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Fool-Proof

This Era, just made of static
My Path: the road enigmatic
And every move doth seem erratic
As I try to keep my thoughts Pragmatic
But a muddled, maddened, mourning Mind
Reasons not with the Trials at hand
My Point forgotten, please pass me the Wine
(For nothing ever goes as planned)

angerwinerhyme

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Richard Lamoureux

August 23, 2013 at 2:57 PM

I agree with Catie, I feel you have much more to say. Perhaps it's a matter of moving beyond your comfort zone and pushing yourself. You are an articulate guy and I have no doubt you have the talent.

Just That Archaic Poet

August 23, 2013 at 5:30 PM

I think it's more a matter of philosophy than comfort. I just have this belief that if a poem is too long, my ideas and meaning get muddled in metaphors and I lose impact. I would rather my poems be like giant meteor that crashes into the readers mind, rather than a series of small, strung-out and strung-along meteorites that make dings. That's probably a poor simile, but I hope it makes sense :)

Vicky Tsiluma

August 23, 2013 at 9:28 AM

I love this - the angst comes out subtly and the drowning of sorrows lends well to the theme. Well penned.

Just That Archaic Poet

August 23, 2013 at 9:57 AM

Thanks as always for dropping in, Vicky. Interesting that you found angst; I figured most would find apathy. I love different interpretations. I appreciate the compliments; you are one terrific lady :)

Just That Archaic Poet

August 23, 2013 at 9:53 AM

Your kind words have made my day, Catie. I cannot really tell you how much it means to me. As to your question of age, I am 34, but many of the poems I have been posting were written in my early twenties. I appreciate that you would like to see longer pieces, but it's just a personal preference that my rhyming poems never exceed 16 lines; after that, I think ideas get muddled and drowned.

Fool-Proof

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