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Roses and Supposes

Maybes And Supposes….

Rain plays gently on
the hood of my coat,
I hear though I choose
to play the fool.
Weather torn sounds
escape from my throat,
I’m glad nature doesn’t
understand cruel.

Wonder what stirs man’s base desire,
perhaps a jolt in his cerebral thought.
Maybe it’s like a heat radiating from fire,
or a starts gun, with more than one shot.

Shall we ever really get to know,
will we always live on scientific theory.
Suppose superficial towers learned to grow,
evidence set in concrete, far to weary.

We created mathematics root by block,
convincing ourselves it’s the only way.
Then when nature decides to shock,
it’s a miracle born from a mangers hay.

Waiting for buses helps me feel,
what minutes mean to an hour.
At least I know that times unreal,
man’s creation turns good milk sour.

I don’t fit squares or triangulations,
won’t become anyone else’s shape,
Man, only one of natures creations.
he chose the values on an inch tape.

Buttercups and roses,
maybes and supposes
weans with dirty noses
to soon our day closes….

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
I wonder. You never know. Well i never saw that coming. Explanation of phrase, perhaps...
Editing stage: 


for nearly four months, mate. You know I respect you and your work but this is an an adolescent rant. No cohesive thought or ideas, just a whinge, basically, a mishmash of conflicting thoughts,
Hey, it sounds good, you don't need me to tell you that you are a fine poet at your best, this isn't.

Just been going through the 'Undiscovered works' list and found out why this was here.

Don't sweat it it. I've been doing a fuck of a lot of work behind the scenes on Neopoet and neglecting my prime purposes- my own poetry and critique. I promise not to let you get away with crap like this again.

Your turn- tell me how wrong I am and what I missed, fair enough?

Neopoet Directors

Let's get the typo in last line taken care of. Too soon not to soon.
I like the way the introductory lines contrast to the rest of the poem it reinforces the randomness of thought which is what the poem is about......stan

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