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Poetry tends to use
sentences and paragraphs
and rhyme schemes! That are (purely poetic)
Bad language has No Place In Poetry
Joined: Oct 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 21 Karma: 2
Nowhere Man « Thread Started on Oct 31, 2009, 9:07am »
Nowhere Man
The morning light maintains cell memory and I’m settled into one with its energy, cohesive, integrated, silent. There’s a personal sense of security that whispers, dismantling my defenses, shattering the the walls of self-protection, leaving me vulnerable, exposed to the apex of love where your voice floats out from clouds caressing away the coldness of winter.
It’s been a long time since we’ve talked. I guess I’ve been too even tempered, too levelheaded to believe you were always there. In my heart you were the nowhere man that spoke in secret code about the endless knots of hope that gives flight to dragonflies in dreams, when it’s over, when nothing matters but fatigue and expressed regrets.
You’ve been inarticulate in my life for quite awhile, but now you have a hold on me; our time includes memories of all proportion, many I’d like to soon forget; but the limbs of the Earth are extended in spirals that want to unbend reaching out to me when I’m barely hanging on. Stricken by the reflection of you in the brightest of skies, they start to unravel, keeping me from falling and I understand the nature of your
poetry. I can capture joy and sorrow with the ease of key strokes; my point of view can be the perfect inspiration or the perfect parting shot. I can put to rest all the rumors that stir without substance, or incite them just by being different. In a single glance the outlines can change from the gesture of magic to grass blades aflame with man’s mortality. In my stories there are angles of smoldering pinks to gentle grays,
splashed among the winds slow to show gratitude, as I’m erased. In my apocalyptic vision I see everything simultaneously through near death, like some formula that’s lost it relevance. Sometimes I think my imagination has let me down, and I’m unreceptive to its return. What message is it that you want me to deliver? I have felt you in every horizon! Forgive my godless stances of the past, I now know, it was your poetry I was missing; you, nowhere man.
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