if i told you i see purple flowers with smiling faces when i closed my eyes you would look at me like i'm seeing them at that moment. they show up in everybody's faces, anthrobotanomorphs. scruffy beards and mustaches become pistils, dark petals. healthy grin with squinting eyes and regular-people-arms and legs. and then you get up and walk away and the sun just shines.
This is great man, I love the ending. I have no clue in what context this was written from but it flows smoothly.
Hey Horace, What a fucking blinding idea. Flowers in faces. Anthrobotanomorphs? I love it. From the start down to line 10, 'petals', this is great. As you've said previously, you were just flushing words out, and in the last 3 lines, this shows. They have no connection to the rest of the poem, in my mind anyway. I'd love for you to take this idea further. You could describe a day in the city, meeting the baker, the banker, the bus conductor etc. and describe the different flowers you see in their faces, choosing carefully flowers that you think represent their different professions/personalities. You could really do so much with this theme. It would take a bit of research and quite a bit of time but I'm sure it would be worth it. I hope you do something like that, because anthrobotanomorphs is fucking brilliant.
well awesome, i didn't think this would go over so well anthrobotanomorphs...yeah, i thought that sounded good
