From me to you

so bla bla bla, feel fre to criticize :)

movies full of sunlight glades and panoramic views,

you infuse toxicity, nothing is away from us,

don't wish bitter wishes, also don't belive in news,

I am here for everyone, if you don't race, then you can't lose.

Is there any right decision,

is there one unequal question?

this is just my own perspective,

my constrained imagination.

Awake again in morning,

didn't slept last night,

despite expectations smoking 'nother joint,

days of losing mind in haze (have come).

Wonderfull sun points at me in silence,

poetry is everything it is

and everything it isn't, for creation is flawless

till the point of New where difference is borned.

In the final sentence,

the one of a kind

suggests constant change

for static is boring.

Static disagree with Smile.

Author's Note

wondering what will you get from here

Reviews

[Brooke Graco]

Very unique. I don't think I have reviewed or read something anywhere that is similar. I had to sit back and think over some words, but overall, I actually quite like it. Loving the first stanza, it was my favourite. The last two lines in that stanza I really love.

the second stanza is quite the philosophical one. One that I really believe the way you wrote it. 'Is there any right decision?'

Still, while I am writing this review, I am thinking over the poem in deep thought.
Good job isus :) Lovely read

[isus]

well, thank you for your kind words, im glad you find it that way :)

[burnhouse]

isusss. I enjoy reading your pieces again. They're great kind of weird and unique. And I'm still bad at reviewing.

[isus]

thanx mary, im glad you like it. im also still bad at reviewing :D even if i review review

[Tam Warink]

I get a vision of a large comb made from fountain pens... you are combing these stories from your hair, like smokey air ... and they coalesce into inky rain that falls upon a page where words form these thoughts. But these are words in the style of DaVinci. We must use a mirror to reflect their true meaning and intent.

In the first stanza I see a little bee, hovering above a strange hand. It is contemplating death as it prepares to sting a lesson into this rapacious thing.

In the second stanza a cow, constrained by a railed fence, ponders the questions posed as it chews it cud in silence with a random flicking of its tail near the bee hovering above the strange hand.

In the third stanza, the milkmaid, pipe in mouth, relieves the cow of her burden of milk. It is all in a days word-work but the thought of rising with the sun is mostly irritating.

In the fourth stanza the sunlight falls upon the cow, the maid and the bee. It is there for all to see and with the arc of the tail casting a shadow upon the bee, it is momentarily disoriented by the vibrations of milk splashing into a ringing bucket; a form of bee-poetry unheard of by it until just then.

In the final stanza we see the bee, rejecting death and the opportunity to instruct the ignominious hand-thing in the way of bee-kind. Prudently, it goes about its business and moves on to the next beautiful flower and then back to the task of turning flower dust into honey.

A wonderful thing, Isus. Thank you.

100 flawless similes

[isus]

wow, this story is great, your vision is good reason to keep posting things on this page. wonderfull imagination and interpretation, thank you very much :)

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Static interrupting life and signals changing...
The end is different and changes the flow.
Like "static" maybe...?

[isus]

i love what your mind did there, we might have some similar minds :D

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

MAYBE.....:)

[Alene Parr]

I love the line "poetry is everything it is" because that's the absolute truth!

[isus]

isnt it :)

[Frieda P]

Reads as get in the game or be stagnant. Sounds as though someone isn't sleeping, this is the kind of stuff I write when insomnia strikes the brain cells. Too much static at that point. Good read isus.

[isus]

thank you for reading :) I wasn't very clear at the time

[Frieda P]

As they say, s**t happens...haha, sometimes you get a good poem out of it :-)

[isus]

s**t is mostly just in our minds :D and sometimes you get good poem out of it but sometimes you don't (like this s**t here)

[Frieda P]

Oh blablabla yourself, it's always good when you speak from the gut, or a deep place such as this, now shush. ;-P

[isus]

:D < 3 < 3