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shrine and the bastard of candi'sland

Her
he
the old world sheets
full of the daze
of morning
a lonely fat fly
drones
the fan searches
swirling a blast
of warm damp
air
like old bathwater about
glittering it tickles her
toe shakes it loose
continues down the
dream

on the chair level to
the bed in the snakeskin
holster
the money clip
his eye open half hidden
behind greying hair
watching news
the rubble strewn floor
her clown lamp
with its shade
compact of high test
hes been happy with
her through the wild times
In a gutted dripping candle
emplacement
a cracked photo of a smiling
face

the curtians sway like kelp
submerged in the swirl
the heady tang of flavor
and harshly savored

beneath her head
a butterfly gift
on her seventeenth birthday

lives shoplifted of innocent
hearts abducted
in moves magnificent

she only reaches him when
hes stoned
they watch his stars glittering
across the dusk
she becomes his vision
his special dancer
before the sadness
consumes him like cancer

....

Editing stage: 

Comments

Your poetry is as evocative as always yet I fail to grasp this emotionally,
no doubt my fault,not yours.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

you dont even try to put in where you find grip....or emotion..you just slam it....go away...if you cant relate dont try.....

author comment

did I offend? I did say
"no doubt my fault, not yours."

I want to try, you know I have deep respect for your work.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

A sadness depicted, a photo glanced as the memory twinges the thoughts.
If only you could see with clear mind the beauty and innocence of the young girl would swamp you as it did those years ago.
A great write I think I can follow the thoughts of the one that can only see through a haze of drugs.
Not a place I have been but can visualise the sights and emotion these things bring to our clouded thoughts.
Take care Young one, as always, Ian..

.
Give critique to help keep Neopoet great.
Unconditional love to you all.
"Learn to love yourself first"
Yours as always, Ian.T, Sparrow, and Yenti

many can...I like that..u try.............come others..I will respond......
thank U

author comment

.I havent seen any poetry in ages..........
you always have excuses...bah.....

author comment

you have always been prolific, I have never been.
You don't want excuses, you want poetry. I don't know if I can any more.

I don't understand your aggression though.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

im not or try to be any other poet....Im my own poet....you dont have too understand anything beyond that....I kick your ass as a poet and brother....call it out....on the road tis how it tis we lived it...you there in your time...me here in my time...Is what it Is my chum! Its poetry...like songs..words..graffitti art....not meant to come with instructions explaining it like chemical science....this is all inside stuff...word art..voodoo ju ju magic.....I know you have lived...and you know...this stuff is not all that easy too write...I dont think writing is easy for many...to bash it or disregard it...Oh I have great respect but I dont get it emotionally...flippy...unless your that thick...maybe you are....maybe thats the block too to writing...I unblocked that a long time ago..I just kept kicking it out of my way....I lived most of my poems in one way or another...which means they are indeed authentic....and to have lived them means I risked..knowing I was going too lose in love...in emotional terms..financial etc...the gain later on has been tenfold...here in my city in repsect....in writing here and many other writings sites I now compose on...Out there in the big world....people brace you and punch you in the face if and only because they dont like your size..your look...if you are gay..too loud..too old..wear glasses..too pretty..and its getting worse...or wave guns in your face or knives..had all that shit and Im still alive...cool is everything...but people are not raised with it anymore...kids write each other poetry and lyrics and they have their own sites..which they should...old people dont belong where the kids hang....I write man....I just write...and Im good! I get good reports from where I am elsewhere also....but Im not great..which Im happy with....Im not trying to be...

im happy with the poem........title too...all my work..
a lot of it got lost but thats life..
life is about living not about musuem and archiving
everything..everyperson even

they live...they go out and have their lives..
the two in the poem have different lives
they are in each others moment
for different and many many reasons
you dont ask people like that
simple things
because there are no simple
answers

back to this..it is what is is...
like writing

I miss your writing....

author comment

no excuses. I'll write when I write.

And when I'm not writing I'm working for Neopoet. Trying to find and encourage new members through the social networks. You can help too. Just put up flyers on local noticeboards.

We desperately need new members, new blood, new life.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

this site is alive and well..
levelled out at the moment...
see what 2016 shall bring!!

author comment

"like a cancer" that would skip it smoother..weird..but im thinking music too...jazz..half beats..broken half octaves and riser slide notes...crazy..."consumes him like a cancer" the tempo would run better...that is all...over and out!

author comment
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