Forum Moderators: wheatpenny, Wolfenshire
Writers F.A.Q (Last Updated: 2024 Nov 06 3:50 am)
great poem Ian, love the strong imagery. The line "I pay tribute to my mortality," makes me want more of that moment, also, "I look at my hands, and the imprint on the tiles," really strong line, to me anyway. I wanted more here, in some way it seems as if it could be a part of the tribute. All in all good poem. I look forward to reading more of you. Azha !)
"Every line means something."
Jean Michel Basquiat
Overall, I really like the imagery of the poem and the off-kilter references. Like Charmz, I was also thrown by the hard, unyielding flesh reference. I wondered if the reference it to help establish the subject's insanity but he recognizes his mortality, so I would have thought he'd see his flesh as anything but hard. (Hard implies to me tough.) As always, though, you've given us a poem that makes us think. Thanks!
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"Real" I am real, As I sift the dust in my hands, and watch it settle on the ground. The hard, unyielding ground, that pulses at the beat of my steps. The smells, the lingering senses: I pay tribute to my mortality. My hard, unyielding flesh that rises and falls like the crest of an ocean, parts the air and strikes the bed. And I am flying. The speed, the rush of wind. These are not thoughts of the divine, rather, I am toyed upon by demons of laughter. And my will breaks. And they show me such images, such scenes of lights of deception, that I rage at the feel of myself. In the hard, unyielding ground, I pound my flesh to the floor of my cell, I look at my hands, and the imprint on the tiles, and I yell. I am real? Ian F. Brillembourg