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There are flowers in the attic,
Waiting,
In the dust filtered light
Of yesterday,
Resting, wasting
In stale water.
Wilting, slowly
As each day passes
Without her company,
Without the delicate pull
Of she loves me,
She loves me not.
(She says "He loves me,
He loves me not.")
She loves,
(oh, he cannot)
But the lilies are watching
Pointed downward, their faces,
In quiet anticipation
For the pattering feet in the stairwell,
Running from him.
There are flowers in the attic,
Waiting,
With silken petals caring,
Anticipating and loathing
The rescue from their haven,
An exile that keeps her safe
But hurts them,
But, oh, it's all one prison,
For now, to her.

------
She falls softly down from towering pedastools...


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The following comments are for "Flowers in the Attic"
by shefallssoftly

De-flowered?
'Like sorrowful seagulls they sang,
They're lost in the deep shades
The misty cloud brought.'
-Blind Guardian, 'Nightfall'

For some reason, this piece brought that lyric to mind. Such blissful, peaceful beauty, made fragile by the fear of what may lie ahead, but nigh shattered at regret of what happens now, and what lurks behind. Quite a balance between fear and anticipationI suppose it's a lot to take from flowers, isn't it?

As far as the actual piece (structure and all that business), I really dig the amazing flow you've acheived, Casey. The clencher, for me, was the amorphous sliding 'round of
'Without the delicate pull
Of she loves me,
She loves me not.
(She says "He loves me,
He loves me not.")
She loves,
(oh, he cannot),'
paired with the perfectly placed pauses between each iteration, like an ever-changing chorus of love and pain, dancing through the night.

Thank you for this piece. It's quite astounding.

Frieden und Liebe,
William

( Posted by: the Co.konspirator [Member] On: April 14, 2005 )

haunting
Very nice Casey. The images of the flowers and attic were delicate and together with the sounds and context the effect was haunting. Good write.
cheers
smithy

( Posted by: Smithy [Member] On: April 15, 2005 )

William, Smithy, Tap
William-
Very nice song, I enjoy it a lot. I'm glad you liked the piece, and I appreciate your interpretation. You're always the person who reads my first drafts, so it pleases me to see what you have to say about the final draft. The lines you quoted are also my favorite part of the piece, but you already knew that. I submit that the beauty of your words in commenting upon my poem far surpasses the beauty I could possibly hold within a poem.

Smithy-
I'm glad that's what you saw. When I wrote this piece I envisioned bright flowers growing dusty, becoming like a ghost upstairs. It's a very disturbing image, one that I hope not to allow to come to fruition with what it implies.

Tap-
You flatter me far too much. I know I always say this, but I've done little compared to others on this page. There are brilliant writers here, Andy, WilliamHill, Philo, Co.K etc.., and I'm little deserving of this title. Regardless, thank you for sharing your reading. An attic is a nice place to hide with a good book and a long night.
I don't think I could break this into stanzas because of the way the piece fits together. Although there are sentences, it is one brief explanation of an image and a feeling. To break the piece with stanzas would imply that I had completed thoughts, and therefore claimed some sort of truth. This is not that sort of poem- the point is uncertainty.

Thank you everyone for all of your kind comments.
-Casey

( Posted by: shefallssoftly [Member] On: April 15, 2005 )

flowers
your imagination brings out soft and brilliant expressions set together to form a locely poem..
I like this part:
With silken petals caring,
Anticipating and loathing
The rescue from their haven,
An exile that keeps her safe
But hurts them,
But, oh, it's all one prison,
For now, to her.


enjoyed the read..

flowery regards : )
Hiba

( Posted by: fairgrace [Member] On: April 15, 2005 )





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