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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Rhythm of the Saintsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    57/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2777/1297/258
    Words: 116
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 646
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 687



    Description:
       A four year old sonnet.


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

    dotsThe Rhythm of the Saintsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I disowned these words as they were written
    for beauty is the mind, and mine remains
    sifted with a stick, an empire smitten
    withered in the wind and stars and rain
    blood begs at the door but never enters
    heaven's domicile, and each sweet grace
    frozen in a fury of debts remembered
    pooled a pretty tear and called it fate
    sing the holy songs but sing them softly
    pile up the stars, the cup is drained
    down each eager throat, affirming hotly
    praising every plague as yet unnamed
    poets turn a phrase with which they're smitten
    I disown the words-but still they're written




    Submitted on 2007-04-05 19:12:40     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      i disown the words when they're written...

    somehow it reminds me of Mozart when he talked about how he wrote music. he said that suddenly the whole symphony would appear before him just as an apple would in the palm of his hand. an apple... an apple couldn't be really mozart's - he couldn't create it - he just 'saw' or 'heard' the music, which isn't really his own.

    just as the words you write down are not yours. and you admit it by depicting what you consider to be 'your own' -

    sifted with a stick, an empire smitten
    withered in the wind and stars and rain
    blood begs at the door but never enters
    heaven's domicile .



    it is also said that everything in this world is already invented - you just have to catch it - which make writers and composers and everyone else no more and no less than mediums of different sensitivity....

    which brings us back to the title, which i find amazing - 'the rhythm of the saints' - the frequency, which propels you towards seeing an apple in the palm of your hand.

    i liked this because it sheds light on the nature of your creativity and creativity in general. the way it works.

    i like this because it so willingly corelates with everything i've read so far - particularly with my favourite russian writers, such as pasternak or nabokov, who depicted inspiration as a 'roaring all-smiting current'.
    | Posted on 2007-07-16 00:00:00 | by expiring_touch | [ Reply to This ]
      it seems as though there are two parts to this. the first being an age-old memory or a specific time in history, possibly the early church or an empire - byzantine?

    anyhow, the poet, the saint/ martyre, the prophet disowns their words, I suppose in a sense by doing so is what makes them sacred.

    Take care,
    Sarah
    | Posted on 2007-04-09 00:00:00 | by vohomegirl | [ Reply to This ]
      Mmmm, the classic sonnet. A real one that isn't about some dumb angst bull[censored]. I haven't seen one of these in a long, long time. This one just sort of floored me. I didn't expect it to be as good as it was. (I've been choosy today, though; I got so tired of reading bad ones that I've been sniff-searching for ones that seem superior, so I don't feel like the day has been wasted, eh?)

    First the title caught me, and then the word usage. But what snagged me was the fact you were using sonnet style to convey the title that -already- makes me think of classic era upon first glance. I guess you could say that it fits. Not simply the style, but how it was executed. Beautifully simplistic with just enough complexity to keep one occupied and thinking.

    I hope many more people comment on this piece. Great job.
    | Posted on 2007-04-05 00:00:00 | by UnderINK | [ Reply to This ]


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