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This was spewed sometime in December of 2005. It's nothing special really, but I'm thinking some of the images could be used in a poem. I'm looking for feedback with that in mind. Thankyou!

I Cannot Keep the Fragments Held as One

once upon too terribly many times
i experienced desire so thwarted
thens & theres
i may never experience desire again.
i may in fact be left with a bitter residue
in every mouth my tongue explores henceforth.

i crave passion. i cravelong to be enslaved by
complete disregard for anything other than
electrical impulses(pulse racing)
between flesh & breath,
hands & teeth,
sounds imperceptible
message somehow received
from across the room i want-

such a thing exists only where trust is laid.
i am all out of trust.
the well has dried up & blown away
& i don't remember when it was anymore;
even the treasure map has turned to dust

i think my body is confused.
my mouth is dry & my palms are wet

am i a child? is that what this is?
i see so many things my mother said
& did that hurt me & i feel sad for that self
i must still be because i'm sure not grown up yet.
am i a child?

i hate this feeling of neverwillhave neverget neverfelt
never ending endings in sight i wish i could find the eyes
i lost a year ago. where is she? where is she?

i can hear her crying but i never catch sight of her
quick enough to catch her hand & pull her to me.
shhshhshlittlegirl i would whisper to myself
it'sokaynow.it'sokay & it wouldn't be okay,
we'd both know it's never really okay when you're sobbing
& choking &
gagging on your own heart
but i'd hold her.

i'd hold her.

i would sing a lullaby.

i remember darkened nightcool rooms
with jokes echoing off each kind green wall.

what did one wall say to the other wall? an echo-wall asks.

meet you at the corner in smiling-reply.

if i could curl up miniscule as a paisley i would surely float away in amniotic sea...

it would take me week to unravel all the emotions/feelings/relationships

there is a life story there
never mind the makings of a poem
im only a beginner myself

i take it this is your real eperience
the hurt/betrayal/the lost love

it was very intense for me
wrote like a hurried story
that just kept coming at you
and you wanted to share it
and you just have.......Thank you

my mother sang me lullabys 47 years
ago and i can still see her smile
rockaby baby on ythe tree top..............................

*laughing* you are right, sir. there is definitely a life story in there. it is a very well-rounded portrayal of who i was a little more than two years ago. amazing what a difference two years can make for a person.

yes, this is my real experience. it was a journal entry, of sorts. a lot of what becomes my poetry begins as a paragraph or two within a larger entry, extracted and expanded upon.

what sort of things inspire your wordings?

i am glad that you have this memory of your mother's face & voice. what a beautiful thing... "when the wind blows, the cradle will rock..."

moss & stone,
Siobhan

my inspirations are mostly from my past life with a lot of human nature.pain
love/sorrow/joy/taste s/smells/sounds/emotional highs and lows

i liked your big poem Siobhan/Shuvon its also irish for Susanne

when the bough breaks.................

ps dont they say...........

A Rolling stone gathers no Moss?

James

lightedpalace wrote: i am glad that you have this memory of your mother's face & voice. what a beautiful thing... "when the wind blows, the cradle will rock..."

Sounds pretty scarry to me. I think it would make me nervous every time a woman smiled at me.
with next lines being
"When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall;
Down will come baby,
Cradle and all."

lazariuk wrote:

lightedpalace wrote: i am glad that you have this memory of your mother's face & voice. what a beautiful thing... "when the wind blows, the cradle will rock..."

Sounds pretty scarry to me. I think it would make me nervous every time a woman smiled at me.
with next lines being
"When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall;
Down will come baby,
Cradle and all."

*laughing* i suppose the song itself is fairly bone-chilling... though when i heard the song as a child i pictured the baby falling into its mothers arms, safe & sound. my innocent imagination could produce nothing of the violent end which might have been implicit in the song originally. it's all about perception, eh? i'm sure if i'd ever experienced anything traumatic at that early point my imagination would have had more of a tendency to lean toward the gruesome.

it's interesting how people are shaped, isn't it?

hrm. thoughts.

jimbo wrote: i liked your big poem Siobhan/Shuvon its also irish for Susanne

my big poem? you mean the long one i posted a few days ago?

i didn't know it was irish for susanne as well! Joan, Jeanne, both i'd heard, but Suzanne? *laughs* how wonderous!!! I always liked to imagine the song was secretly about me. Thankyou for giving me fuel for my happy delusion.

Scraps of emotion, the colours and flavours of passing moments... aeroplanes trailing ribbons of sound... such is the stuff poems are made of, in-deed, good sir.

pleased to meet you James.

*goes off to gather some moss*

i remember darkened nightcool rooms
with jokes echoing off each kind green wall.

what did one wall say to the other wall? an echo-wall asks.

meet you at the corner in smiling-reply.

if i could curl up miniscule as a paisley i would surely float away in amniotic sea...

This takes me back to when I or a friend would spend the night with each other and stay awake talking, telling jokes, and giggling.

Your journal-entry, prose-poem thoughts do a lot in capturing the very real, internal landscape of thoughts, feelings, images, both fleeting and quickly passing, all jumbled up in disarray. It very strongly evokes mine regarding a particular relationship.


~ Lizzy