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LipstickTraces
May 30th, 2008, 07:29 AM
Okay, this is a poem which I wrote last year. I personally feel it isn't entirley great, and it lacks a certain something. I am more of a lyricist, so will be looking to post some of my songwriting examples in future. Anyway, I wanted to see what you all think:

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A whirlwind of possession
We seek what other have sought
Thriving for time to live
Still stuck in bland detention
Waiting in cycles formed

But we long for something else
Someone to give themselves
Even though we know
This only happens in fantasy

Real life, it’s condensed
Simmered through a golden frame
Through the tinted glass we look
Complaining that those in frame
Have better lives than ours.

There’s no need for such devours
Because good things come to those who wait;
Incredibly, as if against the odds
Comes along someone
Who can fill the gaps between the fingers
On our very own hands.

So wait. Don’t rise to the bait.
It’ll be worth it.
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Toblerone
May 30th, 2008, 07:46 AM
I like it! It's better than my poems, by a long shot! I just rhyme, i wish i could make poems how you make them! My favourite part was the bit with the golden flame.. i liked it alot! Thanks for commenting on my poem as well :).

LipstickTraces
May 31st, 2008, 04:40 AM
Wow, thank you :) I will try and attempt to write more poetry and post them here. Like I say I am more of a lyricist than a poet, purley because of the musical aspect to them. I enjoy piecing things together constructivley that are more than words with meaning, the music can have meaning too. Thanks for the positive feedback!

LipstickTraces
June 1st, 2008, 06:53 AM
Okay, I have another poem for you lot to read. It's straight to the point, so there isnt much of a play with words as such. See what you think.

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Not-so-scary thing

It’s all just an illusion!
Pink pythons, slithering around my feet,
Evil demons in clown suits,
Spitting rancid vanity into my face,
Magnetized forced propelling me away
From the very things I love.
It doesn’t mean a thing; I’m free.

Hear my solution. Oh yes!
Just cleverly observe the dirty rut,
Tons of soil creeping up your calves,
Planting you into the ground,
Getting a hold of you…

As much as the burden stings,
This is illusion, remember?
Oh yes! My specialist spade!
Designed to dig myself from pink pythons
And evil demons, they’re just remains of trees to me!

The answer now revealed.
At last. Uncuffed, unruffled, unharmed…!
All you have to remember is;
“It’s all illusion to me”.
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