the_whistler's profile
AGE:
32
LOC: United Kingdom
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: June 01
LOC: United Kingdom
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: June 01
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Items
Version 1
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Black silk sheets, they roll at midnight, You're trying to shock- but instead This tired man is longing for his bed, Gonna place a pillow beneath my head. You're so much more attractive, Each time you play the virgin. I'm tired of scandals in the twilight, She was acting like a whore, yeah! Is this some act? Some dour pantomime? Are you just trying to blind my wandering eye? You're so much more attractive, Each time you play the virgin. White satin sheets caress us after twilight; The china s...
Version 1
1 Review
1 Comment
You can go where you want to go, there's no need to wait for me. I can cry to you on the phone saying you must let me be, I can smile as I make my plans and think of all the places I'll see, As I try too hard to meet someone who'll set this spirit free. But how can this be? How can this be? Here I am in different guises trying to hide from you, As I dream of a distant place I'm trying to get to, Being someone else today is all I want to do, I want to set this spirit free and be wholesome thro...
Version 1
3 Reviews
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I'm a night stone dreamer and I never felt like this before, When she stares at the sky and her eyes fall to the floor, When she gives me a little and always leaves me wanting more, She's a wildcat prowling; she's a leopard without a claw. I'm a fool in this scene, and I think I really like it this way, She's a star, she's a dream, she's the sun that brightens the day, She's a drug, sex machine; she's a goddess to whom I pray, I'm the rich, I'm the poor, and I guess there's nothing left to sa...
Version 1
0 Reviews
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Your radio-waves don't make me laugh, Take another photograph, Take another well-earned rest, You've got a lot of time to invest. Your crazy mama's baby's crying, Your soul's a fire and it's dying, Take a leaf from my book, Before you run right out of luck. I don't get much sleep these days, It's terrible when your mind strays, Got no money, nowhere to go, Give me a coffee and I'll let you know, I've got my pen and poetry book, You're in a rut and totally stuck, Hats off to this lazy man, Get...
Version 1
0 Reviews
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She said she didn't love me, She could have lied if she'd wanted. She said she wasn't happy, She could have cried if she'd wanted. She said she was a failure, She could have tried if she'd wanted. She said she's tired of living, She could have died if she'd wanted. She's being losing sleep 'cos her belly's full of pills, Promises to keep, but her closet's full of thrills. I said I was a liar, I could be true if I wanted. I said I was happy, I could be blue if I wanted. I said I was called Cra...
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Reviews
Writing humorous or stairical pieces must be one of the most difficult challenges which presents itself to a wroter of any kind, be it poetry, biographical or autobiographical, or indeed, and perhaps most difficult of them all- fictional compositions. It is something which on a personal level I have never (intentionally) managed to do, which is odd for me, as I do like a good laugh. Writing in a funny way is a skill to be much admired, and it is certainly a talent which you seem to possess. I...
The poem, generally, is very good. It is descriptive without being over analytical and simple to read. It doesn't have the reader dashing for the disctionary or scratching his or her head wondering what on earth it is all about. In that sense it is an achievement. It works. On a more subjective level, and writing from a personal perspective,t his poem really isn't my cup of tea. The reason? It is TOO simple. It tells me far too much. It doesn't allow for my own imagination to do any work. An ...
An autumnal crimson is on my mind as I read this piece- the Ochre, making me think of heat, a fiery red. The phoenix with it's flame-like connotations and then a return to those crimson leaves. As summer approaches here in the real world, your work has swept my thoughts away to the prospect of a beautiful fall.
Some poetry can make you smile, some can make you shake your head in disbelief and exasperation, and others touch you with a twinge of familiarity that can blow you totally away. The latter of these three is the rarest of the sensations which can be gleaned from poetry, but it is an emotion you have captured wonderfully here. What you have written, I feel I have lived. The hallmark of a truly great poem is that the reader knows exactly what the writer is speaking about and can sense the emoti...
Wonderful. This poem doesn't try to be too clever by employing flowery language or Shakespearean comparatives. Yet it is frank and intelligent writing, which grips the reader from the outset. I don't know whether it is deliberate or not (and I'm assuming it is), but the lack of capital letters and the sometimes inadequate punctuation gives a childlike, immature feeling to the poetry, as do the short, snappy lines. I'm not keen on the opening lines about the boobs spilling out of the halter to...
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