Not Long Left

Rookie (17.05.1981 / The Molten Core)

Comments about Not Long Left

  • Amanda Lukas (6/8/2006 4:05:00 PM)

    Vincent, I must admit that I have recently been skimming through the authors on the new poems list rather than titles. That being said, I've found that your name is one that always sticks out and promises a great read.

    It's a pleasure to read you.

    Amanda

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  • Mike Finley (4/25/2006 7:57:00 AM)

    There is a persistent melancholy in your work, Vincent. Siometimes it has a sweetness, and sometimes it seems to be something you are gunning for - a self-punishment perhaps.

    My prayer for you is to take your talent, which is considerable, and to reroute it toward less destructive, less self-pitying.

    The mind of a poet is a thicket of tares, but the world is bright and bountiful. Take a walk outside, and open your heart to the possibilities.

  • Michele Kostelnik Parrillo (3/8/2006 11:38:00 PM)

    This poem about the bird that dies in the grass is so so sad. I did cry. When I was young, oh so young, I buried a frozen cat in my back yard. What a poem. I must say you have got it Vincent. Oh yes, it was beautiful also - in death there is beauty. The feather.... michele kostelnik

  • Gina Onyemaechi (1/30/2006 8:15:00 AM)

    If his date of birth didn't show, you'd think he was twice his actual age. He has overwhelming, mature talent.

  • Joy Vanderhelm (1/2/2006 4:35:00 PM)

    I'm glad you posted on the forum because then I might have wasted more time hunting for someone with even a smidgen of your ability. You write like I dream, with force, power and emotion that could fill a room.
    Warm regards, Joy

  • john tiong chunghoo john tiong chunghoo (1/1/2006 1:52:00 AM)

    some of his poems are great stuff.

Best Poem of Not Long Left

The Moon, The Sun, The Sea, The Rain, And The Wind

The moon still shines like that of ages old,
holding distant secrets like a tale yet to be told,
The sun in all its blinding beauty continues to lend us its rays,
enriching us with memories of those blisfull youthspent days.

The sea still massages the sandy golden shores,
passing from the sea gods ever open jaws.
The rain still travels from open blue skys,
showering the land as the sky god cries.

The wind whispers words of both hope and depair,
in hope it strokes the heads of ours so very fair,
The moon and the sun and the sea the rain and the wind,...

Read the full of The Moon, The Sun, The Sea, The Rain, And The Wind

My Big Brother

my big brother,
is so great,
he reads me stories,
and gives me cake.
he gives me big cuddles
and sloppy wet kisses,
he jumps in big puddles,
and has two orange fishes,
one called Tom and one called Jerry,

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