interesting images. I love your style so much.

My god. May I tell you right now that this is exactly what I felt today? I haven't been able to put it into words - and you just did. There's a lonesome, musing tone to this whole thing, and I absolutely adore the little bits where you added real life into the mix.

"just a furrowed, chipped away referencesifting alluding to everything refused from this world" - Wow. Amazing, amazing line. Can I quote you? =)

What a different perspective! I love it when I find a writer who's able to put a new slant on things; to notice things in a way that makes me re-think things. This is really good. An original piece!

"A behaviour usually reserved for February / when every morning I crawl out of bed; / Sloppy." My favourite lines:)

powerful in it's own quiet way, heh, really love the one image, stood out terribly strong and helped set the mood for the rest of the poem, just lovely

Wow, I liked this, it was beautiful, and realistic.

I love how unusual everything in this poem is. Even the title, "I have been quite lately," is never spoken by someone trying to sound broody. The attitude is one I know so well, not wanting to get out of bed or try hard at anything. The phrase "alluding to everything refused from this world" hit deep. I used to be (and maybe still am) dissatisfied, because of the word "could." What if my parents weren't so strict? What if I was pretty? What if, what if, what if? You coveyed the inner attitude so well!

again, how beautiful. your images, the setting- february to september, i understand completely. it's odd how much i relate to such few words. this is quite lovely.

Whoa...amazing. I have no critique for it. Good job!

so sad and beautiful

"to everything refused from this world." "everything is a crescendo. . ." once again you're a genius.

Ah, how I can feel on many an occasion.

I adore ' and everything is a crescendo writhing in myesophagus '. just fanastic, simply a lovely poem.

~* noelle

I love this; I can find myself in your words easily. Crawling out of bed while its still dark, I have to be at word before the sun comes up, I feel like I've missed a years worth of mornings, and the line about your birthday being in twenty-three days (happy birthday in advance) my birthday's in fifty-nine days. Keep up the good work.

Much love,Juliet.

I adore 'thinking of slivers' & 'a crescendo writhing in my esophagus'. How do you come up with that?! Lovely poem.

makes me think of porcupine tree, who i love, so it's good. "and everything is a crescendo writhing in my / esophagus"