on the swing

[Lake]

on the swing

 

 

no matter how civilized

there’s always a primitive impulse –

to jump, swing, fly

across the undulating grassland

into the vast unknown sky;

 

to test what can be done

or how far to run.

 

try.

[Bloodyday]

the control prevails on matured minds

some flesh yet to scream

some flesh yet to die

never saw the sky

bleeds in harmony

neither i asked for

nor i compelled!

 

 

Great work LaKe

[Aleksandra]

Lake I like this style of yours. Short and well expressed poems.

Very interesting read. I love the end

 

Thanks for sharing. Much enjoyed

 

Alek

[Lake]

Rony,

 

Thanks for your poetic response. Glad to see the matured minds in your poem as comparison to the young minds. Mine is written after seeing a child playing on the swing.

 

Alek,

 

I'm not so sure about this. It was finished in a comparatively short time. I feel I'm writing something different these days and I can't help. But glad to know you liked it and also the ending.

 

Thanks again.

 

Lake

[tonyv]

^{Lake wrote:}

 

I'm writing something different these days and I can't help.

I'm thrilled that you're writing, Lake (I wish I was ), and that you're also sharing it here. Your poem makes me want to try, to

... fly

across the undulating grassland

into the vast unknown sky

... or at least to, hopefully, write about it!

 

Tony

[Bloodyday]

Hey Lake

 

i loved your versatile style which is too much close to the perfection, but mine is always close to garbage, i presume

 

 

But i must say this work is great and as long as i remember after a long time i am watching such an intelligent poetic expression!

 

 

i love your work and i must it's perfect and ofcourse, matured and about my self i have lot more thing to learn!

 

 

And Tony's August poem always makes me drive in the world of poetry and this poem always gave me the idea of new plots!

 

i think Tony shines like stars in dark sky singing his excellent creation verses!

 

 

RoNy

[goldenlangur]

Hi Lake,

 

Love the carefree sense in your poem :

 

"... a primitive impulse –

to jump, swing, fly

across the undulating grassland

into the vast unknown sky;"

 

You capture a lovely moment when the physical world invites and releases that innate impulse to be free of all fears and barriers.

 

goldenlangur