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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Squelettes Sont Beauxdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: ACircuitShock
    ASL Info:    18/M/WA
    Elite Ratio:    3.53 - 221/243/40
    Words: 330
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1535
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2171



    Description:
       Hmmm...another one of my poems that has a french title. This one means "Skeletons Are Beautiful". After you read this I hope you get the meaning because otherwise it could make me look just a little crazy...OK really crazy. I welcome everyones input. Tell me what you think!


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    dotsSquelettes Sont Beauxdots
    -------------------------------------------


    To snag the flesh upon the bone;
    The knuckle brings the hand
    To lay upon this rotten shelf.

    Fingertips massaging stone;
    The crevices remind me
    Of the cracks in your skull.

    Ancient tomes of lost unknown;
    A thin layer of dust
    Serves as a veil for these inscriptions.
    They shelter the sacred
    From prying eyes
    And keep away the unwanted,
    Or the wanton.
    To open the pages
    Is to peel back the flesh,
    Reveal the naked, pale
    White fragility inside.
    And all these words
    Are the innards of a mind,
    Lost, yes,
    But not gone entirely.

    These bones are so alone;
    You remind me of this collection,
    This compendium of knowledge
    Kept safe for their worth.
    You try to keep
    Your appearance strong,
    Harden your binding
    And lock your arms.
    But if one was to open,
    Peel back your flesh
    And look inside,
    The pages would not prevail.
    They would rot and turn to dust
    Simply to keep the viewers out,
    Simply to protect
    What cannot be protected.
    Simply to save your own skin.

    Can't you see
    I don't care about the flesh?
    It is the bones I worry about.
    The simple
    And beautiful structure
    That you keep inside yourself
    For none to see.
    That is what I wish to see.
    The knowledge that you keep
    What is truly you away from me
    Is an insult to my love.
    Can't you tell
    I only wish to look past this charade?
    Playing keep up and make up
    Only lasts for a short time.
    So please let me read
    Let me read you.
    Let me open your cabinets,
    Peel back this plastic flesh.
    Let me read the books
    And weep when I do.

    No matter how you harden your skin,
    Now matter how you look in the mirror,
    No matter how you say it,
    No matter how you lie,
    The bones will always look the same.

    And skeletons are beautiful.




    Submitted on 2004-05-27 18:30:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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




    ||| Comments |||
      thanx fo the knocks on skeletons it is one of my favorites as it is me as a kid then at my age now telling the everyone that nos me to f,,, off
    and run anyway took your advice on you poem i liked it i am glad you told me cause my only language is english fo now
    great wite and geat read thanx again
    sandman
    | Posted on 2005-05-03 00:00:00 | by sandman | [ Reply to This ]
      awesome. I loved the analogy... i didn't get it for a bit, but then it all became clear. I don't think the last line was needed, though. Also, skeletons doesn't need the apostrophe.......... just so you know ~.^ I think it would be more powerful without the last line. "The bones will look the same."... very powerful ending. ~Cora
    | Posted on 2004-05-27 00:00:00 | by Cora Windover | [ Reply to This ]
      There's a romantic and creepy feeling to that text, and you switch the direction very well between the two, just like peeling off her 'plastic flesh'. Good work mate.
    | Posted on 2004-05-27 00:00:00 | by the apocrypha | [ Reply to This ]
      Neat. I never really gave much thought to this on any kind of a deeper level. this poem made me think. it really fits well, the idea of a skelleton as the basic structure, the truth and what not. even if you hide it it's there. great job!
    Star
    | Posted on 2004-06-01 00:00:00 | by shootingstar | [ Reply to This ]
      I've been sent to look at this after writing a poem called Go Radio... I see that we both touch the same subject but insuch a different manner, as I was told!

    I agree with Sandburg on his choice of choice lines....

    "It is the bones I worry about.
    The simple
    And beautiful structure
    That you keep inside yourself
    For none to see."

    I like those too... and yes, it is the core, the makeup, the very fibre of your One that you want to see...
    Nice one, mate!
    Lea
    | Posted on 2004-05-29 00:00:00 | by Learah | [ Reply to This ]
      Gothic language to dress a renaissance idea - yes the inner self is the key and you've illustrated this well here.
    It reeks of desperation too and I like that...
    K
    | Posted on 2004-05-30 00:00:00 | by Awkward | [ Reply to This ]


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