tearing pieces apart once the work's already done
Take out the fine-tooth comb
and give it a rinse
Look for the clues
Don't bang your head on the wall
Better than alcohol
We have the answers, do we?
We can stand in a crowd
And express the meaning of life
with a hand on the wallet?
Sift through the flour with
the weevil magnet
What if the signs aren't right?
Not everything can succeed
Pieces are always lost
In these theories crags are permitted
Snags tearing holes in my jumper
Announce the cattle-call to
Round-up the weeds in the garden
Nouns into verbs
or so it seems
People shouldn't be judged superficially
One bad review can annihilate the effort
The roots unrepaired by the soil
You say one thing,
but you practise another
I don't care that you're better prepared
Do you think I do?
This is the point
To dive into the medium
And emerge with fragments still attached
Make an impression and
Wipe it away
Little fountain,
Spouting from the centre
It's not worth going
The pathway is blocked
Definite is not for sure
Too short? You don't want the exposure
Rip up and throw the first half away
You never could pronounce properly
Meanings becoming entangled
By somebody else,
More of a controlling thing
You have the power to dictate how far
The penny drops deep into the well
Double D confusion
Double G agony
You should never walk barefoot
In a field of yellow grass
Prickly and un-signposted
There isn't always a meaning, you know
Some people just write for the sake of it
Over-analysis can sometimes dig too far
Into the overgrown briar
Random knowledge
Pepper plots with phrases
Minatory allusion
Polka dots adorning stripes
You don't like, you learn
Content seeping out of the cover
Letters floating into the sea
See how many words you can use in a row
Figure this one out
Analyse the necromancer
Unpick the thread of being
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 559 times
Written on 2006-09-28 at 02:13
Tags Analysis 
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Editing
Take out the fine-tooth comb
and give it a rinse
Look for the clues
Don't bang your head on the wall
Better than alcohol
We have the answers, do we?
We can stand in a crowd
And express the meaning of life
with a hand on the wallet?
Sift through the flour with
the weevil magnet
What if the signs aren't right?
Not everything can succeed
Pieces are always lost
In these theories crags are permitted
Snags tearing holes in my jumper
Announce the cattle-call to
Round-up the weeds in the garden
Nouns into verbs
or so it seems
People shouldn't be judged superficially
One bad review can annihilate the effort
The roots unrepaired by the soil
You say one thing,
but you practise another
I don't care that you're better prepared
Do you think I do?
This is the point
To dive into the medium
And emerge with fragments still attached
Make an impression and
Wipe it away
Little fountain,
Spouting from the centre
It's not worth going
The pathway is blocked
Definite is not for sure
Too short? You don't want the exposure
Rip up and throw the first half away
You never could pronounce properly
Meanings becoming entangled
By somebody else,
More of a controlling thing
You have the power to dictate how far
The penny drops deep into the well
Double D confusion
Double G agony
You should never walk barefoot
In a field of yellow grass
Prickly and un-signposted
There isn't always a meaning, you know
Some people just write for the sake of it
Over-analysis can sometimes dig too far
Into the overgrown briar
Random knowledge
Pepper plots with phrases
Minatory allusion
Polka dots adorning stripes
You don't like, you learn
Content seeping out of the cover
Letters floating into the sea
See how many words you can use in a row
Figure this one out
Analyse the necromancer
Unpick the thread of being
Poetry by Caila Ihle
Read 559 times
Written on 2006-09-28 at 02:13
Tags Analysis 
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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