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    dots Submission Name: Nostalgia of Rocks ( revised)dots

    Author: annie0888
    ASL Info:    49/f/LA
    Elite Ratio:    4.76 - 327/382/122
    Words: 110
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1480
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 723


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

    dotsNostalgia of Rocks ( revised)dots

    We stones remember being lava.
    Remember when we were liquid hot
    and glowed orange. Other rocks
    sat in rubbling heaps nearby
    warming themselves on our molten grace
    content to be consoled by ancient dreams
    in which they too, flowed.
    We stones recall the raptors
    who prowled and scrapped and danced
    between the branches of our viscous rivers
    before leaving bones behind.
    Mountains trembled at our passionate intensity,
    who could hold such radiant streams?
    Crusted now and cooled to gray,
    pressed into flinty solidity,
    we squat steadfast in the gritty pile,
    we hold a fiery spark inside.

    Submitted on 2008-01-08 06:07:17     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      i'm from the 60's...was going to school at SIU in the late 60's...it was so different back then...sometimes, most of the time i fell i hardly fit in to society now...my ideals seem prehistoric...

    i feel like i am from another age---

    like a dinosaur...

    i remember when we used to spend time face to face, relating to each other...

    how we used to have causes and fight for them--

    now we are a generation of cell phones, i pads and texting---and causes are a passing fancy that never accelearte past that...

    thanks for writing this...i related on several levels...besides the one obvious...the dinosaurs and how they disappeared always fascinated me.
    someday they may talk about my generation the same way.

    | Posted on 2012-10-13 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      are you implying you're old? haha, just kidding.

    but seriously, to me, this rock metaphor can be read in several ways: the passage of time, jurassic/triassic/dinosaur age memories, almost zen in a way in that you focus on being that rock and how it must be to be in that state. on another level, it's a personal worry perhaps; age being experience and being a worldly creature who's seen and done many things, and is passing it on even now.

    and third, this speaks of constant passion to me. something seemingly eternal yet fleeting, and vice-versa, as solid becomes liquid becomes solid again, a triangular cycle, much like water in its various stages.

    my one and only nit would be that you seem to have a lot of end-line commas cluttering the last third of your poem here... i read your last two lines as a separate end statement, a closing volta if you will, not as you have it here, but hey, that's just my silly opinion.

    and my silly ramble.
    | Posted on 2008-02-11 00:00:00 | by silent strings | [ Reply to This ]
      very VERY nice work. ilove the imagery here and the way you personify the stones. my only suggestion is to maybe add 'still' to the last line. excellent piece. submit this.
    | Posted on 2008-01-13 00:00:00 | by joeyalphabet | [ Reply to This ]
      Yay, I remember being a hot rock, you struck a clanging chord with your meataphor!

    My nitpick is the last line. It needs to be stronger and I think it can be done.
    | Posted on 2008-01-08 00:00:00 | by Glen Bowman | [ Reply to This ]
      It flowed a lot better this time, did you condense it a bit? I don't quite remember what you did to the original poem to make this one, but I have to say that this is an amazing improvement upon the last. The overall pace of the poem is more stable, and the message is clearer. Good job.
    | Posted on 2008-01-08 00:00:00 | by Passionbyapathy | [ Reply to This ]
      A very creative write, we all grow old and look back at the days of being young. You beautifully described this process. My grandfather passed away recently, we where very close and in his last month he told me how difficult it is to grow old. The last few months I could not help to see my father in the same light as I saw grandfather. But this is all part of life.

    Thank you for reminding me of all the good I once had.
    | Posted on 2008-01-08 00:00:00 | by Polydectes | [ Reply to This ]

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