Comentariile membrilor:

= nice!
Marius Surleac
[27.Nov.08 10:43]
Nice imagery created here, a bit noisy the suggestions of words and the final line is very meaningful.

P.S. From now on you can post comments!

Cheers,
Marius
= ... rusty iron pieces, and bones
Ada Ionescu
[28.Nov.08 01:11]
Thank you for reading; so very glad you liked it!
I didn't understood... do you find the poem too noisy?
Yes, I think the final line could be the key to the core.

I've read "My shapeless sweetheart" and I extracted the best lines (in my opinion, of course):
"... the vicious crowd that trample each other as to the sky – thus, living on big foot, alongside you I can visit the world,
my fingers... pondering... had the sensation of drowning
When I hold your warm and velvety hand I feel the invasion of the needles/ that run like crazy to the hypothalamus, and return tired
the difference between death and life is exactly of six feet under: full of soil and worms/ and Your letters smell like apple, like cigars and taste like white wine –/ less like paper and expensive Chinese ink
From nowhere the eyes start to focus (...) and then resigned/ to bury you/ in time."
Unmistakably strong, beautiful, touching.

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Înapoi !

= nice!	Marius Surleac [27.Nov.08 10:43]
Nice imagery created here, a bit noisy the suggestions of words and the final line is very meaningful. P.S. From now on you can post comments! Cheers, Marius

= ... rusty iron pieces, and bones	Ada Ionescu [28.Nov.08 01:11]
Thank you for reading; so very glad you liked it! I didn't understood... do you find the poem too noisy? Yes, I think the final line could be the key to the core. I've read "My shapeless sweetheart" and I extracted the best lines (in my opinion, of course): "... the vicious crowd that trample each other as to the sky – thus, living on big foot, alongside you I can visit the world, my fingers... pondering... had the sensation of drowning When I hold your warm and velvety hand I feel the invasion of the needles/ that run like crazy to the hypothalamus, and return tired the difference between death and life is exactly of six feet under: full of soil and worms/ and Your letters smell like apple, like cigars and taste like white wine –/ less like paper and expensive Chinese ink From nowhere the eyes start to focus (...) and then resigned/ to bury you/ in time." Unmistakably strong, beautiful, touching.