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    dots Submission Name: creativitydots

    Author: austin
    ASL Info:    22/ Male/ Odessa, Texas
    Elite Ratio:    4.41 - 376/396/84
    Words: 147
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 742
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1015


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


    loss of words clutter the mind
    of unthinkble horrors, hanging near
    on the edge f something deep
    but the vastness is deceiving
    scrambled parameters, all but lost
    makes finding safety, harder yet

    A single tear stood for the right things
    has now dried and turned to stone
    insecurities flailing to a darkened space
    where permeable things are admitted

    Crossed lines have been passed
    In a way more than disgusted
    and as your visions near,
    do you find them satisfying?
    and is your mind fully quenched of the thirst
    of everything that you've ever lusted?

    You've clouded the meaning, thrown it astray
    and searched for anything, to pin on the blame
    not knowing or caring of whom it could be
    struggle to see, what you'll never become
    grown tired of one's self, so try to change
    too many times discouraged, of what has remained.

    Submitted on 2007-09-29 10:57:14     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      of [unthinkble] horrors, hanging near = unthinkable

    on the edge [f] something deep = of?

    this piece feels tired.
    tired of listening to excuses and of finding explanations for the way things are... for the way things arent the way they should have been

    sometimes its never enough.
    lusts cannot be fulfilled because theyre always growing or mutating... im sure of it.

    it interests me how this piece starts off quite vague. it doesnt mention an object to which this piece is directed but then slowly 'you' creeps in until at the end is you You YOU! in some ways...

    i think youve done really well here...
    | Posted on 2007-10-27 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
      I was watching Science of Sleep the other day and I remember this conversation between two of the characters: one of them wants to be an artist and the other one said, "I'm not a creative person like you. I don't feel the need to leave something behind."

    This is what your piece reminded me of.

    Sometimes, it's just maddening, isn't it? To be lost in what could've been a gift just because we want to squeeze everything we can from it. It's funny because when it comes to things like writing, when you do it just for the sake of pleasuring your self or indulging an itch that needs scratching, it's the easiest thing. But when it comes across as something that matters, a job, a point to prove - it becomes so hard that you start hating it. It's sad.

    And what about curiousity... it's such a double edge instrument that is just impossible to control. That to one great force of human nature that could lead to development or demise.

    I like the feel of your poem. It has a strongly beautiful sense of negativity and an almost stoned or tired voice. And it reaches out with this seemingly foreboding manner to translate a richness that is definately worth writing about.
    | Posted on 2007-09-29 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ]

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