Her
Severe pleasure. Boundless, no measure
Anomaly amongst treasure
Like the G-man, you can't catch her
Ropes just won't hold
Her eyes won't fold
But truth be told
I wouldn't be sold if they did
I want to hide where she hid
In that place where crossed souls
Abandon the words tossed out only moments before
Not just the meaning
Even more
The implicit shadows which those words bore
A slight tremble where love once soared
And my heart tore
Cutting my soul into pieces
But, this was not a heavy toll
Not considering how the good times rolled
I had been a rhyme for a reason and besides
This discordant note provided a mote behind which
I grew
And I wrote.....
Thoughts, which by then I had already framed in ideas
Maimed by this prison that they label my perception
Though I like to think of it as a fabled deception
But while you might think that would make me mad
Its all that I have
And I am very glad to have anything at all
Lucky am I to make the claim that she was mine
And still remains
My self proclaimed queen
And though unseen
It is clear that between these two souls befriended
Exists a love once mended and yet
Twice as strong for the struggle
I never forget
But I will always forgive
The most beautiful of women
Who has made me want to live.
Her - I liked the title
Trucidus,
Welcome to the Poems & Prose family...
About the poem:
The poem tells an entire tale of how heart broke, memories forgotten and imaginations controlled life. We often commit these mistakes. It looks like a write very close to the poet's heart. I would therefore voluntarily refrain from being blunt with my opinion about the form, rhyme etc. I liked the poem and I'm happy the poet writes firstly for himself and then for others.
Respectfully,
Amartya
Keep writing
The passion is strong and some pieces stand out, but I think you could shorten it and make it even more powerful...It feels a bit repetitious...but that's just me. I like this phrase:
"Thoughts, which by then I had already framed in ideas/Maimed by this prison that they label my perceptionThough I like to think of it as a fabled deception/But while you might think that would make me mad/Its all that I have/And I am very glad to have anything at all"
Maybe it's my age, but when I read a poem about lost or unrequited love, it's got to have something very original in its words or thoughts to keep my total interest.
Keep writing. You have talent.
Many hours later, I want to add something to this critique:
The rhymes sometimes are distracting because the words seem to be there because they rhyme but might not be exactly what you want to say.
THere's something facile about this poem that weakens it...I'm not sure what...but as I contrast it now with Diagnosis, I can see that you have much greater skills in dropping in the repeated sounds and rhymes while also furthering the meaning and communicating the emotion.
You still show much talent...