Thursday, April 28, 2011

Personal sound and form poem

A brutal catastrophe drops,
even fate.
gruesome.
hate irates.
Join?
Kind?
lover?
mother?
niece?
other?
people question.
response?
sincere.
tears unveiled.
vanished.
X= your z.

3 comments:

  1. There is something quite gripping about this poem. It brings me back to 9/11 and similar tragedies. Wow.

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  2. I like the way that "lover", "mother", and "other" rhyme. It really helps to make the theme of your poem hit home.

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  3. Yes, Daedalus, I agree. And the fact that those words aren't forced and feel natural is especially strong.

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