Poem of Quotes Members

Call me Ishmael

There behind the trees,
a fluke;
pale hand against paned glass
and worlds apart, we touch.

The ocean-rush of sky blinds;
hindsight says there is no such thing,
only dreams,
but the dreamer insists.

With faith pressed hard against the night,
a whisper ignites storybook trysts;
I keep this,
a memory

to live forever in the revelry
of spoken wonder
hooked forever on
the tip of my love.

It was never enough
to read the legend,
but to meet the beast?
That is what dreams are made of.

by PrettyOdd
posted on 09/25/2011

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Comments: 12

Comment by google: Apr 15, 2012 9:52 pm
still love this
Comment by CnutTheGreat: Apr 9, 2012 4:22 pm
"Queequeg was a native of Kokovoko, an island far away to the West and South. It is not down in any map; true places never are"

My favorite line in said novel.

Reading your work always used to make me feel like my rhyming was laboured... Nowt's changed.
vote
Comment by google: Dec 21, 2011 9:32 am

ha

my comment was meant as a complement but the word confused makes it seem other.

nice poem


Comment by google: Dec 21, 2011 9:30 am
enticing yet deceptive

i think that's what poetry is.
the surface of a pond in confused weather






Comment by thestutteringbandit: Dec 9, 2011 10:17 pm
Terrific poem.
Ishmal ain't got **** on you.
Comment by FavoriteTheMute: Nov 15, 2011 8:00 pm
Very well done, the imagery I got from this is vivid....

I love the ending.
Comment by AChickWIthADream: Oct 18, 2011 8:31 am
wow I loved this.
Comment by virajvkc: Oct 3, 2011 11:42 am
To come back to this site after a year and read something brilliant again.

That's what dreams are made of too.

Amazing work.
Comment by Selene: Oct 3, 2011 2:01 am
Beautiful, so lovely to read your work again.
Comment by Atavist: Sep 25, 2011 8:12 pm
Well since Moby Dick is indeed my favourite novel of all time I was hoping to find something that would honor it to some degree, but the truth is, it does more than. In the expression of imagination's offset to reality, you wove into the lines more dreaming than waking, which is not as disparate as it sounds, being just a membrane of flesh away when you close your eyes to the passed day, which lends credence to the exposition of the legends origins. Welcome back, please stay awhile.

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