Untitled Bubble


The sun streams my lifted arm,

dressing me with winter petals.


All here - commence,

safe minutes mine,

like a morning hare,

with pinching grins, kicking. I feel you in my chest -

suspended, unravelled,

unreal, unspoilt.


Everyday, you are,


and just enough. Enough, enough for me,


that you exist here when I am alone.


Who knows what anybody does to another?


The snow kisses my nose -

reassures, makes me feel delicate, almost pretty,


and I stand silly; here, there, everywhere,



but not.


◄ I cannot write.

Neptune's Daughter ►


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Marianne Louise Daniels

Fri 21st Jan 2011 22:32


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kealan coady

Fri 21st Jan 2011 18:45

This is deadly. Theres a structured carelessness to it that I appreciate.

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Laura Taylor

Fri 21st Jan 2011 09:44

Some lovely lines in here, cracking opening.

who knows what anybody does to another? quite.

and 'but not' :) nice ending

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Andy N

Fri 21st Jan 2011 08:15

Particularly like 'The sun streams my lifted arm, dressing me with winter petals' but i think the full piece is lovely.. has a out of worldness feel to it which i can really relate to.. one of my favourite pieces of yours x

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 20th Jan 2011 19:41

This is lovely, Marianne. I do like: 'Every day, you are' using the verb 'to be' as 'existence', and also 'Who knows what anybody does to another?' - among many lines. I enjoy the metaphysical feel of the whole poem.

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