Derision

4 Comments

Tags:
  • Anger

    Derision




                       You are not....
                              what you seem..

                       Your soul you try to redeem..

                       Devoured cries..
                              scratching behind your eyes..
                      
                       Making you lie..
                              to the woman so can't confide...

                       Running in circles..
                              around your heart..

                       Your soulful cries never to part..

                        Only to run in your mind..
                              throughout the existence of time..

                        Never to share..
                        Never to hold..
                              watching yourself slowly unfold..

                        Your pride..you've adorned-
                              your duplicity forever worn...

                         Finally.. karma shows you torn
                              by what you thought would never catch up
                                        fidelity's scorn........

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    Hampton commented on Derision

    07-15-2009

    The use of riducule and scorn to shower contempt on another is an age old practice. Its use in your poem, in a modified form, is a clever concept.

    Artie commented on Derision

    06-30-2009

    Oh what a tangled web we weave..... Very nicely done. Devoured cries scratching behind your eyes - that is an awesome line!! It forces you to feel it!! Once again... 10 from me.

    Cosmos commented on Derision

    06-04-2009

    I really enjoyed this poem. Brimming over with emotion and a fine use of words that comes together in a coherent and powerful peom. Thank you for sharing.

    Amare13

    06/29/2009

    Thank you so much for your kind response..Amare

    StandingBear commented on Derision

    06-01-2009

    "Never to share.. Never to hold.. watching yourself slowly unfold". Great stanza. Great write after great write. 10

    Amare13

    06/29/2009

    Hey..thank you so much for reading..talk to ya soon..Amare

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    Amare13’s Poems (8)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Art of Love 7
    MISTREL 2
    Derision 4
    Your eyes.. 6
    Sinister Vortex 7
    Bellicose 4
    Odium 5
    Crescendo 3