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Poetry Magnum Opus

The Dare


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Madame Princess, your poet is here!

With a clang and a gong

A dead silent song

Is whispered

Through corridors short and stubby

In the tradition of spontaneity

We attempt to cover our nudity

With opaque glass walls and jaws

As two quarters cry Ay!

We buck splattered bales of hay

Listening as the absurdity tells of

How we live under trampoline spells

That mock us from square domes of rock

And with this final wrong

I can see I have entertained for too long

The notion of “oops I forgot”

With one final adieu

I present this poem to you

One small fat serious joke

Because on the day you spoke

You dared me

So I wrote


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Funny. Was the lack of punctuation intentional? There was only one exclamation point in there. I was trying to figure out whether there is a reason for the shape or it was by accident because of the center format.

"Words are not things, and yet they are not non-things either." - Ann Lauterbach

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It seems she has inspired you! Perhaps she has become your muse? I enjoyed this poem's pleasing musicality, delivered by the variations in line length and the nice mix of internal rhyme, end rhyme, and other devices.



Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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Hello PDgb,


Nice to meet you. :D



Witty and a brilliant flow of images and sonority. I do like how you've set the poem up and how it appears on the screen.



Thank you.




Even a single enemy is too many and a thousand friends too few - Bhutanese saying.

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everything's been said, nicely done.


"Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends.

There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh."


"I don't believe you."


"Oh come, you can hear its faint echo right now. I'm here to turn up the volume.

To press the stinking face of humanity into the dark blood of its own secret heart."

"There's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
Then, slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out he rips open old wounds

When I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins

Hollow me out, I want to feel empty"
-- "Being Able To Feel Nothing" by Oathbreaker


"Sky turns to a deeper grey

the sun fades by the moon

hell's come from the distant hills

tortures dreams of the doomed

and they pray, yet they prey

and they pray, still they prey"
-- "Still They Prey" by Cough


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  • 2 weeks later...

Hi, PDgb. After I read the first line, my mind went directly to Tagore's poetry :). I like how this poem is placed. I like the visual effect. It works fine. Nice to read your poetry.



The poet is a liar who always speaks the truth - Jean Cocteau

History of Macedonia



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  • 3 weeks later...

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