Litkicks Message Board Archive


Posted to Poetry

>i can handle no more
>metaphors for tears.

>no more rain springing
>from the eyes of some
>pained innocent.

>no more rain devouring
>the calm of night.

another rain stanza. I like the idea of refusing to bow to cliches, but there are more crying cliches than just rain/natural water. Petals/falling leaves, stones/avalanche, etc.

>no more oceans
>that smuther.


>only the cold of this kitchen
>and the small pain in my limbs.

"small pain" is weak. What kind, where, etc.