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    dots Submission Name: Oil and Vinegardots

    Author: DeadGod
    ASL Info:    20/M/OR
    Elite Ratio:    3.22 - 61/103/31
    Words: 201
    Class/Type: Poetry/Longing
    Total Views: 785
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 1182


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    dotsOil and Vinegardots

    A Monday mourning: coffee stains
    these weary tools of flesh and skin;
    The oily drops of work wherein
    I feel myself at loss again.
    And as you wake, do you recall
    your dreams before this living starts?
    The oily stains of teardrops; all
    the broken lines of broken hearts.

    With every look away, I find
    the meaning in my thoughts obscured.
    My ego fades with every word-
    my vision blurred; my passion blind.
    But if I wax infinitive
    we'll always never understand;
    Precautions wane diminutive
    yet fuel the care that stays my hand.

    If comfort were this oily plate,
    like vinegar, I'll run away.
    But if you asked that I should stay,
    I'd walk with you 'til doubts abate.
    The outcome of a struggle's just
    the creaking of it's moving parts;
    But every tired machine will rust
    and seek the oil of waiting hearts.

    ------Padraig C. Nolan,8/27/07

    Submitted on 2007-12-20 22:56:03     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      It's such a melancholy poem of meaningless life until your last stanzas--my favorites--
    "The outcome of a struggle's just
    the creaking of it's moving parts
    but every tired machine will rust
    and seek the oil of waiting hearts."

    :) This is my favorite stanza...it's beautiful. Unfortunately, if you hate sappy compliments like most people, or fortunately, if your ecstatic to get any comment at all, I can find nothing criticizing to say after scrutinizing the entire thing, and all in all, fantastic write.
    | Posted on 2007-12-22 00:00:00 | by dancer-of-words | [ Reply to This ]

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    January 10 07
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