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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Saltdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: drowning_queen
    Elite Ratio:    5.44 - 245/270/52
    Words: 477
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1507
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3020



    Description:
       A triptych I wrote to perform at a poetry reading next week. Any suggestions, comments, criticisms would be much appreciated.

    Thanks.

    *revised 2/12/07*


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

    dotsSaltdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I.

    It was March and
    the crocuses were sprouting,
    small blossoms dotted the fields
    around our house with
    tiny blips of color.

    They grew suddenly while we slept.

    I woke first and walked barefoot
    down to the kitchen,
    out through the side door to the yard;
    I ripped the seedlings up with
    sleep-numb hands and
    poured a can of Morton’s salt
    upon the soil.

    Barren,
    we greet the morning together.


    II.

    So I’m sitting at the bar,
    Having a beer or two after work
    And I see this broad,
    Real nice looking bird,
    A couple seats down from me
    And she’s got one of those fancy drinks
    With the salt around the rim and the little umbrella
    You know the type,
    Had this brown dress on,
    With these wilted flowers all over it-- hideous really
    So I’m just leaning back against the bar,
    Checking her out,
    And she turns a bit so I can see her face

    She’s just kinda looking into her drink
    Like the whole damn world is in that cup, right
    Hasn’t noticed me checking her out yet,
    So I keep real cool like
    Just glancing over every few ticks
    Getting ready to tip my beer or
    Drop a napkin—
    Get a closer look, if you know what I mean

    When all smooth like she picks up the glass
    And puts it to her mouth,
    Likes she’s gonna take a sip, right
    But she doesn’t
    She just sorta holds it there
    Rubs a little, you know
    Like she’s putting on lipstick
    Just rubs it against her lips

    And I lean closer without meaning to
    Like this broad rubbing salt
    On her lips is some kind of magnet
    And I see her eyes are closed
    And she’s shaking a little,
    Like she’s cold
    Or maybe excited
    And she tilts her head back a little
    Just enough so I can see her lips better
    And they’re all split up,
    Like she’s been out too long in winter
    But it’s August for God’s sake

    And this broad’s lips are all cut up
    And she’s rubbing salt in them and shuddering
    And I can’t stop watching.

    III.

    They take me down to that
    December-dark shoreline
    The tall grasses and sea reeds
    have long since given way to cold
    I’m watching as clouds swallow
    the pregnant moon and
    I wonder what it would be like
    To give birth to reflected light
    Once a month for five billion years

    Perhaps if I lay here long enough
    I will be scarred and tunneled
    The salt will carve me into a planet
    A pale, little sister for the moon
    I’ll orbit her like a doting sibling
    And she will have something new
    To bounce her light off




    Submitted on 2007-02-09 14:10:29     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      this is amazing, i really love it, i've never seen a braided essay done without prose, it'd quite amazing. the difference of your styles between the first and second is quite stark, i acutally enjoy it, but perhaps you could maintain a simlarly jarring difference in the third? what i mean to say is the first and third have a similar tone, either make then unanimous or completely seperate. which will be pretty hard considering both are so beautiful as they are but that's my critque. amazing, really.
    | Posted on 2007-09-16 00:00:00 | by speaksoftly | [ Reply to This ]
      *rereads* oooh. Got the salt reference now. Why Salt though?
    | Posted on 2007-04-13 00:00:00 | by Waywarddaughter | [ Reply to This ]
      I would just like to say I really felt this piece. Maybe because spring is here and I am longing for crocuses. You got me on those lines. The rest of the poem pulled me in and entranced me, all with the common theme of salt. The final part does seem a little detached from the first two though...there is no mention of salt. ?
    | Posted on 2007-03-28 00:00:00 | by Waywarddaughter | [ Reply to This ]
      I like the last part the best, giving the moon a sister to bounce light off of. Good stuff, Kris. The second one seemed like the girl you were watching was some sort of masochist, and it sort of hit hard with me, because I thought that was a hard subject, having following the first one. Again, the third one I loved, but it was all really good. Sounds like it would be a great read. Awesome work.
    Be blessed,
    ~Azura*
    | Posted on 2007-02-09 00:00:00 | by EmpathicAya | [ Reply to This ]
      P.S. I think you should submit the second one as a standalone to The Sun. It's their kind of material and they pay well.
    | Posted on 2007-02-09 00:00:00 | by Melora | [ Reply to This ]
      This is just lovely. I'm not familiar with the style, but...it was interesting. However, the only part that really stood out to me was the second, about the woman rubbing salt into her lips. That just struck me. It's a good concept, though. Faving this on the strength of the second part.

    melora
    | Posted on 2007-02-09 00:00:00 | by Melora | [ Reply to This ]
      I woke, walked barefoot
    down to the kitchen,

    I think having "I woke first" seems a bit redundant so I offered this suggestion as a means of tightening it up, making it more... active I suppose, more 'in the moment'.

    With this poem, it makes me question why you would pour salt on the soil, as it's well-known to destroy plant-life in general. As a literal meaning, I take it to be some form of weird gardening... weeding, if you will lol. On a metaphoric level, the death of a relationship perhaps, as evidenced by your second poem.

    In regards to this, the language in your first poem is quite... lazy I guess, but then, your second is so different... it's very beat-like "yea ya know" almost English pub-like in expression. What I'm getting at is the fact the middle voice is so different from your first and third, and doesn't seem to fit, even though it's tied all together by the common subject of salt.

    The transition to your third jars because of your second being so different. I guess I'd like to see your first and third together somehow, further defined with something in the middle to tie it together, and your second by itself, perhaps further fleshed out or left as it is.

    Tell me how your reading goes... I'm guest speaker again on the 20th of Feb and I've yet to decide which ones I want to read a;ldfj;klafjdkljfkls lol. Such a damn hassle... I don't really like getting up and reading my stuff out if you really must know.

    But I'm digressing. Great pieces, but too disconnected in the two main 'voices' I hear.

    Peace,

    Jase
    | Posted on 2007-02-09 00:00:00 | by alteredlife | [ Reply to This ]


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