hey sharpshooter
i've been pondering the true glory days where we're so tiny, raindrops are oceans in our wake and when we're so mighty, the seas are puddles for us to jump in.
when our fellow forgotten generations snicker so snide we'll know that they're just so jealous.
hey bold perceiver i can't wait for our real glory days when we've cartwheeled our way into earning our rights to look upon the most exquisite photos ever taken and to readily gaze upon films enough to make the stoic beg no, no, no.
and while our otherwise forgotten fellow generations roll their eyes and ask why, why, why we'll take some pictures of our own.
hey late sleeper the glory days will start when you're ready and when those feet touch the december kissed floor the cold beneath our toes will feel like making love to angels and shivering will be like smelling their divine hair.
and while our neglected, forgotten fellow generations speak so ill of us we'll know our bliss and treat it like rows of iridescent light.
Author notes
i don't think anyone here knows me but still, don't call me by my first name.
A contest entry
- Experiment by Dienush.
3550 points, ended January 31, 2008, 29 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
need
Comments
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Wow, this really has a special style. I like how it's something between poetry and prose and the rhythm and flow of it all. Nice ideas too, for example I loved the ideas and structure. The repetition works very well.
As for the experiment part of my contest, I don't think you were one of the "subjects", were you?
Thanks a lot for your entry
~Diana -
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thanks so much ^______^
i wasn't one of your subjects but i hope i did well anyways
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