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    dots Submission Name: Fragmentariadots

    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    58/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2779/1297/258
    Words: 133
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1054
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1047

       Prosaic? Quien sabe.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.


    Crucified in useless
    bedding purchased
    long ago, he
    feigned sleep
    to bitch-slapped
    fantasies swirling
    in a rum and coke

    Felt the morning hours
    creep like befuddled
    nuns, the legion
    of the dead amid
    piles of regret;
    repellent to the skin
    the afterglow
    long passed:
    memory sufficed
    for handfuls of dust

    As bars of light
    shimmered round her
    skin, he thought, "How
    beautiful, my psyche seems
    to relish filigrees of gold
    even as I cheat
    on her again

    In dreams, in magazines
    film noir, the pelvic thrust
    of blues, the maddened desparation
    of a hundred rooms of hope
    I could have held, molten
    in dementia's cooler

    Everything in the universe
    pulls apart, my love
    and we are only ghosts
    with less to prove

    Requiscat in Pace

    Submitted on 2006-05-06 01:46:22     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Well, I suppose it would just be a matter of time before I heard of you. I really appreciate your edits on my poem "Curtsey", and now that I’ve read your work I know to go back and add the few changes I had decided to ignore. Your work is very intimidating to say the least, but I did find one piece I was brave enough to attempt.

    The title is quite fitting as I see this piece describing the subject as fragmented as is the system that this person is forced to submit to. The mention of religion at the end makes me think that this poem comments on the frustration of trying live the more righteous life, yet everything else pulls in the other direction.

    There are expressions of remorse: “piles of regret, even as I cheat on her again”, and rationals of justifications… “Crucified in useless bedding” (which is brilliant!), “sufficed for handfuls of dust”, and “In dreams, in magazines....”

    I would say your conclusion is in the analysis of "Framentaria" is that... “Everything in the universe pulls apart.”
    There is an irony of desiring to do right by God, yet we are in this world that pulls us to do wrong. A world where all good things fade and hurtful temptation continue. “We are only ghosts with less to prove”… now I’m not sure if that is your final conclusion or another justification. But then, there are no justifications… only fleeting moments landing in piles of crap. Well… this is what my sad little mind gets from you strongly woven words.
    | Posted on 2006-05-20 00:00:00 | by Just Kel | [ Reply to This ]
      I see the last strophe as having a distinct voice that is profound as though there is a veil lifted. So the last line seems redundant and isn't needed.

    This reminds me of a line of mine from long ago: it's not what you do that matters, it's how you feel about it. And that is exactly what your poem is saying to me. We worry about what we are doing more than the love we feel as we go along. If we noticed how a particular act make us feel, we might have a good insight as to how it's affecting us.

    The dichotomy is that even the thought that one is doing wrong doesn't stop us. And you bring to light a very good point and bring us some ideas to ponder. But like always, a good deal of thought goes into every piece, Bill. Nice work, thanks again for sharing,

    | Posted on 2006-05-09 00:00:00 | by nansofast | [ Reply to This ]
      Very brilliant title and an interesting write. At first I was very lost in this but after the thrid read I kinda grasp something but then again I might still be wrong. Nevertheless the read was very nice though but I had some issues with the flow. I not so use to the quick broken lines and when I first this, it seemed a bit weird but by the second going it was so bad.

    At any course I enjoyed this, very unique at least in my eyes. Keep up the good work and have a blessed and most wonderful day and God bless. Thanks so much for sharing.
    | Posted on 2006-05-08 00:00:00 | by Departed One | [ Reply to This ]
      I like this, though I thought the last line a bit too much and you could delete it (your choice). An excellent look into a disjointed mind. Terrifdic work.


    | Posted on 2006-05-08 00:00:00 | by joeyalphabet | [ Reply to This ]
      Bill, I like the fragmented quality of this poem, the way the short lines highlight your title. I'd take it all the way.
    Especially the fourth stanza. Several of the lines there seem just a bit too long compared to the others... like:

    "of blues, the maddened
    desparation of a hundred
    rooms of hope
    I could have held, molten
    in dementia's cooler

    Each line becomes it's own image, it's own thought, even while being linked into whole sentences.

    Another way to take this would be to try and split the lines up more visually on the page by using creative spacing techniques and such.

    I know this isn't really a critique... mor of a throwing of ideas that reading the poem made me consider.
    | Posted on 2006-05-06 00:00:00 | by DavidHirt | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow. I'm nowhere near as good a writer as all this. As some say..the writing voice is fantastic. I've read quite a few of your writes and am always left intimidated. :) LOL...so I have no critique to give, only praise. This is really good, all of your writes that I have read so far are fantastic. Thanks for sharing with us. I think I'm a fan.
    | Posted on 2006-07-15 00:00:00 | by .:eVe:. | [ Reply to This ]

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