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Veins of spilt wine. (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer
With time comes paradox and its riddle, a malformed poem crafted to puzzle the poet convinced of it's insignificance, his frustration stigmatized by capricious alienation. And subtle intricacies emerge incognito from tense silence, this mordant chasm: An absence of bliss, strung-out on methedrine, intolerant of things foolish, mundane, bones sucked dry, left Devoid of substance. Devoid of substance and wrenched, a rogue of the gallows without chance, solaced by knowing the exact date and time his feet shall death dance in an embrace of apathetic emptiness-- intransigent, a ghostly-grim humorist rebel disciple of the passive fist. There's little worth enduring in the company of solitude, disgruntled, occupied with melancholic dreams of self-realization, self-idealization, or resigned to idle contemplation, driven, by scorn and an appetite for self-loathing. Noetic thorns prick fingertips, willow-stanced in retreat. Thoughts stem from an undertow urge to be the victim, despite vulgar bravado-- my will to engage foemen in confrontation countermined, left Devoid of substance. Devoid of substance and wrenched, loud-mouthed, distant, a rogue of the gallows stooped in stance, content to mock death and dance, intransigent; a ghostly-grim humorist suffocated by pessimism.

Up the ladder: "In the Air"

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.6666665
Weighted score: 5.0794687
Overall Rank: 6488
Posted: July 18, 2004 1:03 PM PDT; Last modified: July 18, 2004 1:03 PM PDT
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[8] fevriere @ | 18-Jul-04/1:56 PM | Reply
Cheer up love. "Rogue of the gallows" made me giggle a bit. Otherwise, que tu es formidable. (How you are formidable).
[9] Dovina @ | 18-Jul-04/2:57 PM | Reply
I have crafted poems which have puzzled me in time, became paradoxes and riddles I had not intended. But rather than becoming “convinced of their insignificance . . . or . . . stigmatized by capricious alienation,” I have sometimes reveled in “subtle intricacies [that] emerge incognito from tense silence.” - maybe some of the things in verses 2 and 3. Verse 4 starts to turn this thing around, and verse 5 has the great line, “Thoughts stem from an undertow urge to be the victim.” But rather than nod to the value of the poem’s transformation as it merely sat there, the last verse maintains “a ghostly-grim humorist suffocated by pessimism.” The last three words are pivotal, and I’d like to see them change.
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