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stealing seasons


"this is how to kill a womb," you say
and cup in your palms fresh dew
until it screams.

smokestack hair stretches around the blossoming
of sky, slowly sucking fear
from cracks in the sea, from the lips
of the moon.



beneath my umbrella, I cannot warm
your peeling hands.


"the mud sleeps," - are you crying? or is it just
the city squirming in your eyes -

"and will not wake up."















Author notes

valor

"cat got fried"

[prompt: T is for Tears. another hippie poem.]

A contest entry

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Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • amaranthine lover gold member
    July 30, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Wow, this is an awesome piece! Love the imagery!


  • seraphim shock
    July 27, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Ah, why haven't I seen this before?!

    Beautiful.
    Ah, so beautiful. This is obviously a sign that the nonexistant god in the sky likes heretics best.

    I'm glad you're back!
    WE CAN GO TO THE WATER PARK NOW.


  • sailor ptolema
    July 9, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    I LOVE this! I love your form, and what you say, in simple words, that are woven expertly into a powerful poem! The only thing I'm iffy on is the alliteration in the second line, not sure the extra adjective is needed .
    But, I thoroughly enjoyed this!!!!
    Best of luck in the contest!!!!

    Sailor Ptolema


  • aeolia
    July 9, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    i've read a whole bunch of your stuff tonight and have come to the conclusion that you are a fantastic writer. though, for this poem, "fresh" in the second line made me stumble. perhaps just "february dew"?

    -cristina


    • autarky
      July 11, 2008
      Edit | Reply
      thanks for the advice! someone else mentioned that same phrase so I edited it.
      & thanks for the undeserved flattery

1 - 6 of 6