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    dots Submission Name: Flashlight poetrydots

    Author: try_again
    ASL Info:    17/female/Canada
    Elite Ratio:    3.86 - 4/9/4
    Words: 297
    Class/Type: Poetry/Longing
    Total Views: 720
    Average Vote:    4.0000
    Bytes: 1919

       This is for the same boy.
    He happens to be 23.
    I happen to be not 23.
    It's a hopeless situation really, which kills me, because I'm not even trying to love him, but I do.

    This was written at 2:23 am, and I've made very few edits so far. Any suggestions are appreciated.

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

    dotsFlashlight poetrydots

    I think
    This is the second sequential night
    That I have not slept,
    And as mother's sleep-drunk murmured remedy,
    Microwaved milk, waits in a mug
    To slosh about and offers no appeasement,
    Irrational thoughts are in gridlock,
    Merging with reckless emotion
    Far less than fluidly.
    This is not a monster in my closet
    That mother can chase away by flashlight
    With gentle words and sercret potions,
    And this is not a calendar date
    That I can count up to, and away from.
    This kind of agonizing anticipation
    Snarls when the thoughts of you surface,
    While tiny red letters blink innocently- 2:23AM.
    The thoughts that arise are adolescent at worst;
    Perhaps even so caught up in rebellion
    That I can't yet acknowledge them
    As emotional government.
    You tumble through my day and get tangled in it,
    So that I can't sleep because of you,
    But it's dreams of you that feed me for the night.
    When I write for you spontaneously,
    The stanzas grow longer each time our eyes
    Lock for an instant, with a smile,
    But as I write flashlight poetry
    At 2:23AM
    And lament the imposition of morality
    And a logical, though unfavorable norm,
    It becomes painfully aparent
    That this is the second night in a sequence of many
    During which I will chew my pen and worry
    Over the fact that this time
    I am simply not in love with being in love,
    And that you are the same boy,
    Over and over.
    As it dawns on me, at 2:23AM
    That the rhythm of longing is
    A beat I will come to know intimately,
    I extinguish my flashlight,
    Flip over my notebook
    And quietly vow to this pen and these pages
    That I will not breathe a word of this to you.

    Submitted on 2007-09-06 20:10:47     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
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    ||| Comments |||
      Great... so I lost the other part of the comment that I had started... but I guess, since I do have about 3 hours I won't mind restarting.

    I think form is important when it comes to poetry. Why you may wonder? Well, like diction, it's a matter of not distracting the reader who's in the process of appreciating your work. By form, I do imply strophe structure, punctuation and line breaks - even though the last one kind of falls into the first... Examples of how it can help: Huge chunks of text seem heavy and tend to be read slowly, whereas smaller, lighter ones, tend to be read swiftly and easily. This can help you manipulate how quickly the reader will be absorbing your thoughts, changing the feeling. Something quick can be violent, or pleasant (kind of like Marry Poppins), whereas something slow can be serious (possibly culminating in it's seriousness) or orthodoxly sad. Line breaks can be used in the sense of putting emphasis on certain words, or in certain cases aide phonetically with rhymes. Punctuation is a dangerous toy, explosive when used properly but can have a very lurid effect if not used accordingly. So don't feel the need to place something like a comma at the end of each verse - in any sense, you can structure the poem to be composed of sentences like in prose when it comes to punctuation. You wouldn't see, a sentence written, in prose with a bunch of, commas just because. Would you?

    If you even want to go further, don't shy yourself from playing with metering - this can both be a tool of learning(synonyms can be useful when you need to tweak one or two meter counts) and one that will help you develop a methodical diction. Elsewise, it could just be for the fun of challenging yourself . You can place rhymes within the metering itself, have a -y sound every twelve syllables. Most people don't notice these kinds of things on the spot, but they are so pleasing orally that some may be left wondering why they like it. Just general things you could do, most of which you could be doing with this piece .

    I notice that the number 23 held an importance in your mind because of his age, but I didn't see that in this piece. You could've played with that as a theme, made the piece twenty-three verses long, chopped the stanzas into 23 counts of syllables.. you know .. little details that people won't notice but that you'll appreciate, that will add value to the concept.
    Verse 23:"So that I can't sleep because of you,"
    So is an ugly word in poetry, it can be hard to avoid sometimes, but most of the time you can. Oh my... I just noticed something, possibly unintentional: You have two verses that are short and isolated, I think, and, Over and over. See, that my friend is something beautiful, a little detail unrelated to the piece, but that out of context makes a new kind of sense.

    Reading your piece once again I see many words, cluster words, fallaciously wordy words. "Big" words are more practical because they are more precise, they allow you to dichotomize thoughts into two words for instance instead of whole lines. Hehehe, plus I love big words. Vespertine echolalia = (happening in the afternoon, like afternoon tea + disease causing a person to involuntarily repeat something that was just said, kind of like echoes in my mind). You see what I mean?

    Another thing, you say "have not" without using the retracted form, yet many times later on you use "can't"... Those kinds of inconsistency add chaos to the beauty of the piece, and though they are nit-picks, they are the things you look for in edits right?

    I personally enjoyed the ending, to say it was ingenious.
    "That the rhythm of longing is
    A beat I will come to know intimately,
    I extinguish my flashlight,
    Flip over my notebook
    And quietly vow to this pen and these pages
    That I will not breathe a word of this to you."
    Rhythm is a tool of poetry, the beating of a heart and the pace of life. Here you're talking about that of the heart, though I enjoy how you used intimately. You show in the next two lines that you share this rhythm with pen and paper, with light (which itself could be hope, but it's a flashlight, a sort of spontaneous hope on the spur of the moment.. It could be ).. and slowly you fold back on your initial statement of intimacy saying that it'll not be between you and him. I don't know why but the sentiment gives me an impression of nobility, not bourgeois like, but more or less boudoir. It's devilishly romantic.

    The ball is on your end of the court.

    | Posted on 2007-09-09 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ]
      absolutely breathtaking and something that we can all relate to while all the same being completely original

    as i believe i said before you have a spectacular talent that makes me long to even be close to the abilities you have

    each line is clever and pithy, without sounding too planned and versed so that it is coherent and lovely

    the way you write is very spiffy
    sleep-drunk murmured remedy is so very natural and pretty

    i love the term flashlight poetry, it makes me think of how i write at home, in the middle of the night, as quiet as i can, curled up in bed with my favorite stephen king wrapped around my notebook....

    | Posted on 2007-09-07 00:00:00 | by blu_kittin | [ Reply to This ]
      Well... Honestly, I feel like I shouldn't post anything at all because ... I loved it all and I have no complaints. I haven't written poetry in so long I kind of feel like I've forgotten how to do it - but reading is what I can do until I find my words. And I am so glad I read this. This is... Everything.
    I connected with this more than I would have liked to - more than I like to admit to - and I love that I feel like I wrote it because... I felt it.

    (And yet as I say this to you, I feel like a psycho :P)...But yeah...


    Sorry I can't offer any help...whatsoever.
    | Posted on 2007-09-06 00:00:00 | by stefhy | [ Reply to This ]

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