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    Hello Guest | Welcome To Jacquii's Poetry in Color Forum


    JPiC Forum for Writers is an online community exclusively dedicated to the share of poetry and writing. As a continuing work-in-progress, our poetry forums host a melange of writing with new additions being posted daily. We encourage you to right now and come join us in our celebration of diversity with the typed word!


    erikestabrook JPiC Premium VIP Member

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    A poets life is aimless,
    Every page drained our essence like milking sap from a tree

    We might as well be gypsies, redifining logic in no space or time
    Caught between pages, a turn and burn,
    Walking narrow roads of hookers and lost souls,

    Observing the points of fate and turning a phrase
    getting nothing in return but the backhand of lost days,

    Time adds up, light as a feather my conscience but your soons to cave,
    Expanding with vision through the wasteland of physchotic mindframes,

    Penny prophets, regardless the form of isolation meets the frame I was taught in,
    A poets destined to repeat themselves,
    In life's game, we might make progress to fight for our name,

    Over and over I turn the page, with imaginations expanse,
    To enhance instincts that might save,

    Holy God, I see your better way,
    So all my gifts from you to you I dedicate,
    Grace will fall and reign
    Peace is delicate,
    As the paper maze this rat race has placed within the best of men

    Guide my heart, my will is aimless but all I can say is I safely pray for my destination.

    by Erik Estabrook

  1. Confused

    Wind WindXSaul

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    Aimless is what we all are. From singers, to philosophers, the artist's s well. But I enjoyed it thank you


    Posted By Wind | Jan 16, 2013
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  2. Digging it

    JONATHAN living not existing.

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    It reads like a bohemian song and I loved it and yes I do recognize that feeling of having nowhere to go, nowhere to be.


    Posted By JONATHAN | Jan 16, 2013
    #3
  3. Thinking

    Minellis'Vertigo Member

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    Hi Erik
    I liked your poem. I agree poetry can feel aimless in the sense that sometimes we don't know why we're doing it, theres no ultimate end goal. But its something that we are compelled to do and that seems more than reason enough.

    Over and over I turn the page, with imaginations expanse,
    To enhance instincts that might save,

    I loved how this line flowed.

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