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Quillsword

  • Last seen on Nov 15 3:55 PM. Member since September 7.
  • I am a 36 year old person
  • I have 6 comments

My Poetry

  • Twin sunsets on the white walls / Already fading in the liquid white of the fresh paint / Colors running down to the baseboard. / / Trapped together forever in the red void / On the beige carpet: / It grows like an amoeba. / / When they
    73 words, September 12
  • / / / / Before a note—a thought: / A figure from the mind’s conservatory / Trying to find its place on the keys. / A finger falls a full foot / Onto the white; / One hammer dives out of place, meeting / Its mate—the string—in their
    261 words, 2 comments, September 7

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  • on Fettered by algoressister, on September 23
    I think you write well, but unfortunately, it feels as if I've read this poem before.

    "Snatching it tight/ to heighten the spell" was a nice line, and one that's a bit intriguing. The speaker in this poem is certainly under a spell. She feels a need to be imprisoned; to be captured and dominated by another. Her heart has been "gorged" and another has "made love to her soul." Where does that leave her? "Hoping and fearing?" Interesting. Is she really a prisoner to her lover or to herself?

    When you call the neckties (the uniforms of his manhood) "gaudy," what made them so?

    . Rewarded 8

  • on Sand Sculptures by gdb, on September 12
    The janjaweed is a tough subject to tackle, saying the least. What compelled you to turn your gaze to them?

    Years ago, I was told to write poems that scare the @%$& out of me. I can't imagine this subject matter doing any less to you.

    Yes you are correct, we are oblivious to the concerns of strangers these days. I always wondered why. Do we have too many of our own concerns? Maybe that's another poem.

    . Rewarded 8