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Passions in Poetry

listening

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Riley
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Senior Member
since 07-18-2002
Posts 1122
in the pouring rain


0 posted 05-09-2003 05:23 PM       View Profile for Riley   Email Riley   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Riley


diamonds rest in the black eyes
broken by the glass bottle
its the flesh that is only cut
never my words that tell you deciet
tears burn acid rocks into the ground
my grasp on the bar grows older
and it holds the meaning
of a bloody tide on the shore

Windows stained with the fog, words written in by a girl.

© Copyright 2003 Riley Grant - All Rights Reserved
Janet Marie
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since 01-22-2000
Posts 18986


1 posted 05-09-2003 10:04 PM       View Profile for Janet Marie   Email Janet Marie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Janet Marie

its the flesh that is only cut
never my words that tell you deciet
===========================
my grasp on the bar grows older
and it holds the meaning
of a bloody tide on the shore

===========================

powerful mix of angsty emote and imagery...
a haunting surreal write,
well done poetess Riley.

You're the best I've ever felt ...
it's so wrong not to be with you.
It's getting harder to stay away,
it stops my heart just to be with you.

SH

Riley
Deputy Moderator 5 ToursDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Senior Member
since 07-18-2002
Posts 1122
in the pouring rain


2 posted 05-10-2003 09:15 AM       View Profile for Riley   Email Riley   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Riley

Janet Marie: thanks for replying , glad u liked.


luv
riley

Windows stained with the fog, words written in by a girl.

Local Parasite
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Member Elite
since 11-05-2001
Posts 2929
Transylconia, Winnipeg


3 posted 05-13-2003 04:53 PM       View Profile for Local Parasite   Email Local Parasite   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Local Parasite's Home Page   View IP for Local Parasite

This is interesting, Riley.  Difficult to understand, but I'm going to try...

Judging from your title, this poem is about helplessness... your grip on the bar grows older, your tears burn acid rocks into the ground, and only the flesh is cut... it's a kind of struggle you describe, isn't it?  A struggle to understand, to see, to listen... and to actually comprehend the meaning of the bloody tide on the shore.

Fascinating... and pure imagination... this is the kind of writing I love to read from you, Riley Leanne... stuff that just captures and captivates me like I know you can.

You've got talent, that's for sure...

Parasite

Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.

~Percy Bysshe Shelley

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