Tiredness - surrealism

this is obscure but written with such great imagery that I had to keep reading to try and see what it means... a tree was my first thought.. a spirit.. maybe you could enlighten an old country boy... even though I didn't quite get it I still loved it... Richard

I too, have read this over and over. I guess it's up to each reader's interpretation? "There's no trick to being a humorist when you have the whole government working for you." Will Rogers

great images and an unclear meaning. For me, it's a mix of grief and liberation - a spirit freed, looking at its old, absurd, battered form. I loved it.

While I love this poem, there is something I must correct: red and blue make purple, not green. Yellow and blue make green. I've been to the point where everything seems distorted, and I'd give anything for a bed. It's not a pretty sight, as you well portray in this piece. I hate it when my 'get up and go' gets up and leaves... LOL! ~Jess K. ---------------------------------------------------- -"If your mother still drives you to school, you ain't no 'gangsta', pull your damn pants up!" - Bill Engvall

It came out well, and the general thought is still accurate, as there are definitely purple birds, from the Purple Marlin, to the Purple Finch. Nice job. One more * from me. ~Jess K. ---------------------------------------------------- - this is part of the reason why us Americans are pissed! http://www.neopoet.com/node/14993 We're broke!!

Much inspired, both the piece ... and myself from reading it. Apropos of nothing in particular, it occurs to me that much of the time thoughts scroll through my brain that, like sped-up credits trailing a motion picture, make it impossible to follow, to read, to decipher ... and for sure blocks consideration of any individual thought. Except for one---or two---that slot in like a one-armed bandit in Las Vegas (or Reno or Atlantic City or San Juan or ...). Wouldn't it be great if we had leisurely access to all our thoughts that run so subterranean. I think of myself as quite creative, but the elusively innermost parts of my mind put me to shame in that department. You have such a knack for stimulating my creative juices to flow more freely than they already do. Your writings are all the more impressive since, as I understand, English is not your first language. Kudos (again), Chuck PS: I'm tempted to play a bit with it, though. As in perhaps to toss a few words, change/alter a few others, and see what that might look like. For instance: from above it rains dust and fishes the rain’s colour grey – like the young crow that sits on my nose it stares at me, sees a black raven, then nips my right eye, with the sharp beak like a surgical needle *** I now see the world in three ways – the clouds as red, the sky as blue; the mean bird shines purple the cruel wind tastes my skin, brings out the veins gathered like branches filled with poisoned apples some snapshots nearby – with saints, angels squinting their eyes to laugh at me, family, friends - all atwister I could do some other, alternate things with it; but I think at this point yet, no one's gonna accuse me of overkill. You are one helluva writer.

And this piece also held my interest throughout. A bit obscure for my taste, but recognized the brilliance. Tom http://www.neopoet.com/node/12548

The main gist was a tad hard to follow, but the words flowed so well, it hardly mattered!