Ditch the ads, upload images and much more - upgrade today from 5.95/month!
Read • Contests • Groups • Learn • Forums • Store • Help
 

Impacted Memories


Something in the churning of my lil aching stomach
Lets the dreary soul know, it is far beyond broken.
Bowels in disgust, blood begins to boil
For the memories of the past, soon begin to soil.

Flailing in the wind, like grandma's summers sheets,
Whipping, snapping, clapping in it's own torture.
What pair of human eyes can see the joy in this?
For it is sweet in its bitterness: ignorance is bliss.

Flesh, form, and feelings to the ghost of my own mind
Makes as much [non]sense as a soul for the sadists.
Tripping on my thoughts, horror upon my eyes,
Mirrors on the wall, showing only a disguise.




A contest entry

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    • Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • wingsofgold25 silver member
    June 3, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    This is realy a good write.
    My favorite line is.
    Flailing in the wind, like Grandma's sheets,
    it just kinda jumps out at you.
    Thank you for your entry and good luck in the contest.


  • StormGoddess Greeters member
    June 1, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    Welcome to AllPoetry!

    Now if this doesn't have some inner meaning, deep and almost a foreboding sense. Well written with an excellent flow.

    Welcome to AP. If you have any questions or need help with anything, feel free to IM me.
    Keep expressing through writing.
    Storm
    Site Greeter

  • luvdrkchocolate
    May 31, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Oh. This is a sad little poem that you have going on here. It kind of sounds like someone that is looking back on their past and they have a lot of unhappy thoughts that follow them. I thought the line about your grandma's sheets was very dramatic and really got your point across. I thought you did a good job of expressing yourself here.


  • PerVirtuous
    May 31, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    L2 lets... no apostrophe. This is a very nice poem. Brilliant really. Why is the past such a bad thing? No mater what is there, each moment is rebirth. Each thought seperated from all others. We can be anything. The past can only hold us through our indulgence in it. I love the mirror analogy. Welcome to AP.


    • Yuki Onna
      May 31, 2008

      Edit | Reply
      thanks! didn't see that

      and thank you for the points!! u didn't have to do that but thank you!!!

1 - 6 of 6