I, too, bleed in my heart.
I am the warm and cold symptoms of my lover.
I am the pump that takes from the deep well, the deep well of despairs.
Free flowing, warm ,or cold ,shivered my blood may be.
With the seasons I can change, when she is near him in the Fall I sound like Spring.
When it is Winter , fire is set to me so that I may burn to make her warm.
During the summer I melt for her, so that he can hold her together in the heat.
I am her heart , and I beat a drum for all seasons.
I am in a band, his and hers band.
I have a few fans, and it makes it all worth while.
My fans, they love me.
Allow me to explain myself. I don't remember any of your 'earlier stuff' besides the fact that I didn't like it, which when I read this again doesn't really shock me. It's an abstract poem that's awkwardly written and has whimsically structured sentences. The imagery doesn't really do it for me, as it's too arbitrary, such as for instance "During the summer I melt for her, so that he can hold her together in the heat" seems like it was haphazardly produced by a Random Machine. It's just very random, not well written nor has it any sensible narrative or evokes any kinds of emotions in me other than 'huh?'.
This informative post has been brought to you by Sh0wdowN: attacking your opinions 1-by-1.
Last edited by Sh0wdowN; April 23rd, 2008 at 07:15 AM.
"
After some nights I walk in my sleep.
I dream of a great big valley, one where all can love.
I dream of a valley that never floods of the rain, and is wet only by a few tears.
Politicians, the sound of thunder applauding our efforts, and their lightning enlightens our paths. I dream.
I dream of golden bridges, that are used to get anyone somewhere, a path that glistens.
I dream of money that is all green
I dream of pride that is American.
I dream of a people that is an American people.
The land of promises to an American people .I dream.
I dream of those promises.
I dream of those people.
I dream of America.
I dream !"
I like it! I haven't seen any of your other poems, but this one has a certain flow that just keeps me reading. It doesn't really give me that mental orgasm (sorry, that's the best way I can describe these things), but it's definately a nice piece to read in my opinion
Turn the second one into something really cynical about dreaming, and it could be a good slam poem, or whatever those are called. But those are all about the delivery, mostly.
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