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    dots Submission Name: Beautydots

    Author: Lisa Milligan
    ASL Info:    48/F/VA
    Elite Ratio:    3.71 - 38/47/21
    Words: 333
    Class/Type: Poetry/The pain inside
    Total Views: 741
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2183


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    Running as fast as I can
    heart pounding
    I can feel his wings beating
    by the wind swirling around me
    my lynx instincts are alive
    as I try to escape this hungry bird
    but Iím no match for his cunning
    speed or strength

    My breath rasping and out of energy
    I know Iíve lost this race
    as his claws slice through my body
    I am his to devour
    wide watchful eyes peer
    through leaves and branches
    at the raptor who tears me apart
    with wild abandon

    They watch as his razor sharp beak
    pierces my chest and rips out my heart
    tearing it to pieces between beak and talons
    only to drop it on the ground

    Watchful hidden eyes stare at the bird
    as he takes to the sky with his prize
    carrying whatís left of me away
    gripped in talons to his feeding place
    and they gaze at my heart in tatters on the ground

    Spring turns to Summer
    days of blistering heat that dry everything
    turning my heart into dust
    that disintegrates into the soil
    Summer turns to Autumn
    this place of dying lies buried
    under brightly colored layers

    Next comes Winter
    with its punishing winds
    and blankets of snow
    freezing the ground
    hardening the tiny pieces
    of my heart

    The raptor continues
    his never ending lust for the hunt
    year in and year out
    though now he's after much younger
    more tender prey
    completely oblivious that
    a gentle sparrow dropped seeds
    that got stuck to his tiny feet
    as he fed amongst the grass and violets
    and landed where I died

    But in the pounding rain
    these seeds sank into the ground
    and were fertilized by the shredded remains
    of my unwanted heart torn apart
    so that one warm sunny day
    slowly through the lush green grass
    beautiful deep purple violets burst forth
    that sway gently in the wind
    making beauty out of devastation

    Submitted on 2007-08-05 07:22:02     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      The story of this wounding and death of romance had some great imagery and clever use of the hunt. The use of the "I" perspective gave it an odd feel. It would have been a better read if it had been written in the third person past-tense.

    Nonetheless, it was interesting and held my attention until the end.

    The Gadfly
    | Posted on 2007-08-07 00:00:00 | by The Gadfly | [ Reply to This ]
      Well I understood the metaphor between the predator and prey. It wasn't subtle, but it wasn't so out there that you had to wrack your brain to find out what was going on. I smiled at the end, 'Beauty out of devastation" I would have never thought about it that way. I suppose the only unclear thing is why the predator targeted you (although I could guess) it reminds me of a movie actually, in a way, just at the one part where you mentioned the predator moving on to younger specimens. There is a movie about that very theory. I suppose it made me feel sad, sad for the heart, but I understood, that's what predators do, they are what they are. Some of us are meant to be prey. But in the same respect, it was a horrible way to end it, with death. But great things are gained with death, like violets. The lack of puncuation threw me off somewhat, but that's my own fault.

    Good luck on your next piece.
    | Posted on 2007-08-05 00:00:00 | by Karios | [ Reply to This ]

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