Though I could scarcely decode this; Variation is the fun of Life. Let the good work, keep forwarding!

Oh Hannah, I seriously get addicted to your work.

You hardly use any words, and keep it so short, based on one main point, one situation, one scene, and yet it is just so powerful!!

The first stanza was really powerful by introducing the idea of ghosts of yesterday, representing all your regrets, memories, pain, loss, all sorts of things that imply you have experienced, but still affects you and haunts you. I love the silence here, and how you portray that by a game of hopscotch on your lips... I mean come on... where do you get these ideas from!!!??

The whole way through the poem is that tone of silence, and the desire to communicate, but not being able to. And there is a chilling, darker tone of the dead.

I liked how you linked the tone and theme of the poem, to the saying you used, and then explained in your notes. I was aware of this saying and its meaning, it really unsettled me to find this out and think of someone possibly being buried alive! EEEk.

Anyway, I thought you worded this poem really well, and you always have a talent for ending your poems as well as you start them. They do not end abruptly, and for this ending, the word "nonexistant" is just so important to the message inside your poem.

Really strong title, I related to the title straight away and wanted to see where you took this thought.

Great work Hannah. xx

What? How can you? This is just amazing Hannah and it has to be one of your best to date!

The ghosts of yesterday
continue to roam through
the boneyard in my mouth,
playing hopscotch over
the words that rest
in peace upon my lips.

Bouquets of withered
syllables lay propped
against the tombstone
I call home,
brittle petals become
the dust that silences
my last croak of
an apology.

I'm going to take this literally...do you feel that you have written the same lines...the same verses the same rhymes over and over again until you become afraid of them...perhaps they haunt you at night time?
-

If by chance you
hear the faint rings
of a tune titled poetry,
ignore the temptation
of exhuming my journal
because the metaphors
that once was a reflection
of a poet's plea
can no longer be saved
by the bell that swings
in the nonexistant breeze.

This one I had to smile at because...I'm going against your wishes and encouraging you to write more...honestly, I love your writes...
* that once was a reflection
should be once were because metaphors in the line about is plural...also..my spell check is telling me that non existent should be separated???

Nominating this when I can...really enjoyed this one Hannah!!!

This should have been a win, hands down. And it should be on the weekly winners, like, every week...until forever. I dont even have a decent comment. This was just so perfect. Dhjyadvjurdbk. Thank you for writing and sharing this.

Judges comments

love the whole boneyard in my mouth image. I like how the poem is laid out and how tight each line is with no filler words present. The whole subject is very interesting, unusual and a bit of a challenge to portray this to the reader in an entertaining way, yet I feel the writer has done this justice. So many images dance from this piece with each line as clever as the previous. I have read this through four times and each time I have found something else to marvel over.
Bouquets of withered syllables wins the award for me for the stand out line. This has a true 'poem' feel to it and was expertly crafted. Well done. 4 points.