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You there, rested in the other end
of our square room
and I, plastered on the wall
feel like miles across from you

brown prints of lighthouses, piers I
merely am paper slowly peeling
to the floor I will soon fall
and you'll go on

simply go on with your unseeing

Had I been a handsome poster of watchtowers
there would even be a ceilingful of me
like tall trees leaning towards you
your eyes wouldn't be that unliving

roll they would to look at my direction
smile they would, a smile of their own
had I been not an untouched
old wallpaper of lighthouses, piers I

wouldn't be miles far

A/N: Dedicated to Viper9, 'Because you are already maybe looking for me I was obliged to write something, though imperfect as this one is like.'

crystal face I kiss
tongue tastes like sweet cold rain
I fall into pond

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The following comments are for "Lighthouses, Piers I"
by peterpaulino

What I like is actually what you didn't write.
At the end of each sentence it seems that a few words can be added to create an alternate story/pattern. Yet the silence of those words is loud, they seem to want out and the fact that you didn't write them is marvelous.
great poem.

( Posted by: Siah [Member] On: May 8, 2006 )

Both interesting and sweet
Good to read you! Lucie (as usual) is right: the delicately surreal imagination exercised here makes a fascinating poem.

Instead of a portrait, I imagined the unseen subject of this poem to be a real person: a beautiful young girl or boy, living in this room without noticing the wallpaper, even though the wallpaper 'owns' the room. A nice example of how so many faded, unassuming things get ignored by our world. The odd line-breaks and moments of archaic, Yoda-like grammar only add to the feeling that the wallpaper is so old it's peeling off... limping through a few last wishful words... unheard as well as unseen, except by the poet.

( Posted by: MobiusSoul [Member] On: May 8, 2006 )

Light houses
Peter...Good to have you back...missed you....Rose Tattoo...Light houses haunt me...Kacee

( Posted by: nitz kitty [Member] On: May 9, 2006 )

Wow. Normally I inspire jeers and uncontrollable retching -- I'm quite honoured that you dedicated something so beautiful and haunting to me instead.

There's some marvelous imagery in here, in agreement with previous comments. While I was reading it, I imagined a host of sights and (especially) sound sthat your poem evoked by what it said and didn't say. Mostly I heard waves crashing and voices fading into the distance.

As Siah mentioned, there seems to be so much more going on. The real power of the poem lies in the tension between what it's saying and what it isn't saying, and the multiple interpretations some lines (the ones trailing off) seem to demand. Maybe it's like a rorschach test for those in a certain frame of mind.

In the end, I think "beautiful" is the best word for your latest offering.

( Posted by: Viper9 [Member] On: May 9, 2006 )

Peter's Piers


This voice feels unappreciated by the other in the setting. The speaker feels undifferentiated from general clutter in the mind of the other. Like the repeated images on wallpaper; or, to restate an idea from an old saying- the other "can't see the tree for the forest."

A poster, however, is offset by a border, even if only the edge of its paper. It stands-out as its own being, with its own message; it engages the other.

For me, a mixture of Dali and Dickenson in this poem. Love the feel.

~ John

( Posted by: Flonigus [Member] On: May 10, 2006 )

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