Open Poetry #37 |
Remains of the Forgotten |
Katerie Member
since 2006-01-27
Posts 92Central New York |
Alt, control, delete the moment, Hands outstretched toward vacant jive. A pink eraser, a drop of bleach, Distorted sight on which to thrive. Requiem aternam, eis, Call another, distant song. Jubilate deo, omnis', Ancient text, it won't be long. Figure eight, measured not, A sign of what has yet to come; Slashed down the middle, next to naught, The new found glory of a broken drum. Like a ship blown from it's mooringby a wind off the sea- I have been changed for good. |
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© Copyright 2006 Kate Sands - All Rights Reserved | |||
Katerie Member
since 2006-01-27
Posts 92Central New York |
Anyone? -dies- |
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RedStoneEB Senior Member
since 2003-06-08
Posts 772uk |
alt control delete erasing what used to be |
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Juju Member Elite
since 2003-12-29
Posts 3429In your dreams |
I like the voice in your poem. -Juju -<>-~-<>-~-<>- |
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Huan Yi Member Ascendant
since 2004-10-12
Posts 6688Waukegan |
The second and certainly the third stanzas deserve a better first. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Great write! |
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The Lady Member Rara Avis
since 2005-12-26
Posts 7634The Southwest |
"Requiem aternam, eis, Call another, distant song. Jubilate deo, omnis', Ancient text, it won't be long." Good write. |
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