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Tags:
  • Relationship
    • ,
  • Letting Go
    • ,
  • Longing

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     Some island desolately placed within this
    hemisphere
    An awning of ominous icicles
    dripping
    Down and down, the water flows
    trickling
    Is the skin cold or its it hot
    amorphous
    The fight is never over
    dreaming
    Still seeking for the pacifier
    satiate
    The drums beat to a different sound
    palpitation

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    lorchidnoir23’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Untitled 0 07/09/2009
    Tempest Dreams 0 07/09/2009
    Like This 0 07/09/2009
    POE-et 0 07/09/2009
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