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    dots Submission Name: The Cliche Story of Loversdots

    Author: Draigon
    ASL Info:    25/m/Al
    Elite Ratio:    4.25 - 164/196/91
    Words: 401
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 930
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2788


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

    dotsThe Cliche Story of Loversdots

    The performers dance about,
    decaying black roses fall around them.
    The maiden begins her soft tune,
    a tune of melancholy.

    The dancers dance with their grace,
    as the maiden sings.
    Their movements some how
    seem to be filled with sorrow,
    and a sense of malicious intent.

    The pianist plays amongst the chaos,
    his part just as important as all the others.
    His cunning fingers move with percise,
    and passionate steps.

    The maiden continues to sing,
    telling the story of a man and a woman,
    and their imperfections.

    The man's story made him out to be the angel,
    and his lover to be the fallen one.
    In his tell, she stole into the night,
    and raped men of their lust.
    Then she left them satiated,
    for at least another night.

    The woman's tell was much the same,
    her beloved went on his "buisness trips",
    and conducted buisness with madams.
    Work was steady for him,
    and he enjoyed it.

    Both stories were true,
    but both was guilty of adultary.
    One blamed the other,
    and the other blamed the one.
    That's how these things usually go.

    As the maiden sings though,
    she puts feeling in their stories.
    Sorrow and anguish feel the atmosphere.
    Twas a cliché story turned epic.

    As the stories of the criminals came to a close,
    everyone in the audience was captivated,
    captivated by the emotion
    they beheld this night.
    Never had they thought they would enjoy it so,
    since this is how these things usually go.

    Closure brought an uproar of applause,
    the dancers, and the pianist took their leave,
    but the woman stayed behind.
    Tears wet her cheeks,
    as she thought of her imperfections.
    Finally as she regained reality,
    she fled from the stage.

    She stole out into the night,
    and never was seen again.
    Only rumors passed amongst the men,
    as the they drank at their taverns
    whispered of her life,
    and of her story.

    As for the man,
    he continued to conduct his buisness,
    and captivated another permanent beauty.
    But still had his side jobs here and there.

    Neither man nor woman never changed,
    their stories always remained the same.
    Adultary was their profession,
    neither felt love for another.

    Thus their stories end in tragedy,
    they died alone and in the dark.
    Without love or care,
    but their stories still live on today.

    Submitted on 2007-03-22 05:55:13     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Nice poem. It actually kept me from fidgeting for about 4 minutes. That's pretty good work. =P
    | Posted on 2007-05-06 00:00:00 | by Ghilanibee | [ Reply to This ]
      Nice poem I like it, very visual and imaginative. I like how it feels like you put your emotions towards the poem and how I felt it and if that is what you were coming across then you did it keep up the good work peace & stay safe...
    | Posted on 2007-03-25 00:00:00 | by Cordell | [ Reply to This ]
      hey I like this lots!!!! yeha i likee how you told they story within the poem...if thatmakes sence?. yeah I kinda wanted it to keep going. yeah....but Good write!!!

    | Posted on 2007-03-23 00:00:00 | by koolness | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey sleeping beauty, i finally got around to reading this today, im very inspired.
    This is wonderful, it shows both sides of a relationship, that man and the woman, this is great, i love the rhyme throughout this.
    Well i well can't think of anything else, but if i do you will be the frist to know.
    Peace out.
    | Posted on 2007-03-22 00:00:00 | by WonderfulComa | [ Reply to This ]
      Draigon, I think you have the beginnings of a really fine piece here. The first almost full 6 stanzas are really great... very theatrical, very poetic, very crafted and artistic even. Then, as that bit of theatre ends, the language changes... it becomes more mundane... more real world... and that is also in keeping with the movement of the poem. It is fitting. Then, somewhere in the tenth stanza, that poetic feeling starts to come back... the theatre, the myth, the poetry, but the form, for some reason, seems to hold that back, too keep it from truly becoming and giving the poem its... meaning, I guess. I would suggest trying to work a bit more with your end game... see if you can't bring the elegance of form and content and language back into play a bit more.
    | Posted on 2007-03-22 00:00:00 | by DavidHirt | [ Reply to This ]

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