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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Something or Another, Somewhere In Betweendots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Black Rock Tractor
    Elite Ratio:    3.78 - 555/824/140
    Words: 113
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 860
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 752



    Description:
       


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    dotsSomething or Another, Somewhere In Betweendots
    -------------------------------------------


    none of the days wrote themselves
    blank pages in the morning,
    softer than the dew on the grass.

    somehow the creeks in the floor boards
    learned to write,
    and not with the whispers
    that i heard.

    melodies
    with each step on the carpet, shuffles
    from the front door to the back

    not a word spoken by the walls
    they never talk,
    but only sit and laugh at our singular
    parade.

    2 drinks, five, four more for the lost birds,
    two smokes for the road
    and another
    for the Southern wind.

    the idles get crushed beneath waves.

    yesterday loves tomorrow, and all
    the endless days.




    Submitted on 2008-03-13 20:55:37     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      ah, there's something about this which i love... the mixing of senses, of literal and abstract which forms a magical whole. it's poetry like this which i enjoy the most, for sure.

    one little nitpick? just my first thoughts, really...
    'did flow' sounds kinda... rough to my ears for some reason. how about:
    melodies, they flow with each step
    i took on the carpet, shuffles
    from the front door to the back

    just a suggestion which i hardly give out.

    but yeah... this poem is beautiful. truly.
    ~
    | Posted on 2008-03-15 00:00:00 | by silent strings | [ Reply to This ]
      i remember you! it's been ages since you've stuck up anything new (not that i've been here to be an accurate authority on that opinion, but live inside my self involved earth for awhile), so welcome back.

    this is like gorgeous and moist chocolate cake that is good as a whole and delicious in slices and in swipes of icing. i can look at these lines, these stanzas and the the piece in its entirety and find something that steals my breath and makes me think, surprising me with insight so rare in poetry around here lately. i love that the very walls and the floors tell the ghost story like a benevolent cautionary tale. and i disagree with the sense of loneliness - i see only those moments in which we are honest with ourselves about the large life we live in small rooms with windows, too quickly forgotten in our race to leave unpleasantness behind.

    thanks for sharing. :)

    ~Blue
    | Posted on 2008-03-14 00:00:00 | by blueorchids | [ Reply to This ]
      you know, sometimes being in today sucks...

    worse when the walls remind you that you are indeed alone and mock you with their silence. funny, I was trying to write something last night and it just wouldn't come out right, yet you captured pretty much the feeling I was trying to articulate, but couldn't.

    there is such a loneliness that comes through in this piece, despondency, almost a giving in to the feeling of f.uck it, this is how it is, this is how it will always be.


    I love this:

    2 drinks, five, four more for the lost birds,
    two smokes for the road and another
    for the wind.

    the idles get crushed beneath waves.

    the idles get crushed... now that is pretty damned heavy, that.

    (melodies)

    somewhere between living and dying there has to be something worth opening your eyes for... ya know?

    some days it is just hard to see the light.

    | Posted on 2008-03-14 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]


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