Poisoned Breath
December 31st, 2009
Each poem a purple prayer,
Prayed through weeping lips,
Burning my tongue with sour hope,
Poisoned by the sweetest bliss.
~Spirit~
Breathe it through the ink.
Each poem a purple prayer,
Prayed through weeping lips,
Burning my tongue with sour hope,
Poisoned by the sweetest bliss.
~Spirit~
Breathe it through the ink.
wow! i think that is the strongest poem you have ever posted and so close to being a tanka…you should look up tanka! cheers spirit :)
Ooo, I have a whole book of Tanka but I never even thought of trying my hand at it. I might play around with it here and there. I’m still learning how to break well ingrained rules and then I think I’ll be braver at trying some of these other styles. :) I think this might be one of my favorite short poems. :D
very nice I can smell the fresh ink and parchment now. A very soothing smell besides a dusty used bookstore.
:D It is a very soothing smell. Oh, gods, that makes me think. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I love a stack of blank paper. Lol. I love a stack of filled with words too, most especially if they’re mine own or a story I’ve never read, but there’s something about the blank pages that’s just…. well, you know. ;)