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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: williamson ave, saturday nightdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: zen-dog
    Elite Ratio:    2.23 - 73/35/12
    Words: 225
    Class/Type: Cheesy Joke/Cutting or Mutilation
    Total Views: 1374
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1336



    Description:
       hahaha.




    not.


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

    dotswilliamson ave, saturday nightdots
    -------------------------------------------




    asha, you're a believer of revolution. myself,
    i waver between the fundamentals of reason
    telling me there's no use in change, that what we do
    is ropey silence, smeared brie on wholemeal
    quickly shared and messily eaten.

    there, we fused hips, joined and seasoned with cloves
    and unspoken sin. your eyes spoke of light and firm desire
    which i had no answer for. not right then.
    not when others dared to intrude
    upon our tranquil strife.

    i looked up at the moon that night, saw mars within
    its penumbra: a smaller twin, hovering near its belly.
    that's the only revolution i'll truly believe:
    that of constant spinning, that of the push and pull
    of planets and moons in cyclic fusion.

    tell me i'm another fool looking to the heavens for guidance.
    tell me i don't need to be told this over and under again.
    and later, i walked back, up ariki road and along great north.
    down potatau and left onto home. i felt cloudy and oppressed.
    i felt i had to drown in uncaring city noise.

    at 3 a.m. there's no relief when awake and needing ocean.
    the pavement calls. i walk. i dream and mutter poems.




    Submitted on 2008-06-12 16:28:40     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      A sexually frustrated dreamer's attempt to define revolution as he/she sees it. Is it the overthrow of worlds or their slow orbit around one another leading to the inevitable collisions that are never completely satisfying? And to be a mumbling dreamer whispering poems to oneself, does that imply that the central character is involved in many friendships/relationships but is never totally a part of another perosn's life? Just some thoughts that this write inspired.


    You really should read the latest from diamondmind, by the way. It's uncanny how closely your styles resemble one another. :)

    Nicely done, z-dog.
    Bill
    | Posted on 2008-06-14 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]
      Mmhmm.














    You lead a crazy life,
    yep.


    ('onto' in s4 seems odd...?)

    Rawr!?
    Rawr, indeed...














    By

























    the way...


    This is as close to a 'nothing' comment as you're going to get.
    Uh huh.

    (i will never forget how to pronounce 'potatau.' nope.)
    | Posted on 2008-06-13 00:00:00 | by sadtrapofgravit | [ Reply to This ]
      at 3 a.m. there's no relief when awake and needing ocean.
    the pavement calls. i walk. i dream and mutter poems.




    i just like this part here.
    or maybe i like the whole thing but i like that end part so much more that it makes me think i dont like anything else.

    ive had a moment where ive done just like this. admittedly i was rather drunk. but i needed the ocean and there was none for at least 2hour drive [stupid hick towns in the middle of nowhere] and i was sick of the people i was supposedly partying with so i left. and it should only have taken me 5 minutes to get to where i was staying. there werent enough streets for any adventures. but it took me 3 hours of walking and rambling/muttering poems i knew and was attempting to commit to memory before i was home and in bed.
    it didnt matter anyways... i needed the sounds of the ocean to be able to sleep that night at the very least... the feel of the ocean to be able to dream...
    | Posted on 2008-06-12 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]


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