My Kismet lay in the babble of my phantasm.
Cathode dreaming,
Elemental substance,
Sustenance I thought...
Notated in the empty bottles, and drowned lemons.
Virulent vine,
deadly ivy,
choking the crocus...
Choking me.
My vindications came in the night,
under the yelp of mourning dogs,
And the spasms of my weak humanity,
Releasing my soul to fresh gardens
And spiritual peace.
A contest entry
- Point and originality by HellRaiser21.
330 points, ended May 9, 2008, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
This speaks to me on a heart level, Bill. Vindications that acome in the night, and to waken the heart anew in 'fresh gardens'. There is a sadness in our blindness, new pas? And sometimes a drowning sensation in our frailties. But it is that elemental substance which gives us perseverance when we think we don't have any.
-
-
HI Klassy
actually, this piece was taken from a word bank that i developed for another sight... Thanks very much for your Comments
-
-
A beautiful tale of journey. Just enough personal story to let the emotion run deep, just enough generalization to make this piece applicable to so many readers. I love the honesty of this piece and the beautiful freedom at the end. Wonderfully done.
-
-
Thanks Ten...actually, this piece was taken from a word bank that I developed for another sight... Thanks very much for your Comments
-
-
Ahhh, ok then, no personal story. Still a kool write.
-
-
Well, I think each poem has a piece of personal experience intertwined with in itour joys and struggles etc. however it must be balanced with the creativness of the writer...
-
-
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
