04-07-2018, 05:29 AM
I don't know how you could improve this poem. It seems like a personal experience told outright. It seems you could poetry it up through odd form or more figurative language. The former, I diced around with. I read it a few times, and took it to heart enough to reword it. Or refigure it. Only though as an example of how you could tamper with your poetry to give it some lasting effect without losing the personiacality.
Portland Bound
Red hair. Eyes, smile
pierces my chest,
the caring look listens
to my breath.
Momentary divine abstraction awhile.
The sand is falling in the hour glass
with each scared kiss
we share.
Without you how will I
?
Looking at scribbles from
time and gone,
by absurd chance,
love is as a re-run,
where one is a transfer station.
On the way to Portland.
It just inspired me that. I just read it that way.
Portland Bound
Red hair. Eyes, smile
pierces my chest,
the caring look listens
to my breath.
Momentary divine abstraction awhile.
The sand is falling in the hour glass
with each scared kiss
we share.
Without you how will I
?
Looking at scribbles from
time and gone,
by absurd chance,
love is as a re-run,
where one is a transfer station.
On the way to Portland.
It just inspired me that. I just read it that way.