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11/14/2012 12:25:23 PM
conrado888 Posts: 1
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Hi there, Ive been writting poetry for quite a while now but have never had the chance to have it critiqued:
The Mountain Range
Before this range of catalytic mountains Where the sky is for once in the right proportion The sun becomes nothing more than a fountain Of light that serve up their beauty as its mission The rock is anchored in the hidden ground Traversing it with roots of time unfound Trees dot and streams stroke, the stone is settled To always remain the same, with or without the rain Calm and devouring strength sits static, unheckled Raised to compound the land with an imperious hand
Poised before it, Man can only wonder what he deserves Confronted with the beauty of triumphant simplicity, he purrs Intimidated, his nebulous mind is mated by the unmoved stroke There is a standstill in thoughts to emulate its passivity and to soak Into the questioning of the gap of size and his permanent demise The breeze rustles his hair while the rock stays so placidly wise The dormant power crushes him without even noticing Blind and deaf, it molds the earth and all its surroundings While the spec of human stays content that he is standing
But then comes a deep bolt, from the entrails of within Inside that darkness, something is moved and it is red It brews buoyantly, shackled until it reaches the head The teeth become tight, and the eyes suddenly lock and narrow Upon those blocks of limestone, no longer in wonder but as a foe These mounts are so old and dominant, says the rage of the unnatural instinct The land they share has been submitted but not him, unlike it he will not sink But rise up and fight against this arrogant might, or at least he must try The winds and the water has slowly made them weaker, stones cannot lie These geological masters finally have a threat they can’t begin to interpret The breath of the man is heavy and deep as he readies to become vicious Rummaged and auto destructive, blessed and cursed with this genius He will become the best, whatever the number, the pain, the time And so he onrushes like anybody else, getting ready to start to climb
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There you go, any thoughts and advice on this would really really appreciated! Thanks!
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