To sharpen her
we sink dagger deep
into our own heart
when ignored
she gnashes
upon the entrails
of soul
bitter wine
she casts
as we embrace her
deadly sting known to man
to wed her is
certain death
to flee
few have
if in intimacy
she is worn
as jewelry adorned
her mark stands in
torn
to flee few have
to kiss her is death
to flee unnatural
what now, my oh my
to leave all that casts
her scent upon me
till solitude
mirrors me
then I'll be free
with no man
to shadow
my glances of heart
none to thwart
torment
my mission of heart
to trod on
without her
yes anger
left behind
replace her with peace
till yes
peace becomes mine
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Reviews of "Anger"
Reviewed by Jaclynn Huntington (Reader)
Reviewed on September 27, 2003
I could read this from two different points of view... which to me... is an excellent example of great poetry. Well done!!
~Jackie~
Reviewed by Kate Clifford (Reader)
Reviewed on September 26, 2003
Profound write!
Reviewed by Taylor Trenton (Reader)
Reviewed on September 26, 2003
Penned wisdom indeed Thank you
for the welcome.
Taylor Rae Trenton
"Till yes peace
becomes mine"
Something about the way these words are layed out, conjur deep exploration into all those who venture into the realms of their worth. Yes a vaccuming of anger to quickly be replaced with peace, if more of us then could heed this advise a better world it would be.
Josie
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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~Jackie~
for the welcome.
Taylor Rae Trenton
Reindeer
~Joseph
Love Tinka
becomes mine"
Something about the way these words are layed out, conjur deep exploration into all those who venture into the realms of their worth. Yes a vaccuming of anger to quickly be replaced with peace, if more of us then could heed this advise a better world it would be.
Josie