poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Shake me

Our lives were those of domesticated geese
Hard to run from while holding on to dignity
Our palms were those the tellers couldn’t read
Our hearts were bloody masses of pulp no poet could romanticise
Your body is the plaything of starchildren
Broad shoulders and golden hair shining in the strobe lights
This woman is drawn close to the heat of you
As tidal forces only wish that they could be so warm
And part of me wants to see your blood, so hot and so red
So warm and like the rose in my garden that lives
No matter how I neglect to tend
I would do anything for the the silver band and the hand that wears it
And it’s so easy to say anything when you’re barely capable of
Running from geese without falling on your pretty face
Keeping the garden fertile and green and red
Your heat is as blinding as anything that opened my eyes
I will hold your heart even so,
If it turns out to be as bruised as mine

this may be terrible
But that's why I love this site
Something awful might turn into something

6 Jul 08

Rated 9 (9) by 2 users.
Active (2): 8, 10
Inactive (0):

(define the words in this poem)
(17 more poems by this author)

(1 user considers this poem a favorite)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


No. it is pretty good.

Probably one too many "Our's" in the first stanza...but still, soft and fine and whatever.
 — DeformedLion

the our's are okay, imo, and no, this isn't
bad at all.
: )
 — fractalcore

So pretty. Really nice.

[url=http://www.mynetpharma.com/buy-generic-viagra.asp]Generic Viagra [/url] | [url=http://www.mynetpharma.com/buy-generic-levitra.asp]Generic Levitra[/url] | [url=http://www.mynetpharma.com/buy-suhagra.asp]Suhagra[/url]
 — unknown