poetry critical

online poetry workshop


Listening to
flurries of landscapes one day,
flipping through them successively
I started out
going back,
trying to recapture exact glimpses
of ones I especially adored,
Realizing this was in err,
I jumped into a river,
floating down tributaries,
got a bit carried away.
Though water invaded all holes,
my ears were still opened
to the scenery than ever before.
Or had it?
Head nearly submerged,
eyes with liquid covering,  
I could not look back.
A river will carry its lovers away.
they may try to cling to its shore,
but once wrought,
are never such the same
virgins as ever
been, before.

19 Feb 07

(define the words in this poem)

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this makes me think if Ophelia in "Hamlet" by Shakespeare.  i was wondering what inspired you to write this poem.
 — peanut

I was on youtube, listening to a lovely group called "boards of Canada."
I kept edging away from all the results that weren't by them, re-listening to some of the songs I liked the most.
Then I realized nothing will ever be the same the second time around, and even if it is for the most part, the me from minuted before that is different than the me now.  So I thought, heck, why not listen to some of these results by other groups, these little "tributaries" that lead off the stream of music I was playing on my computer.

Boards of Canada has some beautiful music, by the way. I found a movie called "the fountain" that was linked off from one of the next pages I turned to, and found it one of the most astounding movies I've previewed in a long time. I plan on renting it now.  :)  
 — unknown

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