<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=494083" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Demands Of Our Poetry....</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">it looks like a race of letters<br>there is this old typewriter writing everyday<br>till nighttime till dawn<br>and the numbers have become so many<br>looking tired and<br>clumsy</div><div style="margin:10px 0">it so appears that the words do not experience any meaning at all<br>what is it to be a word in this<br>sentence? what is the meaning of such a literal existence? <br>is there a feeling between two conjunctions? <br>are the prepositions making the necessary links? <br>what clinching statement are you trying to <br>impress upon this <br>twink? there are no more stars in the heavens, <br>the moon has faded like a blue jean pair of pants, <br>the sun looks like a yellow button<br>and the universe has reduced itself into a plain white shirt<br>worn by an irresponsible teeter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">where are these evens leading us to? a devastated part of this island<br>speaks of the logical suicide, <br>ah, damned, the pigeons are not homing<br>and the chickens no longer roost on the same branch of the tree</div><div style="margin:10px 0">indeed, the word do not entice anymore to live a good life<br>the whole novel is not new, it is melodramatic still<br>detached from that tsunami reality, pure soap, pure tearjecker</div><div style="margin:10px 0">i wish to a truthful concern<br>one that touches not just the heart but the hair<br>one that surrenders and not just win<br>one that cares and cares and cares and cares<br>till the end......</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ric+S.+Bastasa">Ric S. Bastasa</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=494083" data-title="The Demands Of Our Poetry.... de Ric S. Bastasa" data-description="it looks like a race of letters there is this old typewriter writing everyday till nighttime till dawn and the numbers have become so many looking tired and clumsy it so appears that the words do not experience any meaning at all what is it to be..."></div> </div> </div>

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