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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Letters From Ozdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    57/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2777/1297/258
    Words: 340
    Class/Type: Prose/Misc
    Total Views: 883
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2097



    Description:
       ~for Lady Jay~

    ~this may be read interchangeably, in reverse order, sideways or as the square root of eleven - bon apetit~


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

    dotsLetters From Ozdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Letters From Oz

    Hello, doc.

    I wish we’d broken bread or shared a joke or…something other than this. But I always do what comes next, you know?

    I wish…

    My car is my armor, my skin, my flesh. I…honestly…I love spiraling into hell – and escaping, it’s fun…but I won’t involve anyone else in this race…not again.

    I’m sorry, doc …for taking her from us. But – this seems like such a soap opera – I can’t stop. I’m hollow unless there’s adrenaline involved. What is beautiful, after all?

    Doc, why do I hate myself for loving this? I need rage but I need something more and happiness is so…sedate…lobotomized…castrated…overrated…

    Heaven is hell, doc. I’m sorry, you won’t convert me. My soul is steel.

    I’ve heard the hardest thing for a minister to do is come down from a high gracefully.

    Is that true? Is grief angelic?

    And is happiness that hard to surrender?

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    So, you’re still spinning those low profiles like a rodent on a concrete treadmill?

    Not surprising. You’re one of the few people I’ve met that claim to live for and hate attention. A truly tortured artiste, I imagine.

    I don’t think she believed ‘inspiration’ involved becoming a bright smear on the highway.

    She was the painter, not you. But her brush never moved at 160 mph. And the colors were delicate, soft…

    I miss her.

    So, do you still paint the air with blocks of color in high cubist style? Does the world whirl around you like chopper blades droning before battle? I believe you’re most sorry when you’re still and the demons are close. Movement is grace for you, and shunning hell and kissing angels can only be done at speed.

    Matching speeds, at least.

    When I feel anything, I pity you. And then I feel nothing at all.

    When you arrive in hell I’ll tell you more.

    Enjoy the ride.




    Submitted on 2007-10-19 21:01:08     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Doc, why do I hate myself for loving this? I need rage but I need something more and happiness is so…sedate…lobotomized…castrated…overrated…

    Heaven is hell, doc. I’m sorry, you won’t convert me. My soul is steel.



    yes, truly, heaven is the cruelest of places. this is odd because parts of it reminds of your previous piece. where you talk about hell being paralysis in motion, although this is an interesting juxtaposition... things happen much faster and instantaneously here, and is in the form of correspondences . and happiness, artistry, human foibles and hell- something that is touched upon in the dialog driven "magic". oz and magic.. interesting. i dont think i have much to add except that the two pieces bear striking similarities and is completely your own genre. it is totally yours.
    | Posted on 2007-10-25 00:00:00 | by Pietro | [ Reply to This ]
      gah!
    there are a million lines that i swear are mine or perhaps you have walked this last 8 months and were especially present the day i came off my bike and have swiped the lines from the air while the nice lady was waiting beside me trying to comfort me with ideas of ambulances even though i was ready to get up and walk to work...


    I wish we’d broken bread or shared a joke or…something other than this. But I always do what comes next, you know?

    this is an awesome line... im more than keen to test it out on my doctor when i go in there for a medical certificate next...
    while i was in and out of the fracture clinic listening to their reassuring 'oh collarbones always heal... we only operate on every one in 500 or something' i knew it wasnt gonna fix... i knew i was a girl with a freak of a collarbone and well... now all i can do is smile and say "hey bill... my collarbone is real hip" haha



    I…honestly…I love spiraling into hell –

    realising im reading too much into it [but you know thats the way i am wired] i just have to say that if it wasnt for the falling off and breaking/pain bit at the end the whole fish tailing out of control over the road thing is totally awesome and id recommend it to anyone



    What is beautiful, after all?

    perhaps collarbone scars...? maybe not...
    depends who you ask. dont ask me...



    happiness is so…sedate…lobotomized…castrated…overrated…

    this is the most interesting portrayal of happiness ive ever read. EVER. happiness = labotomy...
    we have a woman here in my country who was hours away from a labotomy because she was thought to be crazy but someone arrived with a message that her poetry had been published so they decided against the labotomy and she became NZ famous... not sure if she made it to the rest of the world. i never met her though incidentally i nursed her sister in the resthome and she was just as eccentric as her sister was sposed to have been...



    don’t think she believed ‘inspiration’ involved becoming a bright smear on the highway.

    She was the painter, not you. But her brush never moved at 160 mph. And the colors were delicate, soft…

    makes her sound like inspired road kill...


    this is quite an interesting piece bill.
    obviously i have made links and connections that wont even make sense to you [the mention of demons makes me think of The Crusty Demons who are stunt ppl who were in town the week before i came off my bike and so when a guy wrote me a card he was like "girl! the crustys left town last week! they shoulda stuck round and watched your stunt to get ideas for their nexct show" ] but i really enjoyed reading it.
    | Posted on 2007-10-20 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
      Hi Bill,

    Ha.. I loved your "rodent on a concrete treadmill" line. "Letters from OZ" first made me think of that old HBO series called OZ, about life in prison. That's not so far off the mark, I don't think. It reads almost like a guy talking to himself. Or like his devil on one shoulder talking to his angel on the other. Multiple personality disorder, maybe?

    annie
    | Posted on 2007-10-20 00:00:00 | by annie0888 | [ Reply to This ]


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