Tip Toe 2 Thee Stalk

See what we See. Closed eyes poised as a blind child seeing through the eye of an oracle.

You told me to be a simple man. Infatuated by simple things yet miraculously placed at our feet. A feather that has cut clouds cuts me deep. Not in the ways of pain but into an impression on the lips of ones light. Shadowing me from the heat of ones darkness. I would like to dwell there with them rocking back and forth in and out showing them that together like the silk threads weaved in ones back we can take flight among the stars again for the first time. Will you take my hand. Can we interlace our race? The answer has already been seen since they laid eyes upon the seed of the JuJu Bean. 

Reviews

[Paniel LeReux]

Indeed I am. It's meant for me to look back on from different eyes in a future time and place. I placed it here so that others may take a peek into my universe. Chaotic without a start or finish but a point to what holds me in a place I'm content. Appreciate your criticism though all the same brother.

[JayG]

• You told me to be a simple man.

I did? Was that last Thursday at the convention? Wait...do I know you?

My point? You, an unknown, are talking to the reader about things that are meaningful to you, as you read, because you know the backstory, and, your intent for how the words are to be taken. But you provide no context to make it meaningful to the reader. Perhaps, were you to have given the reader context...

Without context it reads a lot like Bunthorn's "OH, HOLLOW! HOLLOW! HOLLOW!"


What time the poet hath hymned

The writhing maid, lithe-limbed,

Quivering on amaranthine asphodel,

How can he paint her woes,

Knowing, as well he knows,

That all can be set right with calomel?

When from the poet's plinth

The amorous colocynth

Yearns for the aloe, faint with rapturous thrills,

How can he hymn their throes

Knowing, as well he knows,

That they are only uncompounded pills?

Is it, and can it be,

Nature hath this decree,

Nothing poetic in the world shall dwell?