I detest
the dappling of autumn,
abhor
the cold cock of winter
and wholeheartedly
resent
the rust
of too late.
~
Critiques not only welcomed, but encouraged.
Comments
1 - 24 of 24
-
I have not bunnies to give, fair price for admission to this poem.
Guess I snuck in the back door for a re-read. -
Short and vivid. The chill is getting to me as well.
-
-
Thank you. I am soo not looking forward to winter.
-
-
Yup
-
i missed reading you... and im not sure how far back i need to go to catch up, but i will try. for me, the autumn is the last attempt to pull in the warmth of summer, trying to tuck it in my hoodie. but nothing can help love left in the rain that when sun comes out, it only rusts through more. that makes me realize too that love and care need to be tucked in under my hoodie, too, to protect it when the rain and the bitter cold come along. hopefully, it will prevent too late from ruining it.
this is one of the strongest brief poems i've read in a long time.
-
too late...to me themore bitter words of a virulent english language; a message of defeat before starting; discouragement should have been a cardinal sin; so many old tired ideas loose in the world, a world with so much sheer possibility...PK
-
so winter's comingg huh
I kinda got the fact you're not happy bout it lol
-
amazing brevity
-
Wonderful. "cold cock of autumn" that says so much. Excellent writing - honest, hard, relatable, as I said in the beginning -- wonderful!
-
Amazing. You say so much and such strong emotions in so few words. What imagery! Brilliant. One of your best.
-
excellent
-
-
Kathleen,
If anyone can use rust in a poem and pull it off perfectly, you can & did.
Awesome !
Joe
-
Ouch, Woman! Amazing. Potent. "resent the rust of too late"... love that. I also am fascinated with the way the sound break on the air, sharp and slicing. Emphatic and sure.
Excellent.
-
amen to this one.
-
Wow.
This is dynamite.
"the cold cock of winter"
Just the way winter happens.
"the rust of too late"
Perfect.
-
-
Poetry read, lol. Rust is such a resonant word on it's own, you know?
Writing poems down, and saying them... they change all the time. lol.
-
-
love the title .....! and yes, i fully agree. you just know how to say it, Kathleen....
~ Nicolette
-
-
I don't know if I do, but thanks hon.
-
-
I spent the morning outside with my 21 year old son today...(he spent 3 months last winter in Dominican Rep. and went back for a couple of weeks at the end of Sept.)
...this morning he kept mumbling- "its so cold, its so damp, how can people live hear!"
I think he'd raise a glass of rhum and coconut milk to this poem,Rowen!
-
-
mine's 19, he wants to move somewhere colder, but it's where the music is...shit
who am I to argue when it comes to art/callings/etc.
If I can make someone raise their glass
instead of smash it, different, but nice.
Pass the mai tai. -
-
Mine came home with latin dancing fever...he liked Sigar Ros but now he's into that music that gives the impression summer never ends!
-
-
-
amen sister.
me too.
love,
jin
-
-
backatcha hon. hugs
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 24 of 24
