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Literature Text
We spent our nights star gazing
on the top of that local bar on 5th street.
You said you loved me by night,
that no star or moon in any given universe
could compare to me; that we were lost warriors
searching for a home within the roots of one another.
I believed myself a wandering ghost among the living,
searching for missing bones and the warmth of another's grave.
You shook me then,
kissing me where it hurt most-
just to test a theory.
You whispered,
"Like dead birds,
you are not faceless;
your rib cage has a meaning."
And I believed I loved you then
underneath the moon and stars
tipsy on your smile and your words
and your warmth.
Your hands must be the thieves
who stole these thin bones of mine-
because, I never wanted you more.
on the top of that local bar on 5th street.
You said you loved me by night,
that no star or moon in any given universe
could compare to me; that we were lost warriors
searching for a home within the roots of one another.
I believed myself a wandering ghost among the living,
searching for missing bones and the warmth of another's grave.
You shook me then,
kissing me where it hurt most-
just to test a theory.
You whispered,
"Like dead birds,
you are not faceless;
your rib cage has a meaning."
And I believed I loved you then
underneath the moon and stars
tipsy on your smile and your words
and your warmth.
Your hands must be the thieves
who stole these thin bones of mine-
because, I never wanted you more.
Literature
Body Speak, Mouth Don't.
"I need a favour. You got a minute?"
No. No I don't.
My heart feels ripped out of my chest and trampled on too often.
My ears open to screams in the morning.
My eyes close crying every night.
My mind always turns dreams into nightmares.
My lungs contract too soon for me to catch my breath.
My worries far outweigh my years.
My brain feels overworked, overwrought, so tired.
My stomach cramps every night and I curl up in pain.
My knees weaken often but I'm still standing.
My mouth goes dry and I can't speak.
My hands dampen because I have too much to think about.
My bones feel weaker than they ever have before.
But I don't think it
Literature
Cinnamon Souls
"You're mixing water in your coke again."
"I know."
"You do that when you worry."
"I'm always worried."
"No, you're usually cinnamon-in-your-tea worried. This is water-in-coke worried and that is seriously beginning to freak me out."
"I know."
"..."
"What?"
"What are you worried about?"
"You're going to think it's stupid."
"Try me."
"Well...do you ever wonder about the kind of guy you're waiting for?"
"I think we all wonder about that guy, love."
"I've been thinking about him more often than not lately. What he would be like, I mean."
"Oh. Well...if it helps any, I know what mine would be like."
"Really?"
"Sure. He will be tal
Literature
Bones
"There are good days and there are bad days," you would say to me as you would try and explain away why the whiskey bottle was empty again this morning, why you smelled like her and why you thought it was best to let me know what you had done. At least that way, you were absolved of the gift of lying; the one your bones were too light to lift and just couldn't take, by bestowing me with betrayal.
My mother would bring me an encouraging cup of tea in a giant pink mug instead of a cup and explain, "There are good days and there are bad days." Her eyes were always full of positive energy and strength and good will. I look back to those days and
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This just slipped out of my brain the moment I woke up this morning, so here--have some romantic feel goods!
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Hi there,
I will be critiquing this poem on behalf of <img class="avatar" src="a.deviantart.net/avatars/s/u/s…" alt="" title="SuperWritersHelp"/>!
Thank you for requesting a critique and being open to having your work critiqued. Please remember that critiques represent only one person's opinion; they are designed to look at both pros and cons in order to help you become a better writer; and they are never attacks, and therefore need not be defended against.
I like the dramatic, dark atmosphere of this poem. I also like the sense of movement created by the changes between the two situations, of two people being outside, and of the undead speaker. The contrast of the dark image of the protagonist being undead and wandering with the physical image of him/her being shaken and kissed is particularly strong. The repetition of bone images also connects images and the piece as a whole.
There are a couple of areas in this poem that I feel would be strengthened with a change of words or more clarification. For instance, at the end of the first stanza, "within the roots of one another" is unspecific, as it does not create a very strong image in the reader's mind. A clear image that relates to "lost warriors" could make this part so much stronger. Consider images that relate to warriors: armor, colours, weapons, reasons for fighting, strong bones, etc. One point that confused me is in the second paragraph: what "missing bones" is the speaker looking for? I assume it is his/her own. This is implied later on, with "these thin bones of mine," which is good, but the first mention of the bones requires more clarification, in my opinion. I am confused what "just to test a theory" is referring to; I feel that this could also use clarification. Finally, "your rib cage has a meaning" is powerful because of its gory image and the meaning behind it; I feel, though, that it could be improved with more expansion. Consider evoking more images or ideas that come along with dead birds, and how these relate to the two characters' situations.
The ending is sweet; I love love poems. I like the reiteration of the "moon and the stars" and the "tipsy on your smile and your words / and your warmth." These could be improved with more expansion as well, though. Consider what else could be in the sky, or another way of looking at the sky altogether, aside from just seeing the moon and the stars, as this evokes little imagery. Consider including what the other person is saying to the protagonist, beyond "words." Finally, consider describing his/her "warmth" further, evoking other images or feelings that come along with it: smells, memories, etc. With these expansions, much more detail could be added to the poem, pushing its meaning to reveal more about the interesting protagonist and his/her situation.
Overall, I like the writing style and the ideas in this poem. I feel that these could be expanded upon to create poetry with an even stronger impact. I would love to see more poems from you.
-JM