If the fruit
Is gonna be picked
From the tree
At least
Let it be eaten
We think
We prefer warm
Welcoming lips
To falling
Upon cool
Dark soil
But while one lasts
For a moment
The juice of a gesture
One merry meal
The burial
Bears fruit to last
A lifetime
Sometimes it’s just
What we need:
A cold shoulder
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
a very nice metaphor weaving
a very nice metaphor weaving an obvious fact; with a feel so light and sparkling!
I don't know, do i need a
I don't know, do i need a cold shoulder?
I don't understand the ending.
But I like and relate to the beginning.
Especially strong image of warm lips opposed to cold ground, it is shivering. Thank you for the fun reading your lines.
thanks, iriz, for your
thanks, iriz, for your comment. the compliment and the questioning. the ending is kind of a play on the way things don't always turn out warm or welcoming, but how even that can be the thing that leads to our success. whether it gives us the rest we need, helps us to plant our roots in other soil or get our hands involved in other projects, etc. there is something ironic about seeds having to be buried and "die" in order for something to grow out of them. just as their is irony in the idea of someone's cold shoulder being the thing that leads to our success. like the yin and the yang of eastern philosophy, there's no good without bad, and no bad without good.
Thank you for you
Thank you for you explanations! Have a nice week ahead.
I know a few cold shoulders did me a power of good,
that ole ego coulda run rampant.
The only time my lips touched cool dark soil was when I had just been punched out, usually for very good reasons.
I don't think I got your meaning right but I liked the poem!
My belief is that once I post my work it belongs to my reader and they can make of it what they will.
(Though I admit I get the shits if they get it completely wrong).
jess, I think you got the
jess, I think you got the poem just right. "a few cold shoulders did me a power of good." it's a poem about the good things that can come from rejection. like a death blow to the old ego, or a missed opportunity that leads to an even better opportunity, etc. thanks for your words and for reading along.