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Forget

Only brush the leaves from your eyes,
push open the gate and get out
of the woods into open fields -
two steps more and the sun dips
at your shoulder
and a cold shadow flops
at your feet.
There is space here. You'd forget
if only the halo sun would
god damn it stop
burning your bald patch.
The guillotine horizon
knives you openly.
Left the gate unlatched
didn't you and that's the thing:
now they can get out too.
Remember: I wrote you.
©2007-2009 ~Boogster
:iconboogster:

Author's Comments

Another drafty thing.

Comments


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:iconwot:
I think I like this. :) I'm not good with "Open" poetry as such, but I like the shift at the end (if it was deliberate) which seems to move the poem from less of a physical thing to imagination. I love the last line... its a weird combination of mildly strange and also firm. I can't find much to actually "criticise", I'm afraid. Its a very interesting poem, and you have lots of really strong pieces of imagery (my particular favourite being "guillotine horizon"). I hope you keep writing poetry. Its good stuff.

--
"I am ugly, but I can buy the most beautiful woman. Which means to say that I am not ugly, for the effect of ugliness, its repelling power, is destroyed by money." ~ Karl Marx
:icontinyplaidninja:
I've never thought of shadows flopping before. It's an interesting image. I like it! ... and the rest of the poem, of course. :)

--
I haven't lost my mind; I know exactly where I left it.
:ninja:

"13 pi over 6 does not equal pi over 6. It's just kind of one of those 'duh' things."
-Dr. Harnett during Math Analysis

Details

July 28, 2007
670 bytes

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