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Hearts are thrown at Strangers aren’t they?

 

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

 

Splattered on a canvas

Or, scrawled on a wall.

Art

Is just

A husk of form

Without the artless agony

Of daily life:

The strangled scream

And the carving knife.

 

 

Guernica Pablo Picasso 1937

🌷(7)

◄ Sonnet

On the Brink ►

Comments

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Don Matthews

Sun 18th Aug 2019 04:59

John - you've got it. I fall asleep half-way if a poem's too long.

(So why have I seen you sometimes writing great long rhymes Matthews?.....?).....No comment.

Seriously, poetry is an art, and to me, it's skill lies in encapsulating an idea in as few words as possible. Which is why I like clever haiku.
You should write more short ones John. Challenge the thinking reader.

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John Marks

Sun 18th Aug 2019 00:55

Cathy, Keith and Tom. I've finally cracked this poetry malarky: the fewer the words the more the praise. Is that it?

Seriously thank you very much for noticing the verbal graffiti.

John.

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victoriavautaw@gmail.com

Sat 17th Aug 2019 04:41

Sometimes reading your poems is like looking at a Picasso or Rembrandt. Exquisite art for the ages. ?

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keith jeffries

Thu 15th Aug 2019 21:49

John,

two very different portraits of life with the most appropriate words to compliment them.. Quite extraordinary.
Thank you

Keith

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Tom

Thu 15th Aug 2019 21:48

Love this John, pure excellence!

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