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    poetry


    dotsJournal: Placedots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Thinking...

    How much change does it take
    before you can say

    I was another person in another life,

    I have lived two lifetimes in one:
    the one before
    and the one after

    How far must we run
    before we come back to where we started?




    ...Created 2019-02-10 12:27:42

    dotsJournal: Apartdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    I am nothing to no-one.
    OK, yes, I am someone.

    You make it look easy.
    You have your life, a written script.
    You drive to work in your car.
    To me each moment is separate, unsure.
    To me the sky is a map; the stars
    Given up to us by the unseen, the unknown, the unknowable.

    You say you want to know me.
    You say you understand.
    But there are kingdoms in ancient glyphs, disappeared realms
    Beneath the hollows of my eyes.

    ...Created 2012-06-20 14:29:20

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

    Hello everyone :)

    I was really overwhelmed when I opened my page the other day and found I had been missed. Thank-you so much for the generous response and support.

    I will only say for now I am taking a bit of a hiatus from writing, but that I will be back.

    I am also working on a blog where I will be posting poetry, art, music, and other things I find interesting. It's really terrible and needs work, but here it is:

    http://mybloghasadd.tumblr.com

    maybe I'll see you there.

    Love,
    Erin

    ...Created 2012-02-25 15:40:32

    dotsJournal: Dialectsdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Tired

    THE FORGOTTEN DIALECT OF THE HEART
    By Jack Gilbert

    How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,
    and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say,
    God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words
    get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according
    to which nation. French has no word for home,
    and we have no word for strict pleasure. A people
    in northern India is dying out because their ancient
    tongue has no words for endearment. I dream of lost
    vocabularies that might express some of what
    we no longer can. Maybe the Etruscan texts would
    finally explain why the couples on their tombs
    are smiling. And maybe not. When the thousands
    of mysterious Sumerian tablets were translated,
    they seemed to be business records. But what if they
    are poems or psalms? My joy is the same as twelve
    Ethiopian goats standing silent in the morning light.
    O Lord, thou art slabs of salt and ingots of copper,
    as grand as ripe barley lithe under the wind's labor.
    Her breasts are six white oxen loaded with bolts
    of long-fibered Egyptian cotton. My love is a hundred
    pitchers of honey. Shiploads of thuya are what
    my body wants to say to your body. Giraffes are this
    desire in the dark. Perhaps the spiral Minoan script
    is not laguage but a map. What we feel most has
    no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses, and birds.

    ...Created 2011-11-15 22:58:24

    dotsJournal: At Midnightdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Brain Fried

    I am the fodder from the sieve
    that shook me out some time ago
    onto this cold land.

    It's easy to forget I'm human like
    the rest
    that I live and breathe and must keep
    this body alive.

    It's simple enough to dismiss the fact
    that I live in a city,
    have an address,
    and things I need to do tomorrow.

    Such is my frustration, the culmination of
    this bitter game I don't want to play any-
    more.

    I'm on a scavenger hunt for pieces of myself.

    ...Created 2011-11-15 00:21:55

    dotsJournal: Here, Nowdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: The Usual

    I could be so many places, but I am here,
    now.

    ...Created 2011-11-12 17:10:44

    dotsJournal: Because Youdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Stressed

    Believe in Nothing...

    It is all withering.
    I stop to pluck a penny from the floor, and even this
    has meaning.
    You are in my thoughts & I wonder
    How do you go on breathing?

    Rain collects in shallow pools on the sidewalk;
    A sparse, gentle pattering before the downpour.
    I try to fuse myself to this earthy water-scent,
    become first the mist and then the rain.
    If you could only breathe me in.

    Do you see it all in black and white?
    Where do you find beauty?
    To what do you ascribe your inner longings, where
    the source?

    As you sit across the room, I know
    you disdain me: the looking-for-meaning-in
    everything, the weak God-Searching,
    The ineffectual, unconventional-impractical
    melancholy I wear like yesterday's sweater,
    the tears, the everything
    is gray until proved
    otherwise, the weight
    I carry on my shoulders.

    ...Created 2011-11-08 14:34:36

    dotsJournal: Bleak Sky,dots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Curiously Numb

    A bleak sky stares, as
    A single snowflake makes its virgin voyage to the shivering street.
    Its erratic motion captures my attention:
    I have been caught in similar states of falling,
    When landing seems a misery and descent is much too quick.

    ...Created 2011-11-01 12:32:01

    dotsJournal: Of Lightdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Somnolent

    These points of light swim past
    a thousand moons
    beneath this place, they travel to
    some distant place behind my eyes.

    There is an ah, an oh, and then
    the world begins to turn again.

    ...Created 2011-09-17 01:09:37

    dotsJournal: First Frostdots
    -------------------------------------------
    Mood: Waking Up

    7:18 a.m.

    The first yellow leaf floats languorously
    to its resplendent bed.
    A pale, lustrous shaft from low in the sky
    enfolds the prismatic wonder
    of each blade of grass.

    Now the apples will be sweet.

    ...Created 2011-09-14 08:41:01

    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.

    perspective written by cornonthekob
    i would... written by Awkward
    is it nature written by MyPeriodical
    Reality unseen written by Lil gal
    El Llanto Los Libra written by MyPeriodical
    The Depths written by obsidiandreams
    warn out window written by cornonthekob
    Layin Tracks in Here written by teika5
    Cansansio written by MyPeriodical
    Finding Brandy written by MyPeriodical
    self-compromise written by cornonthekob
    Abyss (credit to Carina) written by Debauchery
    a war on her beautiful house (bre'anna's written by Daniel Barlow
    written by Daniel Barlow
    Understanding the pain of growth written by MyPeriodical
    No es asi, sabes written by MyPeriodical
    Remnants written by Soul-Hugger
    Mild Hallucinations written by cornonthekob
    Generation Lost in Space written by teika5
    bleeding part one written by MyPeriodical
    Happy Saint Patrick's Day written by poetotoe
    Agitations written by MyPeriodical
    No words written by Janesaddiction
    911 written by Soul-Hugger
    Los Desechados written by MyPeriodical
    The Veil written by Swimming Bird
    Humanity's Loss, Humanity's Gain | prt t written by MyPeriodical
    just lonesome. written by MyPeriodical
    Humanity's Loss, Humanity's Gain | prt o written by MyPeriodical
    slight change written by cornonthekob

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    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
    Posted

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