Thawed

Still trying stuff.

I am no more in morning's mourning
but cloaked in mid-day's cloak unknowing
my pen it throbs with reckless ranting
in noon I sit like monks in chanting

I think like hearts pump blood from heathen
away from organs, sent from beating
my pen can write when world's collapsing
in flooded tombs and rising ocean

My soul is useless, I was disposing
in came hers, righteous, mine was chosen
in comes the light of her hearts holding
onto my own, my soul's unfrozen

Author's Note

I'm just trying new stuff lately. Generally I do the whole free form type thing/prose-ish.

Reviews

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Nothing wrong with trying something new. I like your metaphors, especially
"my pen it throbs with reckless ranting
in noon I sit like monks in chanting

I think like hearts pump blood from heathen
away from organs, sent from beating"

Your poem has a lot of potential. Maybe go back and tweak it a little so the flow is smoother. But overall, this is a nice piece of writing.

[Alice]

Trance inducing rhythmic elegance,
head swaying beauty,
eyes have to follow
neatly tripping
lines
burning for the next
rhyme.
You're a snake charmer now!

Now if you could somehow blend this new gorgeousness with the style of the old free verse stuff that was all colloquial and raw and said stuff like, "you know, s**t, s**t like that, and s**t" which is obviously not a direct quote you'd have something truly original and magic. Not sure how one would do that but you're a genius so figure it out. Put this in a food processor with Machine Like That and see how it tastes.