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Perdição
I put a lid on the pain.
It bubbled brutally in my dissected belly,
Like the boiled over milk
That stained my stove.
Sodden sheets wrapped me in comfort:
Moulded to the outline of my skin,
Unable to move for days -
Restrained in a cotton cocoon.
Vines sprung from crisp fabric
Corners: writhing over my legs,
Pulling across my immobilised stomach,
Fierce as metal restraints, chaffing my wrists.
My cramping pelvis lay empty,
Wiped clean like a blackboard.
I slaughtered my soul;
And the corpse became roses.
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Comment by: Beck Online- 2006-06-29 07:27
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| I especially love the last two lines of this poem. Everytime I read it I get something new from it. Fantastic poem. |
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Comment by: Elinki - 2006-04-30 19:57
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| again, great imagery, and the last line was briliant. your a pretty god poet. keep writing. |
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The contrasting images in this poem definitely rocked my world. The desolate hopelessness is T.S. Elliot-esque. (That is definitely a compliment)
Another amazing piece of work...one for the bookshelf for sure. |
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Comment by: - 2006-04-21 17:28
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| Wow, that's certaintly confronting. I like the last two lines, it is very descripive. I agree with Hollykinz, you do have a talent. |
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| Woh missy! You certainly have a talent! x |
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"In The Valley: A Collection of Poems"
This book is a collection of poems that cover a wide range of topics from abuse to spiritual awakening. This book is the second collection of poetry by the writer of "Confessions of A Twenty-Something Virgin".
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