none yet

my spirit is dulled
this fog i linger through
tilts my days and nights
swirled in patterns of broken glass
shards of black and gray rainbows
a tatoo of bitter-sweet
like cold rain
......this has been me.

— Tonya, Mar 29, 2010

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

Critiques

Race_9togo

16 years 2 months ago

Welcome back Tonya

Long time no see. This is excellent. Should "back" be "black"? You sound here as if you suffer from the bi-polar curse, as I and my family do. Respectfully Jim "Laws and rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" : Race

Tonya

16 years 2 months ago

Thank you, Jim

yes.. it should have been black. Just occasional depression I think. Seems I have not felt good in a long time now. (Hence my abscence..) Very kind of you to welcome me back and for some feedback. I'm afraid it was the feeling of the hour. Always, Tonya

Esker

16 years 2 months ago

Its a sweet and bitter poem

I remember being stuck in rain through between rides or trains though the stations old and gaily coloured dulled with wear the people bright in smiles and downed still thoughts outside world was what I for want your work takes me on journeys unfolds the mystery like the nascent accidental of all muses who tinge their bright pre dawn hue Thank You Tonya for this! Esker~

Tonya

16 years 2 months ago

ya know,

somehow I knew you would get this one. :) Thank you for your kind words, they are much appreciated Esker! Always, Tonya

Tonya

16 years 2 months ago

just thinking, Esker

What is in a Name You, Esker Your title is befitting Grown from deposit and wash Formed from something great and small Remnants, fragments, bits of this and that Shards of rock to gravel Collecting to your completeness and separation A ridge of definition Complicated to make something beautiful

Esker

16 years 1 month ago

Life is simplest of complexities

We have the effects and affects of glacial deposits here so wild and beautiful this land This Canada one has not to go far to see such differentiation of form style and haunted mood I love it here it is my home this city its like Poetry all mixed the words and where we find them study them roll them over in our hands and examine them with our fingers sit on the shores or paddle up the rivers either way its wonderful reading and examinations of quiet platitude of soul the word the vision Thenk you Esker~