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Array ( [sid] => 66855 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Of Picnic Benches and Ice Cube Freckles [time] => 2004-10-10 14:22:52 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Picnic benches with him and them
on hot 'n' cold autumn days
I quietly sit, and hope he notices
and he starts talking
--he starts talking.

I hear him tell you
that he writes poetry
--Oh God, Poetry--
the only thing
that could make me want him more.

I wonder if he's ever thought of me
when his words flow onto the page
or if he's ever thought of me at all.
and this picnic bench only seems to draw
the two of us farther apart.

The ice cubes he's thrown
make freckles on the sidewalk.
And they, they sit on the picnic bench
with him and me on this autumn day
and neither they nor him notice
as I quietly sit. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 254 [topic] => 48 [informant] => emospaztic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )

Of Picnic Benches and Ice Cube Freckles

Contributed by emospaztic on Sunday, 10th October 2004 @ 02:22:52 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry

Picnic benches with him and them
on hot 'n' cold autumn days
I quietly sit, and hope he notices
and he starts talking
--he starts talking.

I hear him tell you
that he writes poetry
--Oh God, Poetry--
the only thing
that could make me want him more.

I wonder if he's ever thought of me
when his words flow onto the page
or if he's ever thought of me at all.
and this picnic bench only seems to draw
the two of us farther apart.

The ice cubes he's thrown
make freckles on the sidewalk.
And they, they sit on the picnic bench
with him and me on this autumn day
and neither they nor him notice
as I quietly sit.

Copyright © emospaztic ... [ 2004-10-10 14:22:52]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Of Picnic Benches and Ice Cube Freckles (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 10th October 2004 @ 05:50:28 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I'm reminded of ShadowDaughter's poetry here, but only initially. While I did enjoy this poem, I thought the correlation between the sense of place and the person in question could have been described in a bit more emphatic detail, as the lines;

"and this picnic bench only seems to draw
the two of us farther apart."

Didn't really give me the full impression of being incapacitated by attraction, as the line infers.

Overall, this piece struck some chords I recognise, and I must thank you for sharing them.

Keep writing.

Re: Of Picnic Benches and Ice Cube Freckles (User Rating: 1 )
by Silent-No-More on Sunday, 17th October 2004 @ 11:44:43 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

--Oh God, Poetry--

These three words... are absolutely divine. Oh emo --- I know how very much exists behind those words. There is simply nothing more beautiful, more appealing then a poet's heart. Personally, I think I would have fallen right off the picnic bench!

I have to agree with Neptune to some extent... this piece turns on those two lines. And maybe, just maybe, it's the romantic in me - but I think I'd rather the see the realization of his poetic nature make everything else fall away rather than see it get in the way. Sure, maybe he doesn't know, they don't know... but something sort of 'clicked' and I'd like to think that known or unknown, it remains.

Oh - I do hope you don't mind my two cents... it is, of course, only because I'm so drawn in that I'm inclined to ramble on like this. *sigh*
SNM

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