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 Posted: Tue Oct 18, 2011 6:06 pm
Alright, this does not have a title, if you can think of something suitable, I would love to hear your idea.
******
I only like whiskey when I taste it on your kiss.
You breathe into me and I can feel that familiar burn,
Down my throat, into my chest, and down into the bowls of my soul.
You have infected me with the poison of your choice,
The bottle lies empty in the other room,
As we swim in the dark blue ocean of my multi-thread count sheets.
Not that you can feel Their special magic,
All you can feel is my rough skin,
And all I can feel is you under it, penetrating my resolve.
Never mind all the times I swore to forget you,
My words obviously made no difference,
Because here you are again.
And I love you when you’re like this,
Your inhibitions melted away by that which makes your breathe sweet,
And your lids heavy over those beautiful eyes,
Green like olives that I wish to swallow whole,
So that I could always keep a part of you with me, even after this moment has passed.
This moment where the world has stopped, and the night is quiet,
And there is only You and I, clinging onto the memory of what used to linger
In the tension between us.
And we remember that once, there used to be an us,
Long before the evils of responsibility weighed heavy on our hearts,
Before the days of endless, sleepless nights,
Of paper work and payrolls and expectation.
But for now, all of that is forgotten,
Hidden away in a fog brought on by that magic potion,
That you produced from that brown paper bag.
Yes, we can forget for now,
Forget the terrors that will be waiting for us in the harsh morning sun,
Forget ourselves, just for a moment,
So that we may find ourselves once more, born anew out of one another’s flesh,
If only for a few short hours.
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Posted: Fri Oct 21, 2011 12:07 am
you had some really good lines, so good that the mediocre lines in between turned to mush in my head, and brought the poem down a few notches a designated awesomeness. the soft spots of your peach is what made it not so appetizing. i would either spruce them up or cut them out.
i think it may have been your unrealistic need to give to much of the story, and your sense of plot took over your wonderful word art. keep your segments clean, or no one will want to eat your orange...or just clean up the dull parts of your poem and you have genuine genius.
idk what im saying im tired, but yah. yah what ever i said up there is probly good enough...
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Posted: Mon Oct 24, 2011 12:34 pm
out of controll you had some really good lines, so good that the mediocre lines in between turned to mush in my head, and brought the poem down a few notches a designated awesomeness. the soft spots of your peach is what made it not so appetizing. i would either spruce them up or cut them out. i think it may have been your unrealistic need to give to much of the story, and your sense of plot took over your wonderful word art. keep your segments clean, or no one will want to eat your orange...or just clean up the dull parts of your poem and you have genuine genius. idk what im saying im tired, but yah. yah what ever i said up there is probly good enough... Which parts exactly need to be improved upon or cut out completely?
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