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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: A Litany of Lost Thingsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    57/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2777/1297/258
    Words: 156
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 671
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1247



    Description:
       Please do.


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

    dotsA Litany of Lost Thingsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    This is neither
    prose nor poetry
    nor the soft caress
    it hoped to be

    Words were once the leech
    applied to wounds
    to bleed these poisons dry;
    then the leeches grew...

    Slender bodies hung
    from piercing hooks
    impaled upon their
    sceptered visions seek
    audience before a wretched
    muse, flocked to fallen thrones
    on naked feet

    Age and wisdom
    seem uneasy bedfellows,
    lust fondling her lover's
    hungry eyes
    with orgasmic pretense
    named revelation,
    as universal codas
    are denied

    We met the steel caress
    of comatose religions
    in sleightly different forms
    of fervent prayer

    Which of them are loves
    that clasp the soul
    which of them mere sounds
    that stain the air?

    As something of the emptiness
    through which we wade
    settles like silt
    beneath our feet,
    glasses tipped to oaths
    and shared surnames,
    another round
    like a birthing pain,
    lends further purchase
    to soulless shores;
    clutching fogbound
    memories of sleep




    Submitted on 2006-08-15 22:51:42     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      Hey Bill,

    I must say this is another quite interesting piece. the message behind your introduction was left consistent throughout the entire piece piece. "What is what". If it's not this, it is that. I love structure and to me, it seems you have structured this piece right from the beginning.

    My mom always uses the meaning of leeches. The power to suck away the blood when it has been infected. i still don't know what she meant precisely but it still stays in my mind.

    Anyhow, i loved the ending most...You bring together everything that you meant in the beginning and the middle. I just wanted to say that this piece like every other piece you write is powerful and structured. That's what i love most about you and learn from you. You keep things straight up without moving away from the meaning of poetry....

    Anyhow, do take care...
    ~Irina
    | Posted on 2006-08-16 00:00:00 | by charmedidentity | [ Reply to This ]
      This is neither
    prose nor poetry
    nor the soft caress
    it hoped to be


    Nice intro. So, if it's not prose or poetry, which one is it? The limbo state, in between both where it doesn't really matter, where you don't want set definitions to bog you down? If it's not a soft caress then it's a big hard b.itchslap to the face, right? Lol.

    Words were once the leech
    applied to wounds
    to bleed these poisons dry;
    then the leeches grew...


    In ancient days leeches were applied to let blood from patients, regardless of what ailment afflicted them. Supposedly to balance the four humours I think. But these words... so much poison that the leeches grew... to explode? Vile bile huh?

    Slender bodies hung
    from piercing hooks
    impaled upon their
    sceptered visions seek
    audience before a wretched
    muse, flocked to fallen thrones
    on naked feet


    Transitioning from bloodsuckers to an abattoir scene... grisly. From leeches to meat-hooks: are these bodies your poems? Other people's poems? "Sceptered visions": the holy hallelujah moment when everything else is dust, bones, material flesh of no consequence... the biblical imagery is potent in this strophe. By the way, "audience" seems one syllable too long for this for some reason... but I can't think of a word to fit this better rhythmically.

    Age and wisdom
    seem uneasy bedfellows,
    lust fondling her lover's
    hungry eyes
    with orgasmic pretense
    named revelation,
    as universal codas
    are denied


    To seek knowledge is Sin? Too busy scrambling to be top-dog prophet when the truth is simple and should be obvious to all? "Codas": musical intervals of revelation denied to us... because we're not playing the instrument right.

    We met the steel caress
    of comatose religions
    in sleightly different forms
    of fervent prayer


    Nice wordplay on "sleight"... this wasn't a slip of the hand while writing, that's for sure. A deliberate trick lol. What does one religion offer over the other that somehow makes them more special and in more direct communion with God? I don't know...

    Which of them are loves
    that clasp the soul
    which of them mere sounds
    that stain the air?


    What is True and what is senseless Artifice of hot-air blowing? Differentiating between the two is a hard task...

    As something of the emptiness
    through which we wade
    settles like silt
    beneath our feet,
    glasses tipped to oaths
    and shared surnames,
    another round
    like a birthing pain,
    lends further purchase
    to soulless shores;
    clutching fogbound
    memories of sleep


    Humans as empty vessels, mired in the mud of Life and endless wading through filth and disease.... and so we endlessly try to wake up... even though we think we're wide awake already.

    We're never awake. Sometimes we're lucky enough to be able to open one eye... and see the reality... if there's such a thing...

    Peace,

    Jase
    | Posted on 2006-08-16 00:00:00 | by alteredlife | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey Bill,

    It seems you are saying here that we all want to have something important or inspiring or comforting or revelatory to say, but often our words are just pretentious and emotionally detached. The bad thing is when you can't tell the difference.

    Which of them are loves
    that clasp the soul
    which of them mere sound
    that stain the air?

    "sound that stains the air" ... what a great line!

    It makes me think of Jase's "Teste-monial" about his poetry being 89.9% pretentiousness.
    The other 10.1% is the part that clasps the soul?

    Nice job on this "neither prose nor poetry" thingy!

    Annie

    Oh, I almost forgot. .. You said "sleightly different forms fo fervent prayer." SLEIGHTLY rather than SLIGHTLY -- as in "sleight of hand". I have to wonder - was that was intentional?
    | Posted on 2006-08-15 00:00:00 | by annie0888 | [ Reply to This ]
      'A Litany of Lost Things' who and what is lost? Those who do not understand the words or we who are trapped by the words we use? As always your opening stanza grasps ones curiosity if it is not soft caresses what is it? Now Im probably taking my own interpretation on this but the second stanza reminds me of the propaganda of false ideologies where terrible deeds are taken in the name of religion. Later stanzas remind me of past Empires like Rome
    flocked to fallen thrones
    on naked feet
    and present ones like America. ( (The f alliteration works well too.) While of course, the naked feet connotes pilgrims on pilgrimage. Those last lines are beautiful and thought provoking, albeit, I am probably miles off key.
    Hugs
    nessie
    | Posted on 2006-08-20 00:00:00 | by comradenessie | [ Reply to This ]


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