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Open Poetry #12
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Snow
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 2000-10-16
Posts 1170
desert flower looking for rain

0 posted 2001-01-17 03:33 PM



Self Storage

In
back
of
the
closet
in
a
box
marked
"stuff"

I
placed
my
bloody
beating
heart

My
beaten
broken
bones

Never
forgotten
disquieted
dreams

And
quickly
walked
away



"...I am a river in winter,
quiet in the eyes of most
but deep,
swift and full of life
to one, lucky enough to fall through the ice.

© Copyright 2001 Snow - All Rights Reserved
doreen peri
Member Elite
since 1999-05-25
Posts 3812
Virginia
1 posted 2001-01-17 03:35 PM


wow!
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
2 posted 2001-01-17 03:37 PM


ditto doreen
Elizabeth Santos
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-11-08
Posts 9269
Pennsylvania
3 posted 2001-01-17 03:43 PM


That's a great place to hide pain
At least for a While
Until your ready to open the box
This poem hurts

Well done
Liz

mark woolard
Member
since 2001-01-02
Posts 143

4 posted 2001-01-17 04:13 PM


is this a "tell-tale heart"?  if so, it won't be ignored for long.

excellent words!  

mark woolard
Member
since 2001-01-02
Posts 143

5 posted 2001-01-17 04:13 PM


is this a "tell-tale heart"?  if so, it won't be ignored for long.

excellent words!  

mark woolard
Member
since 2001-01-02
Posts 143

6 posted 2001-01-17 04:13 PM


is this a "tell-tale heart"?  if so, it won't be ignored for long.

excellent words!  

SEA
Deputy Moderator 10 ToursDeputy Moderator 5 Tours
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 2000-01-18
Posts 22676
with you
7 posted 2001-01-17 09:04 PM


Snow~ I hope you're able to open that box again soon.....powerful write!   -SEA
Honeybee
Member Ascendant
since 1999-12-26
Posts 5372
Ontario, CANADA
8 posted 2001-01-17 10:42 PM


And I also, with a deep breath do say WOW!  If only you knew how much this speaks of my heart.  This poem deeply moved me, even though I try to hold back the tears.

By miracle may someone open that box
to cradle your heart to life once more,
a knight to kiss the dreams of your soul, to open the door
to a bleeding heart that weeps and rusts,
a safe haven it is, but eventually even stone turns to dust


Take care,
Melissa
< !signature-->

The beauty of poetry gives my soul wings to fly free within dreams




[This message has been edited by Melissa Honeybee (edited 01-17-2001).]

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