poetry critical

online poetry workshop

ribbed urn

the planck's width,
ore without:
my ice thin from walking
and waking, aye
end up weeping --
up close, lipping
out of the blues,
mine and mind to
reduce to
stupor, stolid
of transference
lingering, overdue;
of longing
end waiting,
stretching wide --
entangled parting culls
on the in-sighed.

written 1.12.18
in memory of 12.18.17

for my kyutee tat'
with all the love i can muster,

     /   \

12 Jan 18

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

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Split personality turned on? :D
 — unknown

most people mistake the photon for a schizo, but what they 'see' is what they always not get: it's always substantial.
 — fractalcore

Is that trying to admit you're trying to hit 2 birds with 1 stone?

Let's allow readers and their imaginations/speculation as you suggested.
 — unknown

as far as speaking on more levels than one is concerned, that is the imperative; any misinterpretation is a natural consequence of an inconsistent language.

if i were to use '2 degrees Celsius', though, it should only mean one thing alone, but then if i used it in a 'poetry mindset', then it could mean a whole lot more, especially to a synaesthete.

hmm, 'poetry' is weird, after all.

but, i'm still not sure if i'm doing this right, coz it's been like forever since i last attempted to put my psychotic, er psychoemotional state in writing.

what do you think?

 — fractalcore

i'm not a mind to think for you. attempting at poetry is futile as empty which cannot be read [by recipient]..and what lies beneath.

writing should be your fire, not a misfire.
 — unknown

or you tell the world you're still firing up the other side of the universe. lols
staph it.
 — unknown

the question is: do you even make sense to yourself?

 — fractalcore