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Literature Text
Apnoea reigns,
and love
is death in a mirror,
when a cold candle
lungs
for her burning breath,
and her fiery heart
strives
for his sacred chest.
Waxen tears bleed,
as immortality
breaks the mirror,
cursing them forever.
and love
is death in a mirror,
when a cold candle
lungs
for her burning breath,
and her fiery heart
strives
for his sacred chest.
Waxen tears bleed,
as immortality
breaks the mirror,
cursing them forever.
Literature
four cylinder iconoclast
ephemeral sun shower
August eve
light green
and the enjoyable rhythm-
clutchshiftreleasegas
clutchshiftreleasegas
until my economy wonder
rolls to the power band in
fourth-
a smooth suburban run
past mixed-use
commercial
shaded side roads to
familial developments whence associations rule
heat dust bathe off forgotten lanes
pathing to the no longer
railway stops of
past sugar cane turpentine towns
cattle still rule to my south
but this four cylinder iconoclast
would suffer to be lost on
their single long roads
bop bobble downshift turn
bookended by tall city tall shadows
I hope hop through yellows
scrumbledumble rumbling
brick streets of oth
Literature
O Fevrale
Witching hour, welcomed with a sigh,
bare-breasted and ink-stained in the night.
Half in love in this half-life half-light;
pisat O Fevrale navsnryd, dreaming
of the gods. Wanderer, today I died and
died again, and whispered prayers
to clasped hands… until the nestled
droplets fell away like sunrays at dusk;
and when moonrise came, I sang again.
Literature
Acid Wash
Even if it were true
That to savor each and every second of our time on earth
Would be as foolish an attempt as counting all the
Specks of sand spread across the shores
Of the east coast waters,
If by doing so would mean that I could
Undo time and distance's doing and
Have you by my side once more
Then trust me, babe, I will start counting
From this moment on, diligently so-
With burning eyes and drowning senses,
Till my fingernails turn to specks themselves
And my hair reminiscent of sea foam
There will never be an obsession like mine- over your soul
The lack and longing from my core leaves me salivating,
Leaves me a special kind of
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Apnoea - The cessation of breathing.
© 2012 - 2024 Pr0metheusUnb0und
Comments19
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Hi, I'm critiquing on behalf of 
. 
I think this is a good piece with lots of potential. "Apnoea reigns,/and love/is death in a mirror," is a good set of lines that really set the tone for a good piece. In fact, I like all the lines here except for "when a cold candle/lungs/for her burning breath,". I do see what you're trying to do with lungs/longs, but it still doesn't really make sense when reading. Wordplay is great, but it's always important to consider whether it actually fits in the poem, not just thematically, but technically.
Overall, I think this is a decent piece that could best be improved by working on making it more unique, since it does seem a little bit cliché in theme. Still, you have potential and passion, so I think you can do it. Plus this piece is from last year, so you've probably developed your style since then. Keep up the good work!
. I think this is a good piece with lots of potential. "Apnoea reigns,/and love/is death in a mirror," is a good set of lines that really set the tone for a good piece. In fact, I like all the lines here except for "when a cold candle/lungs/for her burning breath,". I do see what you're trying to do with lungs/longs, but it still doesn't really make sense when reading. Wordplay is great, but it's always important to consider whether it actually fits in the poem, not just thematically, but technically.
Overall, I think this is a decent piece that could best be improved by working on making it more unique, since it does seem a little bit cliché in theme. Still, you have potential and passion, so I think you can do it. Plus this piece is from last year, so you've probably developed your style since then. Keep up the good work!