Writingpoetry

[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

dotsdots
nav
  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav



    nav
  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav



    << | >>
    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Christmas Miracledots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: annie0888
    ASL Info:    49/f/LA
    Elite Ratio:    4.76 - 327/382/122
    Words: 427
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 902
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2641



    Description:
       


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

    dotsChristmas Miracledots
    -------------------------------------------


    Last Christmas I made a deal with Jesus
    while my toddler son wheezed in fevered sleep

    “Look,” I said to Jesus, “If you’ll help me unravel this enormous knotted
    ball of twinkle lights, which will be no small miracle in itself –

    and if they all light up, and if I don’t have to fight my way
    through the mall or Wal-Mart for new ones tonight,

    I’ll take you at your word, go to church, and believe.”
    Jesus didn’t answer;

    all I heard were labored gasps and the dehumidifier’s hum –
    but that didn’t mean he wasn’t listening.

    So I sat on the couch and began untangling through a Law and Order rerun
    in which some sick freak has locked a little girl inside a wire dog crate

    in an abandoned warehouse. No one but the freak knows her whereabouts
    except the other victims leashed and collared in neighboring cages,

    and they aren’t talking, since they’re already dead from dehydration.
    I mindlessly weave colored lights in reverse

    and pray to the Jesus I don’t yet believe in
    that Mariska Hargitay can use signals between her cell phone and the tower

    to triangulate the location of the cage and the killer before it’s too late.
    She has a baby of her own now, according to People

    which explains her she-bear mothering instinct.
    The tiny glass bulbs click together as I unravel,

    numbly threading cords over and under.
    I yell to Mariska, “Go downstairs! Check the basement!”

    She doesn’t look up, but I know she hears me.
    I finger the green vinyled cables unconciously.

    With an adrenaline charge Mariska kicks her
    shiny black Ferragamo through the locked door,

    sprints to the cage, and tries, through the steel, to revive the unmoving child.
    Her silent partner chops at the lock with giant bolt cutters.
    Other cops, looking on, inquire bravely, “Is she dead?”
    The child, looking stringy and stiff and ragged

    opens her eyes and smiles weakly, “I knew you’d come,”
    As the EMT plucks the child, now wrapped in her rescuer’s coat,

    from an officer’s arms, Mariska whispers,
    “She’s not dead. She was only asleep.”

    By this time my son’s wheezing has steadied to a gentle snore,
    and my long string of lights is looped neatly

    across the coffee table like ribbon candy.
    Nothing’s left to do but cross my fingers and plug it in.




    Submitted on 2007-11-22 19:32:19     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      i like this a lot, it's a really good start. think there's a little too much about the l & o episode here - i'd like more about you. think you should continue this. i'd like to know the end of this story.
    | Posted on 2008-01-13 00:00:00 | by joeyalphabet | [ Reply to This ]
      So I sat on the couch and began untangling through a Law and Order rerun
    in which some sick freak has locked a little girl inside a wire dog crate

    in an abandoned warehouse. No one but the freak knows her whereabouts
    except the other victims leashed and collared in neighboring cages,

    and they aren’t talking, since they’re already dead from dehydration.
    I mindlessly weave colored lights in reverse

    and pray to the Jesus I don’t yet believe in
    that Mariska Hargitay can use signals between her cell phone and the tower

    to triangulate the location of the cage and the killer before it’s too late.




    Every generation needs a new parable to embrace...and every cynical or skeptical heart can find the vision of God in the mundane if that's what they choose to see. It's almost as easy as choosing not to see any good in anything to confirm 'there can be no God' because He hasn't forcibly delivered us from our suffering. This is a nice variation on the working class gospel so many people fail to apply to reality. I often wonder what the state of the world might be if God were as skeptical of us as we were of Him.

    Nicely done
    Bill
    | Posted on 2007-11-22 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]


    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?



    153398

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


    Google
     


    poetry

    dotsLogindots

    User Name:

    Password:

    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]


    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
    Posted

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]



    FontSize:
    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]
     Poetry