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Abstracted
wondering if their asphyxiAtion of me was intended to be a hug.
a spherical rectangle, may Belong to a stripper I met- not sure.
a man in a hotel, in hell sitS speaking to shadow puppets next to her.
riddles developed in thwarTed revolutions have no name anymore.
reruns exchanged my recurRing nightmares of bleeding bunnies.
the pages of my life? hard And cold- rippling in your hands…
disinterested in an intuitive Conflict of interests I’m unaware of.
time, a function of man; thaT doesn’t exist without reference.
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Comment by: Manda - 2008-06-22 07:07
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| this poem MAKES you read it fast. makes you out of breath. a bit like when you finally get your coffee to the perfect temp and then you have to chug it before it gets cold and gross, ya know? nonetheless...interesting read, definitely a piece that makes you reread it to see all the great visuals. |
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Comment by: Arley - 2008-06-12 08:27
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| As has been said, the way you implanted ABSTRACT down the middle really gave it a cracked affect which fit the whole piece in my opinion. Good work! |
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Comment by: alien Online- 2008-06-07 09:05
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I think the best line of this is the final one. I found this poem distracting. Maybe it was the closeness of the words, the length of the lines. Not sure. I felt asphyxiated by it and maybe that was your intention. If so, well done. It worked. I like the inner acrostic. That's a nice thing.
Well done. |
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Comment by: crows - 2008-06-07 08:36
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| This is very interesting; the word that kilters down the middle of the poem seems like a crack, and the piece itself struck me with the distinct feeling of being out of sync with oneself. Out of schedule, losing sleep, fever dreams. It's very... palpable, is the word that comes to mind. Well done. |
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