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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Twirling Dervish


Mardrax

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A drunken haze surrounds her,

as she takes up my hand,

drags me to an empty patch of floor.

Round and round and round she twirls,

until she can barely stand.

This girl... I adore.

 

She falls over,

I catch her;

the first of many times?

I drag her to her feet,

our eyes silently meet.

...

She twirls on.

I just wish I had more guts sometimes.

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Interesting poem, Mardrax. :-) I found the rhyme scheme somewhat jarring as I read through it and was initially going to criticize it... but observing the way that the poem is structured, I think the form seems to work well in conveying the drunken awkwardness of the situation. I particularly like the way that the lines get progressively longer and more jumbled in the first stanza, as the stilted feel of the lines really complimented the drunken dancing of the girl. The ending of the poem was the only part that didn't quite vibe with me in the end, mainly because I felt that the tone and the word choice of the last line had a more down to earth feel than the eloquent phrasing chosen to describe things in the rest of the poem (i.e "empty patch of floor," "drunken haze," etc.)

 

Yet another interesting take on poetic form from you, Mardrax. :-) Thanks for sharing it, and keep up the good work.

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