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Open Poetry #45
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Capricious
Member
since 2002-09-14
Posts 89
California, USA

0 posted 2009-12-04 09:48 AM



The blinking cursor.  Pristine virtual pages
Burning themselves into my retinas, mocking me
With unharnessed potential.  It’s ironic --
All living creatures strive for harmony, for some
Balance with their environment, searching for that
Perfect niche that meets their every need –
And that’s where I live.  Oh, not perfect exactly,
But close enough to feel complete at the end of the day,
To sink into dreams without shadows, awaken
Without dread, without the terrible need
That drives the more desperate souls.

That’s just it, I think.  The need is missing.
The emptiness that burns, that freezes,
The slithering darkness that coils in my belly,
Crowding the deep reaches of my soul, until
It awakens some dormant primal instinct --
That urge to cleanse what is unclean,
To excise the cancer, to chew off the diseased limb
Lest the whole be corrupted.
The rest is easy; mental vomit, as it were,
Delicately rearranged into literary Rorschach.
But contentment is the antiverse; poetic apathy
Was in the small print, I suppose.

Nobody ever reads that.

© Copyright 2009 Linda Anderson - All Rights Reserved
BluesSerenade
Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549
By the Seaside
1 posted 2009-12-04 11:32 AM


Your title kind of threw me, but your writing is really good.

enjoyed the pondering...

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738

2 posted 2009-12-04 05:00 PM


You make me wish I'd studied more, so I can do more than applaud you with A for content.



"The need is missing."

It'll come back.

It's like feeding cats. *laughing*

Beauty you are, inside and out. There's more lines here that I love, but lines? tsk...

Far too many went up my nose and now I stand in too many trying to repair the damage of days gone by. Now I write bad lines too.

(And I HAD sworn off the stuff.)

The need comes back.

It's lovely to read you, and such fine finesse you have...I do believe I've always loved you.

Thanks for a wonderfully intriguing poetic supper.

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