The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 12/26/08

[BlueIris]

"Stuck"

Stuck in these hills
by my own design
I find pathways
to the other world
choked with introspection now.

This cabin full of comfort
hand-made home-spun
comfrey poultice atrophy
has put my wits to sleep
and I am weak
from these holistic ways.

I need to touch
the rotting urban stones
and breathe the sickened air.
These quiet, clean
and sun-filled days
are bad for me.

—Stacie Smith-Row

[RetroLounge]

1. nice

I need to touch
the rotting urban stones
and breathe the sickened air.

:hi:

RL

[Tuesday Afternoon]

2. it is like the opposite of Yeats "Innisfree". Really nice, this one.

:donut: :hi:

[BlueIris]

3. Kick.

[ThomCat]

4. Is this sort of like "Adversity keeps us alive?"

If we have nothing to fight again, nothing to hate, nothing evil or bad or ugly, then the part of us that knows how to fight withers away. And then what's left of us? :shrug:

That's an awesome idea for a story if done well. :)