Neon post-it notes that peeled
And lie forgotten in some land-fill site
Carrying a well-concealed message
That never got repeated.
Through the long days
Staring into golden
With Marc Bolan playing
And the whole world spinning.
And the whole world bouncing
The whole mouth biting
The whole voice saying
'I love you. Don't want to hurt you.'
'That can all change'
And it's *hugs* and away
Parachutes and panache
And more missed chances
When I understood finally
After months, the post-it notes
The answer would always be the same
And it was always yes.
Author notes
This is not one of my best.
It will never be one of my best
It doesn't really deserve the time it has taken to be written
Sorry.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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You know me (at least, I think you do) to be honest in critiquing, mostly straightforward in critiquing, and occasionally brutal in doing so.
I won't make an exception for you.
Your poem was cliche. Quite so.
HOWEVER, you managed to throw in some things that made it a rather refreshing view of said cliche. I liked your metaphors (I'm guessing that your love has never involved literal parachutes?) and loved that you made it all flow, yet didn't keep it scrunched into supernaturally simple phrases.
You did fantastic. I won't lie. Well done.
~Asa of the Commentators of Near-Perfection
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Wow
very good poem. Kind of cryptic -
it's groovy!
if not slightly emo!
but good!
x x x
lobe
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