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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: in love?

    Sweet
    is the hunger of night

    oh, but the dark, cold, hungry
    breathes of light, heat, contact
    somewhere

    beauty consumes me
    and I long to rise above it

    ...Created 2009-12-15 00:59:08

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: remembering

    I think of him often

    he reminded me of my father,
    although he probably never hit anyone

    he was hard of hearing, and he surprised me
    by coming out on his porch
    I was trying to sell newspapers,
    covering a lonely block
    by myself

    He didn't want any Morning Tribune
    but he did want to show me where he once had
    tomato plants,
    and to talk about his friends, who were dying

    I would have stayed, but my boss was behind me
    and we walked back to her car, as he begged for us to stay and talk

    I could not stop feeling sad, thinking of him
    disappearing behind folds of skin,
    shambling about seeing the ghosts of tomato plants,
    dying alone

    I think I could find his house again
    the one with the big porch, on the tree shaded street
    but what would I say?

    "I'm here to talk about your tomato plants."

    It would probably make sense to him
    and I wouldn't care
    because I know what it's like to be lonely

    It is safer, perhaps
    to send a Christmas card,
    even though I don't know his name
    Maybe attached to some plants

    "Merry Chrismas
    I haven't forgotten you

    -- Newspaper Girl"

    ...Created 2009-07-22 12:54:21

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Sigh...

    What is it? Is it perhaps that in my long hiatus my expectations have grown so that every little idea that comes to me seems silly and inadequate? Have I become so critical that I can't even see my own writing as anything but immature and unworthy? Aaaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Perhaps it is that the need which drove me to write has become something more, that I crave tangibility and action, and words just don't suffice anymore. The vague longing which gave birth to so many verses has found a place, a specificity.....and now I want SOMETHING......

    ...Created 2009-07-16 16:00:43

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    huh?

    ...Created 2009-06-10 01:55:36

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Sigh...

    My own amateur attempt...

    ...Created 2009-04-19 17:02:20

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: DANG IT!

    I now know the feeling
    of mortal humiliation...................

    ...Created 2009-04-04 22:43:51

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: something.....


    The Fugitive

    On days when I cannot follow
    Any conventional train of thought
    I can only by called a fugitive

    My prison was once
    A hall that you walk down everyday
    And my sentence
    Was to be what I ought to
    Forever

    And my escape
    Was an honest word whispered
    When I pulled you close
    The way I wished you would

    And ran without waiting for a reply

    To some place that doesn’t have a name
    To fall willingly victim
    To a conspiracy of daisies

    Where I only know the little things –
    The way that roots can look like fingers
    The way your smile lingers
    Over the waving tips of grass
    The tuneless sighing of a tree
    And the million tiny deaths of ants

    ...Created 2009-04-03 16:27:29

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Lonely

    I have shed myself once again................



    I am a whore for words.

    Always seeking, never finding,
    until I can wear my poems around my neck
    like crappy thrift store pearls

    ...Created 2009-03-16 19:53:48

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: i think i'm going batty

    i felt a kind of dying
    a delayed word
    would never be spoken

    i could not save it
    for look
    you walk by

    alone as i?

    and how can i say
    what i would do-

    take you to east city park,
    and let words become motions
    in the surrealistic flood of a copper street light-

    when we are so alike

    solitary and inexplicable?

    ...Created 2009-03-04 07:06:05

    dotsJournal: dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: I HATE VALENTINE'S DAY

    Lover Man

    Billie Holiday

    I don't know why
    but I'm feeling so sad
    I long to try
    something I've never had
    Never had no kissin'
    Oh, what I've been missin'
    Lover man, oh, where can you be?

    The night is cold and I'm so all alone
    I'd give my soul just to call you my own
    Got a moon above me
    But no one to love me
    Lover man, oh, where can you be?

    I've heard it said
    That the thrill of romance
    Can be like a heavenly dream
    I go to bed with a prayer
    That you'll make love to me
    Strange as it seems


    Someday we'll meet
    And you'll dry all my tears
    Then whisper sweet
    Little things in my ears
    Hugging and a-kissing
    Oh, what we've been missing
    Lover man, oh, where can you be?

    I've heard it said
    That the thrill of romance
    Can be like a heavenly dream
    I go to bed with a prayer
    That you'll make love to me
    Strange as it seems

    Someday we'll meet
    And you'll dry all my tears
    Then whisper sweet
    Little things in my ears
    A-hugging and a-kissing
    Oh, what we've been missing

    Lover man, where can you be?

    ...Created 2009-02-15 04:20:25

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

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    Compartments written by TheStillSilence
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    The Want written by Daniel Barlow
    Night- time written by Daniel Barlow
    To the Artist written by HisNameIsNoMore
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    In a Corner written by jeniecel
    Gaia written by endlessgame23
    FamiliarDemons ©™ written by kyserin
    Vortex: The Imagination That Is written by KeeperOfLight

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    January 10 07
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