Craisins
oyster crackers
and circus peanuts
the only three bags left in the cupboard of childhood
picked over
like wrinkly
rotten
or unripened apples
in the orchard of my mind where unshed teardrops hide in shame
flooding liquid penitence
behind these ocean doors
we call eyes.
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Comments
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very... deep.. its so beautifuly describes the thoughts that swim in my brain... and i loved the way you described eyes.. because i just felt it.. im gald that i read it *big smile* well done
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Absolutely beautiful!
"flooding liquid penitence
behind these ocean doors"
Bravo!
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I like this a LOT! The only thing I take issue with is "uncried teardrops." Perhaps, "UNSHED teardrops?" But once again your prodigious talent shines. Yours in admiration - ocerus
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yoink! great suggestion, stealing it
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okay, so i love the decriptions you have painted in this poem, and the last 3 lines just complete it for me! you are a great writer! keep it goin
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i can see a fruit in my hand, well anyone's hand, and its getting squeezed so hard, i can see the tension in the nuckles n veins, but the drops of its juice being extracted are falling slowly, giving it a sense of peace anyways... like crying.... when i cry i feel the same way.... i really like this poem and i don't know how else to say it but when i say it i mean it passionately
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