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"still naive enough to dream"

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A pop-up book of flowers from grade 4 are driving her insane...

"still naive enough to dream"

Postby trentm32 » 2/12/2004, 2:46 pm

this is the first poem in, like, over a year that I've spent more than five minutes on. I just kinda got inspired this morning ad worked on this for the last half a day or so. When I started, it had a rhyme; but I couldn't say what I wanted to that scheme, so I scrapped and just put what I was thinking, and arranged it in the most sensical order. So, what do you guys think???

"still naive enough to dream"

...

and you wish that the moment would just stay, and stay forever
you're old enough to know it's impossible, but still naive enough to dream
and you think there's a way, someway to keep it. If only you were a little more clever
as our hands clasp, and our fingers clumsily close in around each other, you hate it
not because it isn't love, because it is; my god you know it is,
but because you know it has to end, and when it does,
it won't be in a blaze of glory, but in a wimper of finality.

if only love was enough. If that and that alone could stop life,
the moment I first saw you would still be ongoing, stretched beyond recognition
and as I brush the hair from your eyes, and glimpse into the life I want
thoughts of tomorrow, and the next day, and the next without you overwhelm me
I start to drown in my own fears, my own lack of faith for our forever
but then I slide into my jacket, and the faint scent of your hair still lingers in the collar
and then I'm filled with hope again, too much to be safe, but not nearly enough to be right
for that's how it must be, love isn't meant for people like us,
it's just that I love you too much to see that

...
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.

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Postby gavtodd71 » 2/13/2004, 8:25 am

I like it,

but i can't write, so my oppinion in these matters really does not matter
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Postby gavtodd71 » 2/13/2004, 8:25 am

I like it,

but i can't write, so my oppinion in these matters really does not matter
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Postby happening fish » 2/15/2004, 9:18 pm

Absolutely beautiful. I really mean that. You managed to say just the right things in just the right way.
awkward is the new cool
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Postby trentm32 » 2/16/2004, 12:18 pm

thanks, thanks a lot. I had a hell of alot more than usual on my mind when I put that together. I think I've figure dout that writing poetry is, by far, the greatest outlet to use when trying to say something when you're not even really sure waht you 're trying to say.
"When looking up there, I just felt whole, like I belonged. Like one day I too would shine my most brilliant. Sitting there also made me think about sitting through services at my little country church back home. About that never-changing congregation of the same sixty-seven people and everyone has known you since before you were born. Now, out here in the real world, everything just seemed more vivid than when I used to sit in that little pew. That pew that was now so, so far away from where I was. I feared I had somehow left God behind there, too. I feared he was somehow just sitting there, saving my seat on the fifth pew from the front row, just waiting on me to come back. I left so quickly, I worried that he may not have noticed I was gone. And, now, I’m just too far away to find. So he’s just sitting there, patiently waiting on me to come back. I closed my eyes and prayed a moment. I hoped more than anything that he could still hear me." -an excerpt from my novella, A Sea of Fallen Leaves.

<a href="http://www.soundthesirens.com">SoundTheSirens.com</a>
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Postby veryoldshoelace » 2/22/2004, 6:37 pm

I really like it
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