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Poetry
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| Given the Gallows | |
| By MissManda | ||||||||
| 18 December 2006 | ||||||||
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Poetry isn't just the written word. Half of the meaning is lost if it isn't also the spoken word. And you sang standing sideways, crossing your eyes People-peeping, you pointed past the two paths Where the willows weep and widows keep away There the trees talk, telling terrible tales Bellowing out boasts before their brothers Listening less for lest living is not best Didn’t you die despite their decaying words? Having viciously veered into the living Never knowing how with nothing to know now Forging together our old flights of fancy I caressed your cadaver in keeping you Hung high along the thoroughfare… sideways
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To be honest, I was trying to go a little farther with this than I normally would. I realize you can underdo something and then you can overdo something. Both have the same result. I just thought I'd give it a swing though.. I really love going overboard.
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