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FOREVER AND A DAY
This is how long an old man feels,
This is how long he awaits your smile.
Each moment locked away
In some distant and perished file.
Cold mornings creep,
Break of dawns crisp and slick
Finding me cold in bed
I wonder if one moment can
Extend my sleep.
Forever and a day fallen,
Ghosts visit
Family plagues,
Dreams allow,
Sorrow lives,
In solitude I confine.
Live and breathe
Heartbroken I scream
Ancient arisen
Seeking a paper heart,
A heart he simply chooses not to forget.
Review Request (Intensity):
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Last few words:
No wesely this is not the poem you await.
it is just something linking my poetry.
A thought im developing.
Editing stage:
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Comments
wesley snow
Fri, 2011-12-09 11:49
Thought I would let you know...
... that I am "following" you (evil, mad scientist laughter). Seriously, I am. I'm not only tickled that when I come to your poems I find delightful little messages to me and not only am I waiting for "The Poem", but I get a particular charge out of watching a poet during those periods of dramatic change and advancement (I haven't had one in a while) that artists are occasionally blessed with. I see in your poetry one of these "moments". Every poem I read of yours is subtly advanced over the last.
How about this one? I think the second stanza fell short, but that's largely due to the fact the first one caught me by the short hairs (old men have lots of short hairs to grab).
Reality, truth, sincerity... The list is endless of all the things you snagged in a few sentences.
The first line needs a period. Just a bald statement of fact. I would lose all the caps at the beginnings of lines, but that's just me. Despite my love of all things classical in poetry, I don't much care for that tradition. However, this is something you must decide.
Time is of the essence for me, so I hope the time I spend reading your poetry is an indication of my respect for it... and enjoyment of it.
wesley
W. H. Snow
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley
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reepa
Fri, 2011-12-09 18:16
WOW
A comment of such
I am indeed thankfull.
For your time, for your help.
To follow is to Awaken me.
I urge you to keep in mind it has been awhile since
i have put pen and paper together, modern days i suppose i could say p.c to upload
but be that as it may.
Filled with alot of change
I am thankfull for all your input.
My long awaited poem is truly in the making
and it will be produced, for now i post lesser to keep me finding the words, form and essence i seek.
My thanks.
Zane.
author commentthe_fool
Sun, 2011-12-11 05:21
a heart broke poem, eh?
poem itself was a good read. i felt the loneliness and despair.
didn't like the title, though. i've heard that phrase a few too many times.
second S- if ghosts visit, and dreams allow, maybe family should plague instead of plagues?
i noticed the lines getting shorter and shorter until the last line. i think that last line could be broken down further until its last line only has one word to follow that wilting theme-
A heart he simply
chooses
not to
forget.
just a suggestion, hope you like it.