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#1  [P]Another Villanelle It's just a gentle little flood a creep, a drip, a turn seeping through warped wood. Clean. Sparkling clean scrubbing suds scrubbing unripe flesh that yearns for a gentle little flood. A trickle, just a trickle. Maybe that could..? No. The stomach just churns seeping through warped wood. Fairies fly and I, in the mud bury the world as it turns. Just a gentle little flood. It's a lonely bedside boyhood where bright lights unquenched do burn searing through warped wood. All of the kings horses rush like blood to a small cut from paper, long since spurned. It's just a gentle little flood seeping through warped wood. Last edited by nik0tine; 12-15-2006 at 07:14 AM. |
12-15-2006, 07:05 AM
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 | I'm not sure if this is the meaning behind the poem, but when I read a couple of times I felt as though it was a poem was about a man who was loved by a woman. This man though has a hard surface, has been hurt and her love only trickles in slowly? Something on those lines. It's an amazingly visual poem. I had images going off in my head everywhere. Really good, I liked it. It made me imagine. |
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12-18-2006, 03:17 PM
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