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    dots Submission Name: Megalomaniadots

    Author: mara
    Elite Ratio:    6.38 - 65/74/20
    Words: 419
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 894
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2614


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


    When I awoke, I was dead,
    breathing slate and soil.
    Dreams of air stirred my limbs, sent my bones
    Because I would not atone for sins undone,
    Paradise expelled me. And now I lie,
    the earth pressing along the length of my body
    which turns to dust 'ere flesh it ever were.


    Knowledge is our death,
    I said,
    and she rolled her eyes and
    stubbed out her cigarette.


    To be: an atom, a pinprick--
    dustmotes and butterflies—
    To be a galaxy,
    lighting the night sky.

    To be Lucifer, spitting liquid iron
    into the face of God.


    to be, or not--
    to be a mouse? a slug? a fly? a frog?
    to be a king or lowborn maid?
    some incarnation cased in this subterranean coffin?
    (we buried her in this earthen coffin)

    Karma's hard but fair.
    I toss and turn, to the sound of scraping shovels.


    Knowledge is our death,
    he said,
    and I rolled my eyes and
    stubbed out my cigarette

    To know transgression is to first transgress,
    We both know,
    and in our knowing we have already lost
    a zero-sum game.

    To find a space between sin and salvation,
    to find a place to breathe innocence.
    Our thoughts flicker like torchlight,
    caged by frost and fog on the windowpane.

    We have mined our bowels for redemption,
    We have combed our veins for indifferent hope:
    We have searched in the chasm twixt our lungs

    And in that gaping space fenced by my ribs:
    I read an oracle's inscription.
    Paradise refused us: Paradox moved us.

    There's a molecule's breadth between a latte and a
    half-eaten egg salad sandwich;
    There I'll rest the ashes of my forgotten fire.


    To be laughter
    or to be a sigh

    to be the dirt
    settling over one’s eyes


    Born, never born,
    under water, under waves.
    Can it be said I wept?
    My eyes bled open in salted seas,
    and so I wept my bed and my raiment
    I wept my place and my ensconcement.
    Through tears I became my birth,
    and so tears mingle in lungs,
    mingle in blood until we,
    sons of dead stars,
    become saline solution.

    Submitted on 2008-03-21 03:52:21     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      What I got out of this...

    That we are made of great and lesser things, both, combined. That, in the end, these things are not so different. We have this sense of superiority, as though we are above natural things. We've definitely become at odds with a lot of it, but then there is also this fear of being reduced to that, though is it really being reduced? Or just returning? Our abilities cause us our strife, and it is through our capacity to think and hold knowledge. Religion is such a strong aspect of this, and I find it potent in this write throughout.

    Which is all, more or less, easily gathered, but what isn't easily gathered is why you wrote this. I feel that something so incredibly personal lies behind each stanza, something that you're trying to say without saying, and you do this so effectively throughout that it leaves me longing to know. Especially when you talk of she and he. The style is also very interesting and well played.

    I do not have a critique for this. In fact, I feel that it is complete, and though I can't quite explain it, I've found something in this write I've been looking for in poetry. It's a struggle to find, something that doesn't tell the obvious but leaves to the reader what it will.



    p.s. I'm not kissing your ass.
    | Posted on 2008-03-24 00:00:00 | by Lady of Shalott | [ Reply to This ]
      Im not going to pretend that I was able to grasp the extreme concepts presented in this poem, at least not all of them, but I will explain what I enjoyed about it. This poem was able to touch upon so many concepts "larger than life" or far beyond the scope of the human mind, yet it maintained a pristine sense of down to earth realism. You maintained that realism through your formatting of the poem, and through constant references back to things like snubbing out a cigarette, which instantly brought the poem back to reality. I'd read a line about knowledge being the death of us, my mind would start drifting, my attention would shift, and unintentionally i'd almost lose interest. Then i'd read the line about the cigarette, and suddenly I was back and the imagery of you rolling your eyes and putting out that cigarette were my "reality check". This poem maintains constant references to different scientific principles, which you think would help keep it grounded, but the principles displayed are the complex ones that make you THINK. Bringing up concepts like one small atom a tiny spec on this planet, us being similar specs in the scope of the universe. You use a very large vocabulary/diction base and it shows, but it flows more academically than beautifully, the poem makes you think, not lets you enjoy or experience something beyond your reach otherwise. Theres nothing wrong with that, and I commend you on being able to do it so skillfully. Thank you for the entertaining and insightful read, it kept me captivated.
    | Posted on 2008-03-21 00:00:00 | by Passionbyapathy | [ Reply to This ]

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