Being quietly happy with what I have is not something I am good at.
The title of O Woe, Cotton Candy On Fire caught my eye and told me in no uncertain terms that I have to share this poem. And the rest of ~pereubuisjesus's fantastic gallery is full of sometimes-thoughtful, sometimes-intense, and always-witty pieces. (
Hmmm... the images and turning point are fantastic, yes. However, I'm not quite so sure that the whole motif of asking a question with the whole poem really works. That could just be me, I don't know. I suppose I would just like to prefer it as a statement rather than asking some sort of permission from an unknown entity. But the idea itself is fantastic, well done.
Thank you! What will happen if my poem works? Will I be able to drive it off of its page? Off of the internet? Will it cook my tortellini? If I swallow it in a pill will it make me happy after I have made the poem functional? Will it...d'ya think...(hehe snort)...will it get me a girlfriend? Just joshing.
Well, my editing hand isn't getting a boner from looking at the poem as a question, so I doubt that aspect of the poem will change (though he is very much aroused by an antecedent disagreement in the bottom half).
I appreciate the thoughtful comment I'll send you one or two too mayhaps
That's pretty much the worst way a human being can feel. That title brings with it a mean sky. I send you buckets of love. They'll be outside your window in an orange crane's beak in at least four days time. If you live on a continent that is not north america, you can expect my buckets of love in abitunder a week, but orange cranes recieve deliveries and start processing them immediately. "Red Tape" is not in an Orange Crane's vocabulary.
Oh, I really have to thank you for this nice comment, it really cheered me up! I just had this really devestating feeling in me and somehow saw me in this poem, but hey, right now I'm feeling ok. you have great a power in langauge.