I really like this poem, at first I was afraid to read it not for possible
suicide but broken love poems make my stomach turn, like the days of our
lives :-) But this is a wonderful rendition of emotion into the deadness of
poesy. The voice moves nicely in its repitition and seems right from you.
Nothing further is necessary to say as this poems, I think, wishes :-)
(*) / (*)
----- Original Message -----
From: "david.bircumshaw" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Wednesday, April 16, 2003 9:28 PM
Subject: Re: A dibble for Deborah
> One more, short I happily promise, if I wanted to deluge the list with my
> back-log of poems it might result in mass-suicides, the interest in this I
> think is that it is both simultaneously personal and not-personal, it was
> triggered by a broken love-affar but doesn't describe it literally, which
> might make me sound inhuman, it gave me an idea for a poem. I'd be
> interested in any comments on its formal structure, particularly from
> Rambletone, that Scots pedant. If he's up to it that is!
> NO TITLE INDEED
> When the four-week moon of your madness
> Curved on the blank pane of your head
> Obscurities thronged with obscurities
> In a dance from the living to the dead.
> You crumbled like cottony, white bread.
> No use,
> I had to go. Nothing more to be said.
> David Bircumshaw
> Leicester, England
> Home Page
> A Chide's Alphabet
> Painting Without Numbers