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

The Cavern of Thought

The words could never
lie dormant;

his fertile  mind
 conjures
usage and intent;

malevolent theories
have no place
amongst his concrete

pen.

Substance careens caverns,


as residue pours
from ancient heart;

a drumming in every
thought,


aspiring to connect to

earth, and embark; 

to creation's plateau
releasing what must be,

freed.

Author notes

Your prompt phrase:
"Hyperbolic~This heart nestled in a place among the stones".

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 - 9 of 9

  • Blue Rew silver member
    November 23
    ?
    Edit | Reply
    The verbs here command such attention:
    careen, conjure, pour, drumming.
    The sensations are taken over and moved along
    with these lines that hug tightly to earthly curves.
    Thanks for giving such a gift to Michael. Blue


  • michael thomas gold member
    November 4

    Edit | Reply
    I came into the room and saw you. I said, damn, I am going to take that woman into a poem and make her rhyme, give her a plot, give her scene-by-scene construction and just as she gets tired of me and wants to dance with another man I will shout:

    Bananas I'm potatoes for her
    Leave her to me you cur
    She is going home with me
    Like it or not you see
    She is pure poetry
    Makes us spin dizzily

    And, of course, you slapped me and left
    me stunned at the doorway so bereft

    But now, you return to give me this poem
    And I thank you with my arms open

    And you said, pshaw! It was always only for fun


    michael

    • LadyLavender gold member
      November 4
      Edit | Reply
      Ok, I am blushing, laughing, smiling, in awe and a million other action verbs are taking place;the others I'll keep to myself. God, you are just to brilliant.

      But every word in my poem, is what I felt is you; if just a piece of you...


  • John BoSox
    November 4

    Edit | Reply
    You confuse me a bit by your.unintentional deception..You make me think.This one is tough..I may get it wrong, yet I owe you respect as a writer to attempt to solve your puzzel.I take reviewing seriously..Ok..here goes..He or you are a writer..You have an eternal need for expression..You can not accepy, and go silent,,..Expression is the fuel which feeds you..Going the safe route is not your nature,,..You are a writer.Taking a chance is not an option..It is a necessity..Your life blood.There are no risks for you..You require words to be brought out for interpretation,..The cavern is your image of the creation of your release point.In there, all is translated into words,,then released for all to judge.Am I close..I need to know..Tell me...Wonderful poem..You keep me guessing..as a poet should..I bow to you..congrats


    John

    • LadyLavender gold member
      November 4
      Edit | Reply
      Oh Mr. Faulkner...all my writes are not always about me...or are they? :-)
      Seriously this is somewhat a dedication to a writer, he's a poet here on AP. His name is Micahel Thomas and he's quite a gem. Thank you for reading my poems it means so much.

      You make me out as an enigma...I am! But, I'm someone who learns and observes others. It is how I live.


  • Night Hope gold member
    November 4

    Edit | Reply



    This is a beautiful and worthy poem for Michael, Sweetie. "ancient heart" - indeed, I believe all artistic souls must have lived a thousand prior lives, to be able to surge with such beautiful, tender songs. Good luck in the contest, Poet.



    • LadyLavender gold member
      November 4

      Edit | Reply
      What a happy face bowing to me!? Girl, have you any idea how long I've admired you? Well, Michael is so amazing and I find his work, simply brilliant!


      • Night Hope gold member
        November 4
        Edit | Reply

        I'm just a Poet, like everyone else, Sweetie. And the feeling is mutual.

1 - 9 of 9