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Illicit

stars cut like a fire torch
windswept they dance
the darkness fanning
like a mystery curtian
throwing the calm
about their exotic charms

there are leaves of pages
growing on the trees of hope
loping like the flank of wolves
their thirsty ache

all loops and whorls
on acid proof billow
stretching in the wind
as scenery dark and hidden
speeds

you ask me questions
for all the unknowns
and the hollow emptiness
the game has shown

running
the cool sweet
while the night weakens

this quickening
we share
if I could press it
hold your palm

and I crush thorny
wish alive
alive I feel

and the dream wheel
screams

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 

Comments

sure how the line [the cool sweet] fits, could you elaborate?
Do you think it might flow better, if you said: and I crush [the] thorny wish alive?
I had a vision of a prayer-wheel spinning madly, smoking and shrieking. Nice image,but what is a dream-wheel? ~ Your friend, ~ Gee

Comments and critique are vital to this site!
Even if you just say: I liked this story or your spelling
of a word is wrong, take the time to write a line or two
and comment. Your fellow poets will thank you!
.

This is not the work of orgami, esker is lesser.

You never resorted to similes before.

ok, ok, it is bloody good. I doubt you could write a bad poem, I just wonder where the free associative gorgeous deep mystical flow has gone, I almost expected, while reading this, that it would end in a lame rhetorical question. But you saved it.
"and I crush thorny
wish alive
alive I feel

and the dream wheel
screams"
Is bloody brilliant.
Yet I worry about you, my friend.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

struggling my Poet freinds
yes I got stuck in writing a theme
over and over
and trying to pull up before I crash
there is a lame feel to it compared to

"cool sweet" is just an attempt a branding
a poem after all this time its getting
to be work now to create the originality
as before and that for me is good

Thank you both for the comments

author comment

could just be the start and stop of
something differently creative
like a sculptor with some interesting
points but needs to jive more

thank hip cats!

author comment

when we try something different it is a difficult process. I trust that what comes out of yours will be of your true genius.

Forgive my moments of doubt, but i have missed you.

cheers,
Jess
A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/rhythm-and-meter-poetry

Sharp
the stars tear
at the fabric of the trees,
their letters,
pages flapping in the ill of breeze,
your tattered dreams spread out
collected with a hand
at the last brandish of the sounds

Oh you always make my mind create images for myself
to see through and be touched by
with fire and pain,
tenderness or pathos,
and leave me richer than before.
Dear Steven.
Ann of Norway sounds the birch horn (1m.+)
for you.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

I like this one because it varies just enough from my others
Thank You Ann How it would that we would enjoy
a walk in poplar glen and mountian trail.. Thank You

author comment

Why not? Trails of all sorts interest me, even in the back streets of towns, like you! You spell mountIAN just as I ALWAYS type it!!! Bother it.

Poplar Glen sounds good, I have never seen a whole mass of those trees as a group, usually they are tall and dominate, no others nearby; there are many types of poplar of course, the fairy tale ones straight to the sky with their hob-goblin twigs, like a witches bottle brush or broom stick. The Black poplar with the garden warbler in residence makes a tirade of song that fascinated me for hours as I sat on the opened window sill and listened spellbound. Moments in a lifetime made memorable, there are so many for those who listen and see aren't there Steven.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

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