poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Dancing With Knives

Found in possession of a seven inch blade,
his major offence indelibly remained,
a tumble that claimed a low wood fence,
arms bent, legs driven,
lacking all kinds of natural rythmn
and he could never hum in tune.
Sliced perfumed roses off thick barbed stems,
destined for the lovers of important men.
When questioned he spoke like a full grown poet.
"I found them blown, driven white as snow  
between moist stars. Where fresh mown grass colours
distant places, among a mess of syringes,
multi coloured laces, pills, thrills gesticulating faces,
those traces of happier times.
Is it too late for me to be a better person?"
They raided his flat behind The Essex Hotel
where a tiny baby's photo lay.
Wrapped in a shawl with pink hands gloved,
next to a note shoved in an empty wallet,
on which in one or two places
had been scrawled the word "love."

23 Jun 06

Rated 8 (9) by 1 users.
Active (1):
Inactive (1): 8, 10

(define the words in this poem)
(947 more poems by this author)

Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha


l17 babies is plural use baby's
 — unknown

you are my favorite larry love your mind lark
 — unknown

This is darkly romantic - did he cut off her hands???  Hey, put some space after your commas.

This is creative, really.
 — Isabelle5

Thanks for the spot unknown
 — larrylark

Your my fav too unknown even though i'll never know you,and thats herd to bear for a sensitive soul like wot i am.
 — larrylark

Sorry once more about the spacing Isabelle and i try sooo hard.This poem is about a lovely little boy i used to teach a long time ago who then had behavioural problems. He grew into a gawkey deeply insecure adult who used to bang into things and knock stuff over.He became severely addicted to heroin and despite 3 attempts at rehab could not kick it.He tried twice to OD and finally managed it at the third attempt .His only child could not live with him but he always carried a picture of her in his wallet which he used to show to people in pubs.

Thanks for reading

 — larrylark

Ah, Random!  Still love it!
 — Isabelle5

this is heavy stuff, I am in awe.
 — themorrigan

More poets need to find this lucky little gem.  
 — Isabelle5