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zoolane
11-19-2010, 10:31 AM
The Characteristic

I have characteristic of be dark.
The words I use spill out over the page.
It subtle and blunt versions I painted.
The darkest flood the veins within me.
The characteristic is that always here in mind floating.
zoolane
11-19-2010, 01:14 PM
The Blank Stare

As I stare a blank stare.
The white of paper seem to moving.
The edges getting ready to curl up.
The scribble that I write down.
Seem to unreadable to human eye.
With blank stare I glaze that letters.
Sooner or later in become sentsence.
zoolane
11-19-2010, 05:30 PM
The Lighthouse

On bump then smooth landscape.
Stood solid white escort.
She would let loose her children.
To play with sway and rise brine.
But light turn into sadness.
To convey they dismay.
The children sent shock through the deep.
The white amour turn on its guild light.
Bastard Child
11-19-2010, 05:38 PM
Genius. Truly. This is refreshing. This is the first I read of yours, but I will gladly take to reading more now.
I'm almost reminded of Burroughs' cut-up technique here, but more intentional...
A unique style, a challenging use of form and punctuation, beautiful imagery and tight cadence... wow... "Sentsense"? Nice.
hillwalker
11-20-2010, 08:12 AM
There's something about these 3 that keeps me returning to re-read them. It's definitely the subtle use of words as much for their sounds as their sense. None of the 3 have a regular rhythm; instead there's an underlying struggle to the beat that seems to mirror the internal strife of the writer. Great stuff, zoo.

H
zoolane
11-20-2010, 08:16 AM
Thank you for comment H. Third poem is actual about picture I saw Maryd album.
zoolane
11-20-2010, 12:33 PM
The Lighthouse.
On bump then smooth landscape.
Stood solid white escort.
She would let loose her children.
To play with sway and rise brine.
But light turn into sadness.
To convey they dismay.
The children sent shock through the deep.
The white amour turn on its guild light.


Explaination for this poem. Escort is spanish for knight and 'she' is ocean and her chidren are waves. Brine, deep, mean the ocean. Light for sadness is moon. The last line is about the lighthouse being turn on