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Imagination within reality's seconds

Author: AutumnLeaves
ASL Info:    26/f/ Cyprus
Elite Ratio:    4.64 - 96 /103 /44
Words: 116
Class/Type: Poetry /Romance
Total Views: 1313
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 839



Imagination within reality's seconds

I swear I heard pebbles,
with that sweet specific noise
That pebbles do,
when touched by the sea.
Such a beautiful glimpse,
Surely not for me.
Delicate fingers
And eyes,
With their shiny corners,
with drops of meaning.
falling upon me.

All I need is the sun,
The sun and the sand,
For this sensitivity
To find a home.
It is almost pain,
This unintended thing,
With the smell of salt water
And the taste
Of a fictional kiss.
While these seconds
go by like waves,
Passing through,
A glimpse,

Fingers, lips

And pebbles.

Submitted on 2007-03-06 18:32:45     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  I've read a few of your poems now (and will read more) and there's something about the way you write... and what you told ThomasTheTrainEngineNo9, about what the poet sees and what the critic sees.

Because I can't, can't decipher any meaning from this. I could go on and on about a moment's glimpse and imagination and lovers and all the sexual/romantic things I find in here, with the sun and sand and water on fingers, lips, and pebbles and drawing something from it, though it wasn't intended for you---

but see, I'm not saying anything!

"Not intended for me". This is what I think about this poem. Not intended for me, yet I've fallen into it's line of sight and I adore it without comprehending, partially because of not comprehending (and it could be a number of suggestions already laid before me, but it's more than that) because I can feel that there's something here... something in your tone of voice that says it all. It's beyond what you mean, beyond what I can decipher... the images you put forth and... quiet longing. crystals in the NAtural Museum of Science. Little things that the author knows and the poet/critic knows that the poets knows even though the critic/poets doesn't know them him/herself. I can feel how the narrator feels, without comprehending .

Sorry that I can't explain this, or why I like it. I tried, I really did.

I'll try again later.
| Posted on 2007-03-12 00:00:00 | by lukewarm | [ Reply to This ]
  There is such sweet longing in this piece, especially in:
Surely not for me."
--makes me sigh, kinda, if you know what I mean.

Some other parts which stood out were:
"shiny corners"--very idiosyncratic, and just... right.
"This unintended thing"--makes me feel like you're so alone.
"a fictional kiss"--fantasies, yes, they can burn like the real thing.

And of course, the end... was perfect and lilting.

I can see why you repeated the sun twice... it's the crescendo, the moment when the sun hits, almost like a revelation. Or at least, that's how I see it.

Yea, just breezing through to say how I enjoyed this... the tone and the rhythm most of all.


| Posted on 2007-03-08 00:00:00 | by alteredlife | [ Reply to This ]
  I think this is a strong piece. I ideas you are pecking about are bloody wonderfull, but I think your descriptions lack in places.

For instance. Why write, I swear I heard pebbles- why not write I heard pebbles but still allow the reader to know not really. The latter is a more difficult meathod and takes more creativity but takes finer writting.

I dont like- "all i need is the sun/ the sun and the sand" which is it do you need the sun or both, say what you mean.

and "its allmost pain, this unintended thing"
this needs a beter description, dont tell your reader what something isnt (almost pain) tell them what it is ( a slight twinge, or whatever) and the second part is just weak.

Dont get me wrong, I think this is a really strong piece, and as I said I love the ideas you are playing with, it just needs to be tuned up a bit.
| Posted on 2007-03-07 00:00:00 | by ThomasOfTheLost | [ Reply to This ]
  Let me see if I’ve understood. The liquid is really tears (probably lover’s), and you’re imagining it as the ocean’s wave.
Wow! In a way, I’m glad I’m not the guy – I’d hate to think that in the middle of a kiss my love was thinking of sunning by the sea...more than a little puncture to the ballooning male ego (no metaphor intended).
Enjoyed it much, and that kind of imagination is the artist’s engine.
| Posted on 2007-03-06 00:00:00 | by fredmelden | [ Reply to This ]

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