Alive for one week - Shakespeare's Monkeys

alive for one week

it's been a week, what can I say.

I am small and
I wonder
I hear my pulse
I see broken glass
I want only sleep

I am alive

I pretend happiness
I feel pain
I touch deformity
I worry in dreams
I cry in verse

I am curling within
I understand little
I say less
I dream red
I try
I hope

I am alive

White_Feather -

What a poet you are, to be in that place, and still be writing. I am impressed, and hope your recovery is gentle, yet swift!

Aesthetic Psychosis -

I don't know whether I commented on this one on the other site or not -

It's a nice anaphoristic poem (I think that's the word). You always have a way of using the littlest words to express the most emotion.

Callooh -

White_Feather:

I still cringe at the word poet - I write, hopefully what is honest (damn that sounded pompous!). and more hopefully people will find a connection.

thanks for the kind words.

ps I look less like Frankenstien every day, but to be honest we initally had much in common...

-----
ruth

Callooh -

Aesthetic Psychosis:

damn, had to look up anaphoristic! but it's a great word, will attempt to slip into future conversations in attempts to sound witty...

Stephen set up the form really, I filled in the blanks and then played awhile with it, so really it is half his poem (I am completely willing to take all the credit however)

thanks very much - an extremely flattering review - this is the effect I often work towards.

(ps - just this site, nice to see you here)

-----
ruth