Oh, well done! So that's what a sestina is. I'll have to have a go at one. Has it rhythmical requirements, or does it require only the reuse of the end words? strick should be stricken. I don't know what mistiful should be -- misted? mistful?

A nice wandering story, grandmaster Dark angel may correct me on this but I think the line breaks are a bit off. Like the ending, probably the poems best line.

Not dead keen on sestinas, this is good though. A couple of picks. 'salt moisture'? and 'growl for sleep'

The flow of this is very good as always, and I like the three lines leading up to 'pure science'. Science a comment on the design of shoolboy weapons I guess (and pure being a pun on 'pure sciences').

A little too much silliness really. 'My state of mind is a real disgust'???!. I don't care if it does rhyme.

pure science indeed. miss you, btw.

Suspicion of who's making money on said plant and admiring the beauty of plant through the window of a greenhouse.

I'd drop the last line entirely, but you know me.

Where do you meet these shit-heads man? Honestly, hook me up, I need this kind of entertainment in excess, consistently. Can we market Billy Jesus as americas new at-home tap & constant IV drip? I predict it'll make a killing with jewish housewives. And amphetamine freaks with pens. Blessed with ten.

"with the voices of owls" nice.

WOW WHAT A MIND`122£&&^^^

Ilove this pome. brilliant10/10

is this binery. what?

God you are such a fucking arsehole! I have never known anybody wright as much crap as you. How dose your big fat head fit through the door.

I love the poem, I can really feel what the author is telling us. Where'd you get it from u s*** head. otherwise a gr8 poem

nothing gold can stay... i think too much telling for such imagery - were it a story of some type; well maybe it is. dunno.

Got Prozac? It is so depressing but I give it a 7.

OUR friendship. Try taking out as many little words as possible: 'Our friendship, like a maze Forever walking circles, walking backwards. Your voice, my get-away. Taking me from these places, Pulling me out of reality. Your breathes are my pathway, Leading me to peaces. Feelings put on hold, Pushed to the sides. And the rain drops to the ground A razor cutting through the pain. Great poem. No pretense.

wonderful poem. so very true.

yep i have reached a higher level of gayness here..... I have to admit...