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Open Poetry #12
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Jazzmole
Junior Member
since 2001-02-15
Posts 30
Texas

0 posted 2001-02-25 10:09 PM



A man, a boy--a father and son,
the uncaught fish and the empty gun,
the vacant seat at my winning run,
how I tried.

Slicing stares like shards of glass,
my punctured soul, the buckle's brass,
the innocence spilled from that broken flask
long has died.

My brother, his seed--a child and dad,
in them I see what I never had,
the friendship, the laughter; I needed so bad,
too late.

In them we set all our hopeful sights,
in them we fly all our windless kites,
in them subside our malicious fights,
and hate.

Michael~

© Copyright 2001 Michael - All Rights Reserved
NC
Member
since 2001-02-20
Posts 89

1 posted 2001-02-25 10:28 PM


a very powerful piece of writing...
well said and done...thanks for posting it

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA
2 posted 2001-02-25 10:40 PM


Yes I wanted that friendship and laughter also...James
SpitFire
Member Elite
since 2000-04-19
Posts 2396

3 posted 2001-02-25 10:48 PM


~I realize that you encourage critiques, but would you settle for a simple comment,...about this piece just stamping itself, imprinting it's 'heart' right on me. Fueled words,...good read. *Peace.
Celeste
Senior Member
since 2000-11-11
Posts 597

4 posted 2001-02-25 11:06 PM


Powerful writing. I applaud. You have a very individual style that I really like. Nice job on this!

"The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new.

Socrates

Poeminister
Senior Member
since 2000-02-26
Posts 1862
Regina SK; Canada
5 posted 2001-02-25 11:08 PM


You form here, I particularly like. Very well expressed.

Poeminister

ethome
Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada
6 posted 2001-02-25 11:10 PM


I know what you mean...I got lucky and had a Grandfather that did all those things with me. I posted a poem here once called Grandpa and many many could relate to the same things...it's a real emotional trauma to be on the outside looking in..... take care ethome

The poet is like a cocoon; in him the caterpillar of the past finds rest, and from him the butterfly of the future emerges.

Jazzmole
Junior Member
since 2001-02-15
Posts 30
Texas
7 posted 2001-02-25 11:23 PM


*blushing* awww, thanks everybody. Most of my writing tends to come out in free-verse style, but for some reason, this felt like it needed rhyme and meter.
Thanks again for the comments, I'm sure Severn will appear with her magic red wand and critique it for me *wink wink*

Michael~

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