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Tale of a lonely heart (Free verse) by Bhaskaryya Nurtured betwixt eyelashes
Cradled by silver moonshine
Breastfed by emotions subdued
A young dream gently conjures
Within the bolted entrails
Of my lonesome heart;
Opening the prison of my soul
And allowing my rusted thoughts
To sear up high and once more
Transcend the boundaries of free air-
Elevated much higher from ground reality.
And with the placid breeze drifts along
The sweet aroma of your presence,
Mingled with the mellow whispers
Of your soothing voice calling out
None but my name!
Yet again, I embrace you in my longing arms
And the dew drops cascading from my eyes
Falls upon your tender lips
As they softly touch upon mine.
Those dark braids of yours
Cover me within yourself
Casting me away forever (or so I think)
From this dreary and futile world
And once more you fill up the void in my heart
Created by yourself in the ânowâ distant reality.
Itâs loneliness herself, I realize,
Who beckons you once more to me,
Though she knows she is bidding farewell
To her own existence.
(Till another morn!)
Up the ladder:
TrIcKy, tRiCky
Down the ladder:
My Barber Cut My Hair Too Long
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: N/A
Posted: January 20, 2005 10:53 PM PST; Last modified: January 20, 2005 10:53 PM PSTWeighted score: 4.762871 Overall Rank: 11450 Comments:
This starts out brilliantly, then falters badly into hallmark. I'll describe what I DO like:
Nurtured betwixt eyelashes ---- Brilliant. An absolutely splendid image of a tiny feral foetus feeding on the aqueous humour of a young woman's eyeball. I would make it even more intense, add something along the lines of "the tiny pale body waxing ever stronger as the silv'ry globe shrivels" Cradled by silver moonshine --- ooohh, you DO use silver. CLEVER LAD. I see it. The eyeball glows with preternatural light, perhaps not shriveling at all, the inner magic ever renewing the glistening sphere, the pure light spilling out around the pale body of the feeding foetus as it...feeds Breastfed by emotions subdued ---- INDEED!!!!! the emotions hunted down, beaten with cudgels until subdued and bundled mewling into a sack, the tip of a corner of which is cut off, and the sack, pressed heavily betwixt the iron bands of angst and desire until the pesky emotions yield their nourishing juices, is used to feed the infant when it has outgrown the eyeball. I'm THERE! A young dream gently conjures Within the bolted entrails Of my lonesome heart; ---- I hear you brother. I too long ago found it necessary to bolt the entrails of my heart to a sort of scaffolding of sarcasm lest it implode in a disaster of unwonted empathy. Opening the prison of my soul ---- here I think you begin to falter; "prison of my soul" is somewhat clichéd And allowing my rusted thoughts ---- YES rusted, because they are ignored, disused, UNWANTED. Brilliant image. To sear up high and once more Transcend the boundaries of free air- Elevated much higher from ground reality. --- I would add lines after the first line, something along the lines of "leaving a branded trail/the long length of her luminous body" --and then from this point I feel, really, that you trail away into a sort of hallmark-ish welter of schmalzy weltshmerz.
Felt the urge to soften my stomping? Ah, well 'n good.
Welcome back "schmalzy weltschmerz" is good. Are you still in Deutschland?
I've no idea 'bout Schmalzy weltschmerz but could you please actually comment on my poem?
Bhaskaryya, I read your profile, which says your 17 and English is a second language for you.
First, let me commend you on your command of English, which is far better than that of many native speakers here on the 'wanker. Second, let me ask you, why do you want comments on your pome? Because it's a fucking terrible poem. Do you want to hear that, and why, or do you want comments from people who will tell you you're a sweet creative boy genius who's touched their heart and omigod I felt EXACTLY this way LAST TUESDAY!!!!111 schmalzy means "effusively or insincerely emotional"*, like for example a bad pop song that makes you roll your eyes, or a hallmark greeting card weltschmerz is a German word (but often used in English) that means "world-weariness: sadness on thinking about the evils of the world"* can you see how "schmalzy weltschmerz" might apply to the second half of your pome? *definitions from WordNet In any case, pay little attention to me. I'm a cranky old git with only the tiniest smidgeon of talent for writing, long ago dried up and shriveled away, who comes occasionally to pomeranker purely for the cathartic experience of ridiculing and bullying those with even less talent than myself.
Thought you might like that. Yes. Read somewhere you are in the Middle East. True? Or superfluous hyperbole from a 'wanker mudslinging contest?
True. I'm working on becoming fluent in any language which allows me to travel easily in dirty countries chockfull of brown people. After Afrikaans, Hindi and Malay, I should be done.
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What in bloody Jesu?!?!?!? One, if you're going to write a poem concerning romance, love, or sex (if there was sex in this I still would feel deep disgust and hatred.) never follow the above shit-smeer example, cliche it's defining characteristic, besides the smell.
You know what I sense, over-all, and more importantly? You need to go get laid, urgently.
BTW, what in the name of moses fuckslave is up with that "till another morn!" shit? That's making the assumption that you will ever see the light of Morn, Nirvana, or the glistening twinkle of the Almighty Clit "betwixt" a womans vertical nether-lips.