The place for writers: Upload your writing in minutes, receive peer feedback from other writers, poets, authors, then get your work published out there in the real world. Learn how other writers are doing it.
jesus lord knows my eyes are puffy
stench of cigarettes
vodka is not the cure
stench of which i don't know what is
a delicate touch
a delicate touch i don't know what is
I do not know what IS
There go my children
their daydreams are my nightmares
and they still breathe
In.
Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
wow! i think its a really moving poem especially the first line bacause it really draws you in. Even though you've used hard, bold words they all flow together and its quite peaceful :)
This reminds me of mornings, mornings in which things don't make sense but do. Fog. Before the mind starts functioning. Wanting to go back to then night before. The kids pounding through a hangover. Very neatly expressed. The capital IS reminds the reader that though you want it not to be, you know it has to be. Nice job.
this is freakin excellent. Very nice work here. I wonder if you've recorded this over a track? Your work needs to be performed. If you haven't done so already, I'd really start at it. You should definitely consider it. If you want to start recording your work to distribute, you should download this free toolk called "Audacity" get a cheap mic, a good popscreen and you're good to go. I really do like your work. It living.
I like the pace of this and won't even try to interpret what this poem means. I enjoyed reading it again and again but I may be missing the point. I liked the "layout" of the poem. I think it adds to the disjointed feeling.
