deserve the designated comment.
i thought it was a great poem and there is no need to swear at someone for giving you a complement
sorry, you weren't the one i was offended by.
excellent imagery, listen, with strong metaphors--this is a gem.
thanks. your compliments mean a lot. i'm glad the metaphors were constructed right.
Sorry if this is a bit jumbled, but I'll do what I can.
It starts out so very nice, but by the end I'm beginning to say, "Yes, yes, we get it"--if you could begin to condense somewhere around L14, I think that would greatly improve the poem. The figurative language of the first stanza is amazing, by the way. But I'm not getting the stanza break between stanzas 2 and 3. The others make sense enough to me, but not that one. The last line could be written a little stronger; something about it seems too desperate. L16, "no; in reality" seems sort of a cliche shortcut; perhaps rewrite that as well.
Great so far, just needs the usual tweaking.
Also the word "topless" in L17 is distracting but that might just be my crazy teenage hormones. Your call.
FangzofFire, you left a great critique. i have employed many changes.
but i'm still stuck on it. if you get this message, please comment on the changes i've made. i have condensed, i'm just curious to know if it worked.
also, if you have any ideas on how to make that last line stronger.
thank you. if you don't get this ... i still appreciate your suggestions. this poem has changed, hopefully for the better.
ooh, one of the many gems you got.
i like your style more with each piece i read.
thanks. i'm worried i cut too much out though.
however, your comments are really nice, Fractalcore. very much so.
no, i don't think so. i'm able to read exactly the
bits i need to. maybe you did overdo this originally.
it is settled then. i'll leave it as it is. no need to overdo something, i would say.
This poem reminds me that i must take care and not give too much. Self preservation sometimes goes to the wall when you try to help and make happy too many people. This has some memorable imagary and is a poem of great wisdom
Larry foolish thinga Lark
thanks Larry. i'm glad you got the message, and i'm glad it worked out all right.