Open Poetry #43 |
"Wet Paint." |
viking_metal Senior Member
since 2007-02-02
Posts 1337In a Jeep, Minnesota. |
“Wet Paint.” you the freshly painted wall still drying still aromatic in the chemical sense and I the small child too young to know that I could smudge and smear you look at you now ten years later you talk more and say so much less. I was too young. if only I could have read the signs. (I haven't posted here in years, and I realize this is still pretty -swear word- rough. I apologize, but I hope you'll all have something to say, no matter the charge!) -Paul [This message has been edited by viking_metal (09-02-2008 10:24 PM).] |
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© Copyright 2008 Paul Weisbrod - All Rights Reserved | |||
OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
I enjoyed this. It left me wondering what the signs were and what they were signs of. Seeing you asked, I would have changed the last line of the first stanza into something that fitted the rest of the poem better. Don't apologise - just enjoy! - Owl |
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inkedgoddess Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-19
Posts 7392Ohio |
goes deeper than mere wet paint liked this |
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ThisDiamond Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353Michigan, USA |
I got this analogy very clearly... Young love, newly developing selves and senses...both easily damaged. You wrote this very well. Touching write. |
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Robert E. Jordan Member Rara Avis
since 2008-01-25
Posts 8541Philadelphia, Pennsylvania |
Yo viking_metal, Yes, talking walls remain as a problem everywhere. Bobby |
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viking_metal Senior Member
since 2007-02-02
Posts 1337In a Jeep, Minnesota. |
Owl- Thanks much, I appreciate it. Why don't you think it fits well? inkedgoddess- Thank you! Thisdiamond- Thanks! Love is for weenies. Robert- Agreed, matey. Seems like most of my ex-lovers turn into them. |
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viking_metal Senior Member
since 2007-02-02
Posts 1337In a Jeep, Minnesota. |
"CAUTION: WET PAINT" look at you the freshly painted windowsill still drying still aromatic in the chemical sense look at me just a tender child too young to know that I could smudge and smear you looking at you now ten years later dried and aged with my faithful little fingerprints I was too young to read the big yellow signs. (thoughts?) |
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