Nope. In this case, I'm not the one referred to. My sister, Amy, is a prolific writer, and I bet her poems number past 200 or so. She's famous (well with those who follow her career!) for lovely, flowing poems of 12 pages, and these are some of her best. What's here, however, is a small gem. I glanced over one of her pools of papers and rediscovered a poem called Oxymoron. It's really cool (and under her own pen name!). But the poem is its own best praise, so enjoy and look for more in the future!
Oxymoron
by L. H. Fallow
What is an oxymoron, is it liberty caught,
Is it with nothing bought,
A tuneless melody?
Or is it more like burrowing up,
Ascending down the rows before,
Like drinking from a bottomless cup,
And entering under a frameless door?
Is it like white that shines so dark,
That nothing but glowing shadows are there?
Or like the tide of an oceans not hark,
Fair beating away on stones that are not?
What is an oxymoron, is it freedom for a price,
Or a begrudging sacrifice,
Like dry water under ark?
4 comentarios:
Poetry, is it a deafening silence or a silent roar?
just a roar
oops, that was me. why did it say anonymous? this is quirky
An excellent poem! I wish I could write like that, sadly I'm just a wannabe poet. She should really get into blogging. Poetry blogs are really cool. Or whatever
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