#1
little free-verse poem I popped out... hope you enjoy

In a garden forever secluded
there blooms a rose in the gloom.
Exiled into a world of grey, its petals shine with fey luminosity.
Red as freshly spilled blood, petals flawlessy arranged.
The desire to reach it, to feel its silky bosom, overbears even the most taciturn.
So close, yet so out of reach, the beauty is not without defense.
Daggers slice through the flesh of those who seek her.
Thorns. Long thorns, sharp as razors.
As plenty as drops in a rainstorm, or as many as grains in the sand.
The want is strong, always growing,
but the way is shut, never relenting.
That which one wants most, forever unobtainable.
Lost. Gone from us. Never here, but always there.
Ethereal as the setting sun.
When at last, our hopes our dashed
and we take our final look,
the Rose seems to be more radiant then ever.
As if mocking our efforts.
Our mortal existence.
Enticing us.
Maybe, it is the fate of all men, to see, but to never achieve.
Perhaps it is our destiny to toil in vein.
To have our dreams denied.
Our passions rebuked...
Have we in fact, lived our lives in this futile persuit?
This desperate search for the ever eluding?
#2
Quote by HogTied
little free-verse poem I popped out... hope you enjoy

In a garden forever secluded
there blooms a rose in the gloom.
Exiled into a world of grey, its petals shine with fey luminosity.
i liked the introduction, it hints really well at the existentialism that lies ahead.
Red as freshly spilled blood, petals flawlessy arranged.
flawlessly
The desire to reach it, to feel its silky bosom, overbears even the most taciturn.
So close, yet so out of reach, the beauty is not without defense.
i want to thank you SO MUCH for not saying "so close, yet so far."
that would have ruined this piece for me.

Daggers slice through the flesh of those who seek her.
Thorns. Long thorns, sharp as razors.
As plenty as drops in a rainstorm, or as many as grains in the sand.
i LOVED the imagery here, especially the sand. however, the thorns as sharp as razors seems a bit cliche.
The want is strong, always growing,
but the way is shut, never relenting.
this part flows really well.
That which one wants most, forever unobtainable.
Lost. Gone from us. Never here, but always there.
i love the line above, only suggestion i have is to break the sentences up into individual lines.
Ethereal as the setting sun.
ethereal is one of my favorite words, i can never find a place to use it though. a sunset is a pretty good example.
When at last, our hopes our dashed
the second our should be are. if not, this line is confusing.
and we take our final look,
the Rose seems to be more radiant then ever.
As if mocking our efforts.
Our mortal existence.
Enticing us.
Maybe, it is the fate of all men, to see, but to never achieve.
Perhaps it is our destiny to toil in vein.
To have our dreams denied.
Our passions rebuked...
Have we in fact, lived our lives in this futile persuit?
pursuit.
This desperate search for the ever eluding?
ok, i loved this poem.
the only criticism that i can give you as far as content, is to add an answer to the questions you asked in the last two lines. i think that would really finish the piece.



im looking forward to reading more of your stuff.
cheers :]
#3
Woops yeah theres a few spelling mistakes
thanks for the crit, im glad you like it. I'll be sure to try out your suggestions, might be just what it needs. I'll see about getting rid of that cliche, sometimes their hard to avoid but I think I've got a replacement line in mind.
#4
I absolutely loved this. GREAT imagery use. The only thing I could say is maybe break it down in paragraphs ?

Anyway, looking forward to read more from you.

PS: If you feel like like taking a look at the one in my sig, it'll be a pleasure. ^^