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Pure Imagination

Pure Imagination

Sitting at the computer
tipping my fingers
on the key board
not so silent as before
my spouse hears me from miles
knows I am still ticking alive...
like a
Time bomb

What will happen
when she is in the kitchen
prepare a soft night's meal for me
my ticking and tapping fails
my heart derails

will she know
whatever happened
in those few moments
I flew away....

No one will...
when and how
it all suddenly
'tis the unknowns
she will ask her kids
Will I know it still!

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


i know needs minor edit
can you find it

author comment

This is my favourite poem of yours so far Lovedly..

It has some touching , simple moments, where you let the language relax into the transmission of emotion,

knows I am still ticking alive...
like a
Time bomb

Gives a sense of building emotion, nice language use

I thought that this would have been the perfect ending point:

will she know
whatever happened
in those few moments
I flew away....

It just seems that way to me, an evocation of thought, - with beautiful language.
Just my suggestion, really nice piece.

Take care,


Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

so kind of you VS
for spicing up my emotional piece
as I play about at the laps
not hers
but atop
till late after midnite
as she sleeps
in another room not far from me

In an AC
I like fresh air mostly
in closed quarters
I feel de-breathed

author comment

to me this sounded like a wistful piece (I like to read out loud, to derive maximum enjoyments pleasure) I see loneliness and isolation. the two main characters separated by the distance of their likes/dislikes and hopes/desires. I very much liked it as I could relate to it because of my relationship with my oldest sister. when she phones me, she tells me all her troubles. and never asks about mine. either she assumes I have none or else she doesn't care :(

excellent poem!
*hugs, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:

Dear Lady Cat
Am I still dreaming
that you are stealthily stepping
across the brocade of my poetry
find it lovely
read worthy loudly

Cat do pinch me
I will feel happy
you walked my way today
aaaaafter agesssss
had you warned me
I woul d have laid a red carpet

O I can't believe it
you read me
after a long gaaaaaaaaaaap

author comment
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