Amber Leaf

Absolute regret - nothing more.
Spurned into a chemical mist.
Didn’t really care anyway.
Just a pick me up when I’m bored.

It means so much now – this quick fling.
Aching and alone with a chill.
Thought of you – the fun we have.
Upset over what means nothing.

Being with you stopped the horror.
Wasn’t bothered by that – took some.
We had so much fun; then you went.
Expected you here tomorrow.

Then it came – became second best.
I knew I had to expect it.
I hardly tried or wanted him.
There’s just one I want over the rest.

But I’m not even in his list.
Now we’ve become second best.
To each other and we’re hurting;
For that special one we’ve both missed.

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'Jonny's laying in his sperm coffin and the angel looks down at him and says:
"Oh, pretty boy, can't you show me nothing but surrender?' - Patti Smith

Punk is dead - get over it.

Acid culture, techno culture, underground culture, rebel culture!

Baron

This one is very erratic. Good in places but confused. Favourite word in drama classes - project. You've got a lot of feeling here but it comes back on you. Try and put yourself in the position of someone who has never read anything that you have written and see where it fails to connect and then revise it. I think that there are enough strong points in this to make a good poem of it.

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Eiji Tunsinagi

I really liked this one. Not sure why. It was really erratic. I like the voice, that might be it.

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"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Amber Leaf

cheers for the comments. i may have another go at writing it.

__________________
'Jonny's laying in his sperm coffin and the angel looks down at him and says:
"Oh, pretty boy, can't you show me nothing but surrender?' - Patti Smith

Punk is dead - get over it.

Acid culture, techno culture, underground culture, rebel culture!

MisterJack

I wasn't keen on the lack of fluidity. It was a bit too 'listy'. If you add some imagery, then work it into a smooth paste, I think this could be a good poem.

Hope that helps

Jack

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If it claims to be God, eat it.

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