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Rejection

Sounds of skin on silk

break the stillness

as she stirs in her sleep.

His chest heaves, hot and empty.

After their passion, before her sleep,

his pleas for a life together

were spilled before her

in torrents she denied,

in a deluge unabsorbed.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

More from this author

Comments

Pamela A. Lamppa

Pamela A. Lamppa

14 years ago

Sex sells. But I think the poem needs more.

Well, I suppose one could look at this as a rejection but my feelings say - OK so what next? I wanted a bit more than a seed spilled moment.

If this is a metaphor for something else, I think it needs a more expansion. If this is simply the moment that it is, and the fleeting thoughts of a lover who did not accept - then -- eh. Why do we need to know?

There is potential here. Sex sells. But I think the poem needs more. More power and more meaning than what you have let us see here. Show us a bit more, rather than tell us what was.

Thank you for the opportunity to read your words. ~Pamela

V

vexations10

14 years ago

Intended

for a short poem category it obviously needs more. Thanks for the feedback.

K

Kailashana2

14 years ago

I've been trying to figure

I've been trying to figure this one out, Al....as if the poem is less than half the story. I, too, need more to *connect* with.

~A

Candlewitch

Candlewitch

14 years ago

Dear Vex,

The title is very descriptive of the contents. The lament to end the emptiness is clear to me. He wants more than she is willing to give. And she wants the freedom of a sexual encounter without commitment. The poem works for me. I liked these lines:

His chest heaves, hot and empty.

After their passion, before her sleep,

his pleas for a life together

were spilled before her

in torrents she denied,

in a deluge unabsorbed.

I feel that just because a piece is short, doesn't mean that it isn't poignant and fulfilling.

always, Cat

V

vexations10

14 years ago

Thanks

some say poems should be condensed stories using word images. I tend to agree and that is what I was shooting for her.