Poetry ~ Untamed ~ Stick Figures

Stick Figures

Poetry - Untamed

Written by Scott Eaton

Tuesday, 28 April 2009 10:30

Comment (4 posts)

herr_doktor

Stick Figures
Apr 14 2009 15:24:12

Playing with nighttime clay,
crafting simulations . . .

Part of me
wants to see the answer book,
the part that spooks
its own shadow;
but the child in me
wants to play,
to cut newspaper clippings
from holiday trash
and dance around the pyres
of conquered fears.

Smile . . .
I like yr smile . . .
Night swimming quiet
summer nights,
air so warm
you disappear . . .

We dance the ceremony,
gifting quiet cues,
like stick figures
growing flesh.

#218

Stormcrow

Re:Stick Figures
Apr 15 2009 00:02:55

I like this - gentle, moonlit - caresses the senses. It's like a sheer silk tapestry, etched with crimson embers.

One question -
I like yr smile . . .

Intentional? Works, in my opinion - subtly adds a degree of playful intimacy that gives the whole scene a shiver of life.

Beautiful work - I think we should be publishing this...

#221

herr_doktor

Re:Stick Figures
Apr 15 2009 03:04:36

*blush* Thank you very much. I spent a lot of time on this piece. Yes, the 'yr' line is intentional for the reasons you mentioned. I'm going to go dance around the backyard now

#222

thug

Re:Stick Figures
Apr 16 2009 21:00:02

#224

You need to login or register to post comments.
Comment on this work in the Cauldron. (4 posts)

Selections from the Library

On Myself, On Thought, On Edward Weston's Photo

by Rebecca Thurber

Do you know how she became like this?—
Breaking into fragments
and mixing with the sand.
She was monumental.
She lay across the Rocky Mountains,
but now she is eroding.

Look at her—
At the shadows made by the angles of her jagged bones.
You may...

Submission

by Caribou Slim

I have wandered the corridors of my death
Marveled at the sculptures cast
in memory
Golden and ebony
Painted my blood along the walls
calmly
Carved my name across the floor with my fingernails
Heard my last breath echoing through the empty halls
paused
...

Angelfire

by Caribou Slim

"don't worry, it's all Good"

In the asphalt valleys
where the billboards war

and the desert draws kisses
down through the floor

the glitterwhores call
Golden and lush

from their bonfire ballrooms
in their amphetamine rush
...