A poet's epilogue - Shakespeare's Monkeys

a poet's epilogue

it sucks as well, but here it is

will it matter that I knew you?

that I notice light spinning
off maple keys

thrown from their canopy

to die under bicycle tires

pushed by gangly boys?

will I place my heart more carefully

after I watch leaves painting

small strokes of sunlight

freed from purple skies

and indolent raindrops?

did the words have meaning

when the waves wiped sand

from my feet

and left smooth stones

for my fingers?

in the end
will I matter?

Celticlion -
Well, R, if this sucks, than I'm a rotten green tomato. And I don't think I am. The tomato part. This is beautiful writing.....C

Leanne -

Yeah, fuck you and your moaning about uselessness... at least you can still write. Last line is a bit weak and it won't take much to strengthen -- you might just like to mirror the first more, like "will I matter?"

Also "lanky legged" seems redundant, lanky will do won't it? Or some other kind of legged.

Otherwise... yeah, just stop your moaning will you? It's damn good poetry.

Callooh -
Catherine: yeah well, um, yeah... I hate writing, how's that??

Callooh -

Leanne: its my poem and I'll whine if I want to. poetry sucks, if I could have surgery to remove it I would.

grumble grumble....fuck, snort, fart....

Celticlion -
Even your farts smell like rosewater and bergamot. Your snorts, however, are a little stinky!

Callooh -
Well I burp like a trucker

Colleen -
An amazing poem! I have no idea why you say this sucks, its wonderful.

Callooh -

lately I have no idea about poetry. I may start enjoying hallmark verses soon....

(thanks)

Laura doom -

Good to find something worth reading before saying goodbye to consciousnesss...