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Belly Flops
Angst ridden;
help me!
Trying to create
my prose.
I inhale,
hope,
You're a loser,
stupid, you
never make sense,
no one cares or listens,
they never have!
You've always been left
out in the-
doors closed,
slammed shut,
lost in the windows
-Cold.
I Exhale,
frustration.
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Ah those frickin' frackin' inner voices, eh Tucker? Self-doubts... The self-imposed boot in the ass. You don't need a critic. You're already one. Don't worry, I think everybody speaks to themselves that way in one form or another.
I agree with HumesFig (I seem to agree with him a lot.) You write fearlessly, like a pioneer, searching, feeling, testing. You've made tremendous strides in your writing in the past month.
As soon as Si receives my membership check and frees me up to use email, I'll answer your last one. |
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Comment by: - 2006-02-21 23:21
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| I liked this one. Short and snappy yet telling a story. |
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Comment by: - 2006-02-21 20:57
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You do some imaginative things in your free-style approach. I think I'm going to bookshelf this one, to learn from...
Not that it's perfect: I don't really like the 'Wonder/fascination/Death' or 'Loss/frustration/Hope' passages; these words are too rhetorical for such a slim poem. I think a poem of only 53 words can support, at best, one word like 'wonder' or 'hope.' The rest of the words should be images. |
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Comment by: Lander Online- 2006-02-21 12:24
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| 'Lost in the windows' love that line. Boy have I peered out windows for what seems like hours. From an early childhood memory, to only yesterday. But you don't need help. You need to remember to exhale occasionally! |
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| Don't you just hate it when that happens. Been to that dance more times than I care to think abut. |
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