The word was hiding behind the woodpile;
under the cobwebs,
between things I’d rather not think about.
Lisa said, I should poke it with a stick,
or pretend I didn’t care
and maybe it would run into the poem;
“Don’t look so hard,” she said,
picking the straw and twirling my hair,
as sunset crashed
like a European movie
that ended with the lovers
escape from a flaming car--
I say--maybe when it gets dark
the word will venture over to the creek
for a drink
and I can catch it in a net,
or tell a lie to make it believe in itself
or something else.
Lisa says, that's too complicated.
You should come with me, she says,
and let the word go free,
and I’m thinking if Night gives birth to the dawn
just like in a song;
the word could rest a bit
while I leaned back in her arms.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
-
So Neat
I like what you did here. You gave the "word" life. Well, words in a poem should have a life. Maybe you should also put dawn in caps. In your last line maybe : "while I leaned back in my love's arms" i was a bit confused with the word "her". Anyway, I see no need to revise.
-
the word could rest a bit
while I leaned back in her arms.
...........
It Was Brilliant
by
the poet of hearts and beautiful words -
Spectacular!
I am out of happy cappy men for the night, but I can give you the greatest compliment i know, I wish i had thought of this idea myself. The concept is wonderful and only the writer could relate. Anyone who writes would grasp this idea nd anyone who would disdain it might not be a 'real' writer. RC -
don't cover it up with what you found in that woodpile just yet.
please?
-
don't i wish i could let the world go free right now and rest in someone's arms. thank you for sharing this with me today. quite a good one from you. looking forward to reading more from you in the near future. viyanna rosemarie
-
aww, put some depth in it
a very simple piece
I can't give it 4 or 5 stars
sorry
by
the poet of hearts and beautiful words
-
I wish I had a 'Lisa'.
It's not easy to write a poem about poetry without sounding too angsty or cliche, but you've done it
brillantly.
-
“Don’t look so hard,” she said,
picking the straw and twirling my hair,
as sunset crashed
like a European movie
that ended with the lovers
escape from a flaming car----"
bestest stuff that. I'm jealous of it.
It's true isn't it -- it is like a bug that runs around inside and won't leave you be. I find only certain places where the itch subsides. Like you hope for here in that last stanza.
I don't feel "hate" here so I find it so interesting to read Cannonfire's reaction. I think that is always good about your poems -- you don't preach or tell the reader exactly what they should be thinking. You let them have their own experience.
I think they call these things "metapoems" over at the fancy poem place. Poems about writing poems. Course I always see Love when I see Lisa poems. But I'm sorta partial to Lisa poems ya know. Have been for several million years now.
As a matter of fact, you should write some more.
-
Lovely stuff!
I love your use of metaphor! -
and the word is hate, to hate to love, to hate to exist, to hate to be what others think you should be..don't mind me..just venting on how some want conform to be a clone when you like being who you be and no more C
-
I like poems about letters and words and you've written a few of them. This is probably my favorite Lutie word poem though the second stanza reads a little bit odd to me. A change in tense or something with the didn't which to me indicates past tense where poke and run are present. Yea something like that.
Desiree
-
u be wrighting much lately
ure should go with lisa
escape the flaming fridge
delaware way
-
The word will perhaps be lured with a bonbon. Failing this, you must send in another word to catch it.
Or then perhaps is good to allow it to sleep a while , cosy in its own meaning.
Adding your comment:
1 - 13 of 13
