A Neat Pocket
Scorned by the 'Thank you' uttered with cold hate,
my mascara runs across sorry tears,
please pop this capricious mood and save me
from the hopeless whimsical coppery
desperation which I seem to have blessed.
Me and you are lost in peeled orange shades,
pleading like children for hard toffee life.
Can't you make me feel alive anymore?
I implore you; dangerous spirit, crash
that body language against this fracture
that is forever widening my soul.
Naked fascination stripped me of love,
unpredictable, impulsive am I -
but I can change! Let me flow with tender
ripples and enter the wet world once more
where your strokes of imagination are
strengthened by the lithe possibility
that I court inside dimensions of sleep.
Surely you can grant me my dark delight?
If I fail you again then cast me to
the side of hot anger with an iced gesture;
blue to compensate the lava which rolls
along the words that leap from your vicious
personality traits, which of course, are
adored by this woman who gives you her
all; wrapped in a neat pocket of suspense.
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Submitted on June 04, 2010
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 55 sec read
- 1 View
Quick analysis:
Scheme | XX AA XX XB XC XX XC BD AX XX CX XD CX |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 1,025 |
Words | 185 |
Stanzas | 13 |
Stanza Lengths | 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2 |
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"A Neat Pocket" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 8 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/64575/a-neat-pocket>.
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