This Poem was Submitted By: cheyenne smyth On Date: 2012-03-10 18:22:59 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!To Listen to Music While Reading this Poem, just Click Here!
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Twisted Sheets In shadowed words the lovers write
between the lines of misery
that succumb to signs of emptiness
Fixed sunny wings now tender lies
a mockery in twisted sheets
rebuking night’s lilac hues
They opened countless paths
in many ways lingered there
what used to be their ebony night
is wisps of light in veiled guise
They rise to touch arid lips
once quenched with caring words.
Without a sound
they hold their quill
with gentle hands
and lay their ink anew
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Copyright © March 2012 cheyenne smyth
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2012-04-07 00:10:53
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Cheyenne,
You "step out" more here, but still not enough. I like "lines of misery" very much.
MSS
This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2012-03-25 19:19:09
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hello Cheyenne. This is touching and an arousing write. I think your word choices are really good too. One word that kind of 'got me' was when you said, 'fixed wings'....I like the way you brought it to summary too. Its a great peice, and well written.
Ellen
This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2012-03-10 21:06:33
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.60000
Now this I like. You are not running on poetic empty here. For you are finding the shimmer and sparkle of wonderful sounds so natural to flow they escape any complaint of contrivance. My best choice is in, "They rise
to touch arid lips/once quenched"...sounds to match the sensual imagery. The last stanza is a superb image in
itself so rich it shades into illusion, euphemism and then simile. To liken written composition to love making
in partner with intent is both novel and evoking. A beautiful, sensual poem. JCH
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2012-03-10 19:41:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
cheyenne, this is a piece that were I to know nothing of its meaning, still it would be a repeatable reading for the pleasure of such.
The analogy of writing and romance, or loss thereof, is quickening. That the consummation would provide the syntax for the story, although not a new concept, you have written new life into the moment.
-used to be ebony night- and – once quenched with caring words- would almost lead one to believe the inspiration for composition is no as –arid- as the lips, and yet, whether with renewal of a fresh love, or the ability to scribe the passions of heartache, the writer finds her way to create once more. –lay hands to ink anew- and of course, since you thrive the analogy throughout- there is the carnal side of such –inking-
a wonderful piece of writing.
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