Pass, flying, through sky
of various colours;
so big, soft and bright,
it's a quilt of light
on an opal lawn.
It can catch forms
from our fantasy,
and taking up pupils
you'll look at scary dragons,
fluffy animals,
and thousands crazy things.
It's simply amazing
how it can turn from light
to black,
and surrounds us,
bringing rain and rain.
But why do I always look at you?
Probably it's rain;
slipping from you,
falling on us,
drops of your pain
that you occasionally can't contain.
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Comments
it makes me remind of my poem,"Yagmur"
i wrote that one on a rainy sunday
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check it
[link]
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› ¤ ‡ Camilla ‡ ¤ ‹
06/02 => DD
07/02 => DailyDeviant's feature
--
› ¤ ‡ Camilla ‡ ¤ ‹
06/02 => DD
07/02 => DailyDeviant's feature
its always your welcome
--
check it
[link]
--
› ¤ ‡ Camilla ‡ ¤ ‹
06/02 => DD
07/02 => DailyDeviant's feature
Adoro la terza strofa.
Non so perchè, ma questa in particolare: probabilmente, rappresenta molto bene (per quello che posso carpire da un approccio personale alla poesia) lo stato di inquietitudine, lieve e meravigliosa incertezza mutabile, cangiante, sorprendente.
Wao!
--
"I'm not afraid of computers taking over the world. They're just sitting there. I can hit them with a two by four"
--
"My role in society, or any artist's or poet's role, is to try and express what we all feel. Not to tell people how to feel. Not as a preacher, not as a leader, but as a reflection of us all." - John Lennon
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