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Without my Glasses (Free verse) by Niphredil dark shadows, and
streaks of white intertwined within;
the peering streetlight reaches curiously
through the window-shade,
leaving little fingerprints.
Up the ladder:
almost cognizant
Down the ladder:
Astronomy and Pharmaceuticals
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.0
Posted: October 1, 2005 5:50 AM PDT; Last modified: October 1, 2005 5:50 AM PDTWeighted score: 5.537883 Overall Rank: 2588 Comments:
Don't mind Zodiac, he's heat stricken over there in the Islamic sun. His grammar's gone kaput, and he thinks glasses will relieve his pain.
As for your poem, I'm having trouble with how glasses affect streaks of white that you see, and haw you could see it any better with glasses, looking through the windowshade.
It's the movie My Girl, starring Macaulay Culkin. 10 points if you knew that.
does clicking on the little hyperlink thingy and reading the title count? ;-)
Sounded familiar. Any movie that kills off Macaulay Culkin gets a 10 from me.
Heh. Where are you from, zodiac, anyway?
Dovina: the poem was written from my viewpoint, inside a dark room; the streetlight is outside and what I can see is the fuzzy light sifting through the window shade. 'streaks of white' - well, they wouldn't be seen as streaks if i had my glasses on :-)
I'm the undiscovered corpse of Qusai Hussein, a.k.a. 'The Cultured Hussein', a.k.a. 'Little Torturepants', a.k.a. 'Bunny'.
I'm also an English major from Cold Mountain, NC, currently living in the Great Arab Armpit.
He always tells us that. Just grin and go on.
What a bind you've got me in! How do I prove I actually do live in the mideast without coming off like a hopeless wanna-be introvert? Oh, no, wait. I don't give a fuck. "Put on his glasses! He was gonna be an acrobat" is the best thing posted on this site in weeks. Its astonishing interworking parts ought to be dissected and studied.
If only I knew what 'being a wanna-be introvert' has to do with anything...
Just for possible future use (you never know) and I hope you don't take offense but how does a heart of America boy keep himself from having his head sawed off by psychotic Islamic fundaMENTALists with rusty hunting knives in the heart of beelzebub's shit heap.
I could be wrong about the beelzebub's shit heap part. If I am I appologize. I might have been thinking of West Virginia at the time.
I speak fluent Arabic jive. It throws off my enemies, giving me time to throw a handful of sand in their eyes and disappear.
Also, I live in the safe part of the Middle East, (the only Middle Eastern country without a major attack against tourists this year! 2100 Safe Days and counting! Woo-hoo,) the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. Also, I'm serious about speaking Arabic jive.
Very readable indeed, although I couldn't tell from experience if this is at all accurate; I shall take your word for it.
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His face hurts, and where is his glasses? He can't see without his glasses! Put his glasses on!
(Harry and Shelly are rapidly approaching Vada, Shelly takes hold of her and tries to pull her away)
Put on his glasses! He was gonna be an acrobat.
HARRY
He's gone sweetheart. He's gone!
VADA
Get away, get away!!