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    dots Submission Name: Hearthdots

    Author: Aruemos
    ASL Info:    27/M/Detroit
    Elite Ratio:    7.35 - 103/79/40
    Words: 244
    Class/Type: Poetry/Nostalgia
    Total Views: 998
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1476

       I got tired of this piece sitting in a forgotten contest. Since it is one of my favorite new writings.

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


    Sunshine on my Shoulder
    Makes me cringe

    Take me to the darkness
    a place far within

    There is a fire I sit by and tend

    It glows carmine and grins with delight.

    I must sacrifice a little of what I earn
    but the fire stays bright

    With it, I light the pages of an ever aging library.

    Stacked with countless books.

    None the same, in story or in looks.

    A blue binding
    A Black
    but a pale red and Satin I still lack.

    When the fire burns low, and wood no longer will suffice I pick up one of my oldest printings

    It burns brightly cover to back.

    My counted shelfs then seem dim where the new hole has sunken in.

    No shame,
    there no loss, another book tommorw,

    Besides I rarely read my classics twice.

    Even at that the fire's flame burn lower,

    And I know the light won't forever last,

    All I want is to be left alone to read My books,

    but someday a man will come and knock on My door,

    greeting Him I will meet the Sunshine again and I will feel its warmth.

    My Fire will die.

    In that dark library books will go unseen

    whispering bits of knowledge to the ash, where a flame used to be.

    But is no more

    Submitted on 2006-09-14 23:48:38     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      Let me start off this comment with a simple, blunt comment. That was an incredible piece.

    That said, let's get into the "why's". One, your imagery was phenomenal. Each of the words were well-chosen and contributed to the overall vivid scenery displayed in the mind. Through your descriptions, a mental picture is conjured up that is both silly, yet powerful at the same time. Personally, I thought of a circular library, with a disturbed man sitting in front of a fire that cast its flickering light over the pages it threatened to burn. The true beauty of this is that you started the scene, and the reader finishes it with more clarity than could ever be provided in words. That is a glimpse of the true art of poetry, something seen all too rarely on the Internet.

    Two, the voice of the speaker was clear, if but a faint whisper. The only true line that speaks clearly of him is: "All I want is to be left alone to read My books," yet the reader still gets a powerful picture of this man/woman from the other bits of description.

    Three, the piece was original. Period. Amidst all of the emo cutter poems and such, the fact that your poem is fresh gives you immediate bonus points.

    Overall, this poem was downright phenomenal. They say the mark of a good poem is that the reader might take a quote away with them from it, but the mark of a great poem is that the reader takes it and molds it to his own life, changing the way he looks at things forever, if but in the slightest degree. This is a great poem.

    +fav. Easily.

    | Posted on 2006-09-15 00:00:00 | by Tissue | [ Reply to This ]

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