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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Cornered (re-write)dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: KimmyMim
    Elite Ratio:    4.4 - 223/303/117
    Words: 302
    Class/Type: Rant/Satire
    Total Views: 911
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1064



    Description:
       Don't remember what I did.
    Do remember mum saying, "wait 'til your father gets home!"


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

    dotsCornered (re-write)dots
    -------------------------------------------


    Through tired eyes, swollen shut
    we barely see our feet standing
    pigeon-toed at the bottom
    of a thousand steps
    in the paneled corner
    of his ballpark living room.

    Our mouth is filled and leaking.
    We cannot swallow for fear
    our load may return a spill
    and ruin his precious floor.
    (Then we’ll owe our soul
    to the knuckled-back slam
    of his granite hand.)

    "You may go!"
    Finally we can release
    our pockets full
    of energy and push
    our withered legs
    from crawl to run
    up the step mountain.
    We trip and stumble,
    then fall to worship

    the porcelain goddess.
    She has been waiting patiently
    for our sacrifice.
    Our offering today
    chewed up bubbles
    and liquid soap.




    Submitted on 2008-01-17 13:03:47     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Am I to understand that this tyrant is feeding you soap . Damn , what's your address ? I'll send the police .

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2011-03-25 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]
      wow.
    ouch.
    this is not a nice poem.
    not nice at all.
    well written, yes.
    format-wise and grammatically perfect, yes.
    but this is not a nice poem.
    this makes me want to cry a little.
    reminds me of my dad, except my dad never made me eat soap.
    lovely write.
    very leave-a-lump-in-your-throat-ish, but lovely all the same.
    nicely done.
    ~Syn
    | Posted on 2008-03-27 00:00:00 | by Syn | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow, this was a nice trip down memory lane, except it was experienced totally differently because of your choice of words. I think it's amazing the words you chose to use to weave the pattern of the story here, it's very unique. The description was amusing. I especially like the last stanza, and the "...pockets/full of energy..." I can remember times when the anger needed to spill out, or risk the fear of exploding. Somehow, though, it's not as angry as I would expect is to be when I would remember the scenes. It's almost like I can see things now and understand more of what happened. I wish I had a better restraint to my words, but it's why I write now. I guess something good came out of it, huh? Really nice write, thank you.
    Be well,
    ~Azura*
    | Posted on 2008-01-17 00:00:00 | by EmpathicAya | [ Reply to This ]
      Sorry for the double comment, but I accidentally posted before I was done. I love how the seriousness of this message wasn't lost, and that you could tell it in such an offhanded unique way. The fear of dirtying the floor for fear of the back of his hand, is so clear (and familiar in some respects to me) that it hit right at home. I enjoyed this read for the mixture of seriousness/comedy and the unique way in which you told it.
    | Posted on 2008-01-17 00:00:00 | by Passionbyapathy | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow! This is great. Its such a simple tale, so well told. I love the way you structure your stanzas, it makes this read so smooth. Your metaphors and personification are not only perfect, but in some cases (like the porcelain goddess) absolutely hilarious. This was well written, and an enjoyable read. Thanks for an entertaining minute or two on this bummer of a day. Kind of brightened it up a bit.
    | Posted on 2008-01-17 00:00:00 | by Passionbyapathy | [ Reply to This ]


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