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His feet aches with guilt which felt like he has pins sticking in the veins, being rip apart with sleeve for humanity. The time is precious but as drift to far to hold. That is reached and pulling...

'The Boy Soul'.

The air that desperate situation is alone strip of love by second bring down the child from emotion underside of have adult to care for. In deep of the of every day. He wants just...

Firstly maybe I only saw basic images, most of the time I have readed few times to get point so I am sorry. I do understand that poem is about a family history of washing board is passes from Irish...

Story.

The story of the time which end with wink of eye.
That come alive with smile at if come to see.
The distance in the past of which is seeking us all.
The present which doomed to be...

FF? I can see washing women doing washing and later on in the day breast feeding her child.

You are right and you have more experience then me.

The Girl.


Shoulder of the girl at sit on the bench.
With no place to go.
The emptyness that shine throught.
The grease that cling to the tips.
The ocean that missed from her eyes.
Trends...

When writing I alway try to subtle way of describle it or said something but way that reader as to image what being writing.

Yeah it could be.

As far I can see you used other members to create poem, fair enough with images you have provide but it up to you see how many ways uses your creative flow to see how many ways you can write a poem...

not sure but can see irish woman. Great pictures in my mind.

'Penis' does not fit in with rest of poem/prosey.




So is it story or poem? or either about persons?

This grief which bring me to place,
is soaking itself with devil blood.
In riches with deeds which are made of stone with my hands.
Itches with away throught the tissues which I have buried my...

I am slide with doubt.
She want me or not.
I am destiny to be a child again.
Feeling alone and isolated from her.
With my dream of having her in my life.

Why I would 'make you poem?' when rewrite one of my mine. Do your own working.

Sound like someone waiting to died or ghost wondered down street.

Firstly, what it be prosey or poem is either here or there to be. The first piece what I am going comment on. The language is subtle and sound right but 'penis' is in engish language. If you going...

Skull which sit on the edge on world.
In the distance sand storm is coming.
The grain that slip over the bone.
The time has come to faded.

Yes, your poem is wonderful because it fragile but it undercurrent of death. Also had me wondered if you were watching 'Time team'.

Favourite lines are:Are quiet when the day in done.
When...

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Thank you Bar, for reading and I have being to place quite few times. I think from the'Chldhood Memories' poem which again came from nowhere but I must trying to do something about the...

I am a child that wants to have her life take away.
The band of something which is driving to me to nowhere.
I am young with life.
But the need to try is breaking me.
The world is destroying me....

With a silence that is dull ache and is presently embedded itself in my skull. Snap as my rope goes. Tighten as it reached from rail to my neck. The tower which in imprison with the key just out...

Do not 'Apologies' because that why you write and it me who has tried get it as reader. Sometime I am bit slow off mark but give me enough time, bit luck should sink in.

The Dark Hills by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Dark hills at evening in the west,
Where sunset hovers like a sound
Of golden horns that sang to rest
Old bones of warriors under ground,
Far now...

Thank you Pen, I am sorry to hear about your laptop, I am sorry if I seem impatience.

hmm let see?

The poem itself is full of raw emotion but in not blunt but it here. I have understood it as in brother is a piss but abuse the sister by sleep with her?