Okay my friend Bryan wrote this. He is in the process of registering, so when you see Bheal posting thank him. Its his poem, yes, i realize this is a disscussion of orignal poetry but eh he told me to post it for him.

so with out further ado:

I live in darkness.

The shadows, which are the mainstay of other peoples fears and
nightmares dwell within me constantly. Instead of light, my soul is enshrouded in night, tormented by the lack of day. Occasionally I can see pinprick candlelights ofwarmth off to the side of me, and I rally - but the ethereal visions depart as soon as I am close enough to touch them.

Recently I've seen a light that reappears every so often, yet it never
glows when I look for it. This light knows me, but it seems to me that every
time it feels that I am watching it, it runs, dissapears, and dies. Am I really
seeing it, or is it just a figment of my imagination, an imagination that
wants so desperately to believe in light, beauty and warmth?

Always with the departing light I have imagined that I am a little
farther from my goals, a little more distant from that which I yearn for. I feel as if each eclipse takes with it a part of me, and I despair. I wonder sometimes if I wish for that specific light I see day after day, or just a constant light regardless of its identity. Somehow I think that I will never really understand what I long for until it opens my eyes for me and shows me that which I have not been able to comprehend yet.

Another day begins in the darkness of my heart. Knowing not the
difference between day and night I can only guess where I am. Onward to obscurity I plod,
not knowing what the day will bring, but always looking forward to
another glimpse of that recurring light - and of the hope it fills me with.
- Bryan Heal

I like this poem it flows fairly well, but big words don't necessarily make good poetry. I don't know too many people who've really taken the time to write something quite this complex.

The caesura is pointless. Also, it's simply prosaic with reasonably mundane language/imagery. Sorry.

Goddammit mrmonkeyman you're just out to find somethin' wrong aren't you. Why man? Do you have problems at home or with yourself, they say that's what creates a bully. :eye:

Goddammit mrmonkeyman you're just out to find somethin' wrong aren't you. Why man? Do you have problems at home or with yourself, they say that's what creates a bully. :eye:
Bully? More like, honest.

even though it may seem like i don't, i like MMM. I didn't really like the poem either

Besides, it's not an artist's fans that help him/her improve. It's their critics.

Fair enough I apologise again, but I did criticise it myself just not in quite such a blunt way. I don't find too much wrong with the poem it just could have been done with alot less effort and still been good.

The caesura is pointless. Also, it's simply prosaic with reasonably mundane language/imagery. Sorry.

i'm with you it is very pointless, but i have to admit it, this guy is good for the words, he found a very elegant way to say: i feel strange, it is the same thing every day. Sorry but at least that is how i see it.