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I never did appreciate
The art of folding paper.
The simple stars which fell
Between forging friends
And text book conversation,

To amaze, win praise
Land misshapen, wasted
At the bottom of a blazer pocket.

Those hands which creased the heavens into angles
Years later, took pen to paper;

Dear upon - dear upon - dear?

Letters which could read themselves,
Sealing their own envelopes,
Prophetic wax lips
Dotting each delicate ‘I
With a kiss.

Stretched fingers brushing equal distance,
Tiny fists cramped with resolve,
Your pretty nails
Depicting a child’s grace,
Dreaming of sugar, sweet touches and cigarettes.

The days span a palms touch,
Courting intimacy.

You soldered our memories
Into a frangible faux fiction
And I, the poet?
Found an apathetic knack,
Of seldom writing back.
©2008-2009 ~Bexica
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Submitted: April 28, 2008
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for Amy.
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Comments


:wow:

and this is why I like your poetry :)

you've started off with something that could mean anything, which sends me thinking of what it could be about,
and then and then
the second stanza! :worship:

and You soldered our memories
Into a frangible faux fiction
And I, the poet?
Found an apathetic knack,
Of seldom writing back.
:heart:

with the boldness in some parts and questions it's got a personal meaning that while I'm not completely sure I've understood, there's enough imaginative text here for me to create my own meaning.

:love: Bravo, I say.

--
Dum spiro spero.
Wow, your writing is just as beautiful as ever.

The simple stars which fell
Between forging friends
And text book conversation


Those hands which creased the heavens into angles

That line tells so much to me.
<3

--
Now ask me if there's water in hell.
this is one of the most beautiful things I have read in the last year..

--
It's always more rotten than it smells.
Thank you.
It's the story of a friendship, or part of it at least.

Interpret it however you like my friend. Your feedback is much appreciated =)

--
In what furnace was they brain?
Thank you =)

--
In what furnace was they brain?
Thank you, I believe beautiful things stem from beautiful people I guess. Writing about someone you love (when it's not of the unrequited kind) yields pretty words.

--
In what furnace was they brain?
giving poetry a fresh dose of essence :) thank sub3r3 for the link...

--
If you have an opinion,
know that I have two.
I shall do again and have done previously =)
Thank you.

--
In what furnace was they brain?
I always end up reading your poems over and over. Instinctively, I think, "I like it!" but I want to provide a better comment than that.

The rhyme at the end is nicely done, deft and precise. Congrats on that.

Blah blah blah perfect imagery blah blah blah perfect word choice etc etc etc.

I'm trying to think of some kind of improvement. I see two things, and neither is terribly strong. First off, the content of the poem, that is, the story behind it, seems thinly expressed. I can't think of any way to strengthen, so that's not much help.

The other thing is that it might be too unaccessible by less educated readers. However, I cringe at writing that. That's not an issue, it's motivation for people to think more.

Good job.

--
Are you sure which side of the glass you are on?

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