Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

your feather lit a cigarette
the ruins of your tears became torchlight
the poem opened inside a letter you wrote
to the bird who was a famous messenger
in the great epic of the gods, where the
poet becomes a dark bird, word for wyrd
that name just came back to you black
like the night in the words who wander
down, the old secret longings of the look
she left on the table, when the rain spoke
to the painted smoke in the time of strange
many flames held in the heart cave, those
hidden memories inside the rose of moon
whose forgotten sweeping curtains of ash
left the mysterious phrase in the purple dust
her dress long taken down the coffee creek
you will find what you lost once what you seek
the words, drifted from her lips like fallen wings
left in the stolen theater of golden sentiments
like the empty whispers screamed at the storm
from a floating music of shadows,that tare the sky
from the grasp of furies of lingering doubt at the
gate of rainbows, broken at the wheel, the sun
sneaks through the grim hangings of prophecy
the god like cigarette, snuffed out in the bitter dregs
with lipstick on the butt of the joke of the language
once spoken by travelers of the wormhole, she touched
the sleeve of your coat of a thousand stones of philosophers
your coat of books that have never been read by reason's
raven, your great coat of sunken mirrors in the ocean of honey
her hair of deep space, written on the skin of eternity's soul
your terribly shabby coat of forbidden fogs, dragon of white
coat of roads opening pages of rivers of silent uttered kiss of
of the last passing of the rages of breath between never, never
oh, you are so clever, the girl said to you at that poetry reading
so many snuffed poems ago in the cafe on the ancient avenue
of shifting realities down through the end of the end of thee world

Much interesting poetry in this. My criticisms now---which doesn't take away the poetry of your images and word combos---the language is nothing if not poetry---it reverberates----and that I like----the criticisms---1, the poem is too long for being so dense with imagery. The total effect is lost to me. 2, there are two many adjective-noun phrases that accumulate and slow the poem down and make it too wordy. Some of the phrases are brilliant but maybe pare the poem down a little so that the energy isn't lost by the end of the poem.

The above is my personal opinion. The only thing I say is that this poem is so good in some ways that I'd hate to see it still-born with excess.

your right, i just cranked this out last night
at the last moment, without any changes
and put it on here for the heck of it.Although,
I have had the same problem as long as I
have been writing poetry, that is why I finally
wrote a poetic novel, with lots of prose poetry
tossed in with the story line.I read your stuff
and enjoy it, thanks.