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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Lost and Founddots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Ettenna Izus
    Elite Ratio:    5.38 - 11/9/14
    Words: 219
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 575
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1353



    Description:
       


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

    dotsThe Lost and Founddots
    -------------------------------------------


    “They’re lost,” he says,
    puffing a long stream from the corner of his mouth
    out into the clouds that surround us.
    A group of birds are gathering in the tree,
    whose boney February structure pokes
    through the thin spots of fog that’s thick and close as a stuffy nose.

    They shriek above us, out of the whiteness,
    so white it might as well be black, like a negative of nighttime.
    Every once in a while one lunges out into a clear patch,
    the way the ant drowning in my coffee surfaces sporadically
    and always misses the grasping swoop of my spoon.
    “Help!” it cries to its companions, who wait together in the same confusion.

    I can see the distant form of someone trudging,
    enclosed like Michael and me in his own little bubble of damp, see-through air,
    just another part of the solitude we’re all soaked in.
    He drops his butt into a slushy island of remaining snow with all the others,
    some stuck in little nicotine-stained depressions,
    some fallen down, soggy and limp, leaking tobacco clumps
    like dollars lost from a holey pocket.
    They lay piled together there, huddled like survivors waiting for rescue,
    but I just stomp out the little orange spot and scold him for not doing it himself.




    Submitted on 2008-03-06 20:25:48     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      They’re lost he says with a puff.
    Smoke streams from the corner of his mouth
    out into the clouds that engulf us.

    A group of birds gathers in the tree.
    Their bony February structures poke
    through the thin spots of the fog;
    it's thick and close as a stuffy nose.

    I don't know. This might not agree with you, but it's how I would've done it. The few word changes you can ignore too if you want, just some.. synonyms per se that I found more suitable. I only found the verb tense to be more pleasing for some reason. Especially with the following "shriek" in the present tense. Also, it should be Michael and I.

    I don't quite understand the ending of this piece, as of the nicotine point. I wouldn't flag it as incomprehensible or anything, it's just me I assume. Though with that lack of comprehension I don't quite gather the meaning of this piece. I like the notion of the fog, and its ambiguity symbolizing solitude(and the white to black change). It is true that even on the sunniest and clearest of days, between people there is always some kind of a fog, blinding them from each other. I also do not follow the meaning of the title or the birds. The birds a lot less however, because symbolically all can be explained. They could be opportune moments showing themselves, though skinny and seldom - like the ant that struggles for the surface haphazardly appearing. It's a pity his companions can only wait, obfuscated and useless. I actually am liking this piece the more I think about it. Of course, I would love it a lot more without as many commas and perhaps better line breaks - which might mean a complete structural makeover... My feeling from before is still applied to this piece, but I find it a lot more suiting here because it takes on this realism tone, that mystifies the reader in the actual meaning of every detail.

    Thanks for the read .
    | Posted on 2008-03-16 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ]


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