Poem Body
Strange is a place I’ve been
A place I’ve burned
A place I’ve lived
The name by which I am called
Strange is this life of mine
A friend who died
By his own hand
The feeling tightly wound and balled
Strange is coiled
Round my soul
It makes me sane
It makes me whole
Strange is a state of mind
A cool breeze
In a burning fire
A frame for all the portraits of my life
Strange is not a vision
Through these fingers runs
Broken indecision
Filtering out the rapid strife
Strange is coiled
Round my soul
It makes me sane
It makes me whole
Despite what I’ve been told
Strange is just a noun
Comments
Strangely, I thought this was
Strangely, I thought this was great!
Obi.
Welcome back
I would suggest putting stanza break just before each line starting with "strange". But the I'm a traditional type poet lol. Good to see you back
I am...
with Stan, I think it would read a little easier if you had the breaks, but it does read alright without them. I like the premise that [Strange] can be a noun. [Or maybe should be]. Well written and the pace is such, as it sometimes is perceived as being
written in rhyme. Which I think is a sign of a well written poem. Nice ! ~ Geez.
.
Good poem, atom. I like the
Good poem, atom. I like the rhyme and think it would be fine as a song. Have you thought of that? Do you sing?
Yes, the line breaks would be a good idea. Strange certainly is a noun, depending on how you use it.
Enjoyed and will return, Gracy