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    dots Submission Name: buzzard wake up calldots

    Author: Kristen Gudsnuk
    ASL Info:    21/f/CT
    Elite Ratio:    5.62 - 182/229/86
    Words: 195
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 1070
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1224

       this all came out in a flurry, it's just stream of consciousness worrying about the tangled mess that is my life. God I want this whole year to just end, and for summer to end, and next year too.
    uurrgh. I only write poems when I'm really depressed.

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

    dotsbuzzard wake up calldots

    my snowboots sideways by the door
    crust of dried sleet-muck
    doilying upward from the soles

    I heard a song when I was asleep
    and now it's snagged in my head
    a kite in a tree
    although I can't remember

    and now the studying I've done
    should come in hand, pen in hand
    the page is full of meaningless words
    like wet sand,
    glooping away slowly
    or drying on my palm,
    to be stolen by the wind

    and even though I bragged that I
    never worry, life for me
    is a suncoast dream of fizzy light
    and rollerskates down a slight slope
    even though I painted this
    and tried to draw myself in too,
    it's a lie, just a lie.

    I worry more than I can say and
    the only way to keep it at bay
    is to snap my fingers, shake my leg
    and think of something else instead

    I wish a buzzard would scream in my ear
    at least I'd know I'm not alone
    In this gorgeous tropicana desert wasteland

    Instead I'm dangling-
    I'd rather fall
    than never meet the ground at all.

    Submitted on 2007-03-01 00:43:04     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      kite in a tree, stuck, alone
    wind cannot release it
    no person walks by to see it there
    streets are sidewalk, cement, hard
    covered in a light layer of dust and sand
    thou art not trying to draw up a good life
    thou art wallowing in the desert
    wishing for a buzzard wake up call?

    thou must struggle up the mountain of despair, and reach the top, no matter how lame your legs of hopelessness may feel
    and see the sun breaking free of golden chains of birth

    waking up is yet to come


    a wonderful poem. I think buzzards are very noisy. But they won't wake me up.
    Keep up the good work!

    | Posted on 2007-03-01 00:00:00 | by manwithnoname | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey Kristen!

    This is quite bleak sounding, and imagery you employ reinforces that superbly (ex. first strophe). The third stanza sounds pretty fet up with school, and sure has a lot of "-and" in it. I like the first two repititions of hand, but the rhyme with sand is so, rapid? I don't know.

    And it would appear your not as phlagmatic as you let on. I know someone like that, who pretends everything is okay, but inside is either freaking out of fuming. Sometimes that's me, actually lol

    I don't really like the fifth stanza (how mean of me to say!). The rhyming feels a bit trite, and I think it's too telling after the stanza before. I think the last line of the fourth stanza is sufficient, especially since it nullifies and kind of makes opposite all the happy carefreeness that comes before "it's a lie, just a lie." If that makes sense.

    I love "gorgeous tropicana desert wasteland," especially considering you're in blustery DC. And I also love the last stanza.

    Bleak bleak bleak. Don't be bleak Kristen! Smile a big smile, drink hot chocolate, dance to some groovy music, and be anti-bleak~

    Good write!
    | Posted on 2007-03-01 00:00:00 | by wool raincoat | [ Reply to This ]

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    January 10 07
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