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Corner Pub #2

untitled

f13rc373n4c17y
Junior Member

since 2005-06-01

Posts 22
Maryland, USA

0 posted 2005-06-23 01:47 AM

i wouldn't really call this a poem...eh, call it what you want...

sheathed into a dank cavern,
my eyes gleam no more with light.
a plastic lighter is lit;
with pink lids, i see the maze.

circuitous this trail seems.
endless in mind; infinite
pot-holes paralyze this I.
like a steam engine, low flame.

with no sweat and no water;
lighter continues to burn.
lids are singed with raw and rare.
trapped, haunted for time times google.

and, my name is Brian, for those who wondered about my username.

Joyce Johnson

Member Rara Avis

since 2001-03-10

Posts 9912
Washington State

1 posted 2005-06-23 01:52 AM

Welcome to our corner. I need a few clues to fully understand your poem but I am sure the meaning is there. Keep up the good work. Joyce

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

2 posted 2005-06-23 08:50 AM

Brian~
Welcome to our little corner of the poetic world~

There are layers to this penning ...
hoping to unearth some of them~

I liked this -

'circuitous this trail seems.
endless in mind'

- and thought the lighter flame significantly shed just enough light
for these thoughts~

*Huglets*
~*Marge*~

~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost,
the spirit rejoices over what it has left.
- Sufi epigram <))><

Email [email protected]

f13rc373n4c17y
Junior Member

since 2005-06-01

Posts 22
Maryland, USA

3 posted 2005-08-06 04:05 AM

I entered this poem into the most recent Poetry.com Amateur poetry contest and have come out a semi-finalist so far...hoping for the annual winner award

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