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Nothing Like the Sun · Poetry Minific ·
Organised by Anon Y Mous
Word limit 15–1000
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Night Shift
Night surrounds
Bubbling like tepid waters beneath frigid winds
Reaching up
Crossing boundaries and pulling close
It suffocates
I yearn for light, for day, for life
There is nothing
I’m trapped in my prison of black
Self imposed
Exile maintained by naught but my own need
I envy
Those who walk in day and consider not
The emptiness
Of vampires who want only the kiss of warmth
The Elusive
Waning traces of my desire as I rise with the dusk

At last
I find myself basking in the glow
But temporary
Necessity drags me back to the darkness and again
I’m trapped
In a well of my own choosing I sink slowly
Into black
Always reaching for light I cannot hold
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#1 ·
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Is this a Sad Luna story?

I like the personification of the moon, though I'm lacking context as to why it's unsatisfied with its own nature. Early in the poem, the short lines stood as their own sentences, but later on, they more often form continuations with the lines around them. I don't know if that was a deliberate choice that conveys some meaning or if it was just by chance. All told, I liked it, but I wished I had more of an idea of why the moon wanted to be out in the sunlight. That also makes me wonder if this is a Luna thing, since in our world, the moon often is out during the day.
#2 ·
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This poem reads well when spoken. The pacing created by the format creates the idea of two voices speaking both together and to each other. I think there was a missed opportunity to create a second narrative here, similarly to Hole in the Sky, where the long and short sentences could stand independently of one another.

The break in the stanzas is somewhat unnecessary. If it was going to be created using stanzas then it can be argued that it should be incorporated into the style and made uniform. Given the length this could have been broken into three equal length stanzas equally. But maybe the break could also be unintentional so… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
#3 ·
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Water flows
Surging through the fresh brown grounds
Soaking in
Pulling out the flavor of the bean
Pouring down
Fresh crema floats at the black surface
Rich aroma
Inhaling all my lungs can hold
Poem finished?
So soon, just one more cup...