Awake!
#1
Awake!
 
I woke from vigour and a full tank—
crashing in a squint.
 
And dreams can be so mean
in their terminal tactility,
 
slinking away—
 
 
our fingers trailing their backs.
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#2
i’m going to go out on a limb and say this is probably the best poem of the year. do we have a thing for that, because if so i want to nominate this one as pigpen poem of the year. it truly is a work of art. and it even looks like a work of art. it’s physical presence. it looks like it should be blown up and hung on the wall of an art gallery. it’s a thing of beauty in every respect. pure genius.
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#3
Hey Tiger,
I quite like the sound and rhythm of this. I even read it out loud a few times just to hear it more than once. I also like the imagery with the dreams, and the last line leaves a huge impression on the reader. This is a strong piece.

Nice work,
Richard
Time is the best editor.
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#4
(11-30-2017, 10:45 AM)shemthepenman Wrote:  i’m going to go out on a limb and say this is probably the best poem of the year. do we have a thing for that, because if so i want to nominate this one as pigpen poem of the year. it truly is a work of art. and it even looks like a work of art. it’s physical presence. it looks like it should be blown up and hung on the wall of an art gallery. it’s a thing of beauty in every respect. pure genius.
Agreed.  Hysterical
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#5
(11-30-2017, 09:55 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  Awake!
 
I woke from vigour and a full tank—
crashing in a squint.
 
And dreams can be so mean
in their terminal tactility,
 
slinking away—
 
 
our fingers trailing their backs.



I think God gives us dreams because He knows
how we are struggling through life. He allows
adventures where we can't get hurt and sends
us friends when we are lonely. I love how He made
that possible because He loves us and he knows
our limits. Your poem brought tears,
so I guess it is a very effective work.
I'm hopeful you get lots of blessings today.


-nibbed
there's always a better reason to love
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#6
(11-30-2017, 09:55 AM)Tiger the Lion Wrote:  And dreams can be so mean
in their terminal tactility,
 
slinking away—
 
 
our fingers trailing their backs.
Onee of the most effective sentences I've read in poetry.
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