Wasted Along A Prosaic Eeriness

Awwww.... This is such a sad poem but I love it! I love how you expressed such sad and deep emotions... I feel that way sometimes and the best way is to express the feeling in poetry... I like the idea of being in a crowded place yet no one notices you, and no one sees that you're sad and aching inside... Very nicely done! Great job!

Rapunzel,

Oustanding desciption of loneliness though standing in a mass of humanity. We are all alone inside or minds and hearts. How lucky a person is that finds true love and friendship. Being alone is a natural state of flesh and bone, being lonely is the sting of sadness and discontent.

Nana, this poem was one I could truly feel inside...each word holds a tear...

The images are described so poetically and not prosaic at all, it is a really stunning contradiction you have between the title and the poem itsself.

Like the persona, which you describe, no one ever sees my loneliness. Few know I lost most people whom I loved, family, friends, they all died long before their time. They just see a sucessful woman in her prime and that is ok with me, I don't want others to see my tears. But to read your words makes them flow, hun.

collecting wounds from everywhere;
like the million spites I saw with a stare

^^
This reminds me of things I have encountered in the virtual world.There are some true mega- monsters in this sick, evil cyber space...No one ever treated me as bad as the enemies I made in here. Being anonymous and untouchable brings out the worst in our weaker brothers and sisters.

Well done,

* kiss and hug*

5/5 Ingrid

Wasted Along A Prosaic
Eerinessby Brillant aka Sun Shine

Since I can relate to the one this masterfully written poem was aimed at I would like to say what the lines mean to me

"In a bitter eeriness I lonely wander
over sharp thorns, I no longer ponder"

many who seek the beauty of the rose are consumed by its beauty, though it is the thorns that prevent many from consuming the beauty

'collecting wounds from everywhere;
like the million spites I saw with a stare"

I have coolected my wounds joyfully as I tried to touch the rose

"over a strangers land, lonely as a cloud
I steal a smile from the lips of the crowd"

I love to collect smiles any way I can

"I sadly dance with it over empty parts,
Between lost low beats of foreign hearts"
yet my sorrow is my joy

"full of harmony mourning with the breeze
that shakes tenderly the thighs of the trees"
moving in passion while resting in my reason

and roves secretly between each leaf
to feel some love , then silently leaves
yet my spirit leaves less empty

for along my eeriness I wander all alone
over pithy lands that would remember me
if ever lost one of it's prosaic stones..

You seem to have arranged a masterpiece with the stones you write of

A wonderful poem, infact it scared me a little. I am about to go away for a year to a foreign country teaching english. You have captured my fears of the lonely times ahead that will fill the inbetween of teh new experiences. You have a great gift with words too, i loved the line ending with 'thighs of trees', unique!