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œuvre de fiction
By swing_the_hammer
isabel ringing in your head
when you wake up crying in your bed
i got blood cells, mostly red
break the body with the bread
twelve birds sitting on a wire
talkin bout water, talkin bout fire
i'm shaking and my need is dire
the most sincere- with the looks of a liar
well, the big picture's always the final shot
but what's the story, with no real plot
who wrote on the petals "forget-me-not"?
someone told me, but i forgot
in the morning, i'm scratched and bruised
and more than just a little confused
when i sleep all my energy's being used
i don't know how so i am accused
is a bell ringing? dream i'm flying
but somethings wrong- wake up crying
i think of the fortune i read aloud, sighing
"the saints are the sinners who keep on trying..."
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
Ask the author first.
© 2007 swing_the_hammer
Comments on "œuvre de fiction"
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On Friday, August 3, 2007, Bella Butchery
(724)
wrote:
makes me feel like i am soaring... i live for poetry like this.
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A former member wrote:
wow.....normally i stray form the rhyme and meter, but this is beyond fantastic and bombastic and philosophic and surrealistic and idealistic. .. . .jsut damns. .. . .wow.. . .
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On Tuesday, July 31, 2007, Alanarchy
(1200) wrote:
There's an energy to this. Last line reminds me of a clutch song. I'm with the fisherman. Not often will I like structure, but I like this.
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On Tuesday, July 31, 2007, Six-Out
(1435) wrote:
I loved that ending line. As I love most stuff you post. You're probably the only person that rhymes that I like. Good job!
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On Tuesday, July 31, 2007, LordBrosnian
(44) wrote:
Hah! Great, man! Burlesque!
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