Ranger
on a days journey by donmiguel1960
8 Feb 2007, 8:31 AM
What do you mean when you say 'today I've awoken week in spirit'? Is it a typo, or are you making a profound temporal and spiritual claim?
Genius
This is a joke piece, isn't it?
Brilliant, every teenager should read this.
I was sure this was going to be a 'My Sharona' parody; now I feel shortchanged...
Good lord, what is this? Confessional was last week at the -=All_Saints=- chapel, where they dished out shreds of prose to reformed KFC addicts. But seriously, this should probably be re-arranged into prose; your tendency seems to be one of storytelling. I liked it, and didn't know whether to laugh, cry or strap on a bulletproof vest - but I'd prefer it in a more accessible mode.
Hi rockmage. I've seen your votes on my pages and thought you didn't seem to like my stuff. A zero on every poem. Am disappointed, but thanks for the attention.
One of the best poems I've read here. He's a very lucky man.
Some of the best half rhyme I've read here.
a beautiful dreamy love poem amanda, full of sunshine and love and blue skies and rainbow colours of joy and love.
Excellent.
Wow Dark so many and excellent!
A meagre ten does not do justice but i offer it anyway.
Ranger, you are probably right but the whole Cartesian
mind-set seems to be fair game though rather abstract which makes for a difficult subject to write about.
Thanks for the read and comments.
A very sad and deep poem Ranger. Ghosts have a habit of haunting you for years and then suddenly fading away back to eternity just when you need them most.
Here in the Jungle the tribes pay homage to their ghosts all the time and have places to honour them. Some people may say thats weird but its strangely compelling and helps them and me to talk to people who have gone.
SupremeDreamer
on Cupid Missed Two Junkies (slightly clearer, rambling draft) by Ranger
8 Feb 2007, 3:54 PM
This needs a bit of consideration, and more defined shaping of the scene.
While the title presupposes the theme, it as it stands now is a little confusing to me; basically, I'm wondering if you have a pretty good image & mental snapshot of the of this man, posed in that odd bodily articulation assumed just before & during the coveted arrival of deathly-bliss; the opiate rushing
of the soul towards oblivion...
Or if he just discovered that it was laced with acid and had a sporadic thought, or image, of enhancing the coming madness with the consumtion of an bloody orange.
In short, I'd be happy to see this piece recieve some sharper definition. The image and thought this poem grasps for is worth perfecting. Till then, mate, heres a seven.
Does not even make it to the lowest form of greeting card.
Too many capital letters. You must be a cunt.
Try applying here:
http://poemranker.com/suggestion-browse.
What is the "either of sleep"?