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Electricity
When have i ever felt a life...or alive? Only when I cry. Because the sensation of tears running down your face remind you of how it's possible to dwell on one thing at a time. One thing so real that it connects you with the one time a Life was breathed into your lungs. My Mind is constantly wandering jumping on trains and planes, to only see plains of names and faces, i play name games in places, guesssing the names to every face is.... an unconsious effort to make a connection to something you know of to someone you know nothing about. The eyes are the windows to souls of man. When was the last time you looked through a window, and only saw one thing? I see rainbows yellow takes me to orange orange takes me to red red takes me to purple and purple takes me to blue. Blueish windows with shades of grey make me wonder if everything isn't exact.... between the lines of reality, is still reality. what's not seen doesn't have to be heard. What's not heard can be felt. The stroke of a paint brush from a blind man, isn't corrupted. It is pure. It is what the heart feels as perfect without being disturbed by false ideals of perfection. The stroke of a finger, the souls paintbrush Caresses a canvas protected by flesh, and the lines of a palm. Souls connect as every picture painted has one deliberate message. A message to be dwelled on, with meaning of nothing more or nothing less than what it is. Just like the tears of a child, so happy to feel the worlds energy for the first time, everything is as simple as it is meant to be. Complexities are nothing but.... beauty, balance, and nature taken out of context. I control my tears by rationalizing beauty i havn't been able to comprhend since the day I was born. Beauty someone only comprehends when something is so powerful, it forces them to cry. Beauty that can only be understood when the electricity of a simple touch lights the room even when your eyes are closed. And even the light being vastly greater than that of the sun, it's the touch that forces the tear for understanding beauty in knowing nothing but the exact moment. The light is a truism, known, but not thought of. A by product of the touch that inspires tears. I used to want to die the death of a martyr. I think now, i would rather die crying. |
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I see rainbows
yellow takes me to orange orange takes me to red red takes me to purple and purple takes me to blue. Blueish windows with shades of grey ^Favorite Line. Overall was a nice read. i felt your words. i felt the emotion so well. i like your structure. i like your choice of words also. 8.5/10..very nice man. cant wait to see more from you. :D |
This sentences sums your whole poem up.
"jumping on trains and planes, to only see plains of names and faces, i play name games in places, guesssing the names to every face is.... " well spoken.......its more of spoken word to me than a regular blunt poem. but nice one my friend u at it again |
You know... I was making comments before on another poem of yours complaining about how you vent to much, but, with this piece I think it was done perfectly. Here, you found a healthy balance of venting and letting out your emotions, with lines that engage the reader by speaking from more of a narrative stand point. The imagery was on point aswell, nice and creative lines that never really sounded familliar to me at any point. Uuuum, only thing I could suggest is to work on your structuring. Just neate everything up a bit so that alittle more astetically pleasing you know? But great piece, I really enjoyed the read... Stay up man.
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Well your structure isnt great, but that really doesnt matter in a freeverse poem.
At the start it was more of a poetic rant, but after halfway and towards the end the imagery was ILL. It had so much emotion and you picked exactly the right words to convey it. Good shit. |
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