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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: rather postcards than calendarsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: discombobulated
    ASL Info:    26/m/nz
    Elite Ratio:    5.22 - 81/63/24
    Words: 230
    Class/Type: Riddle/Gothic
    Total Views: 1063
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1553



    Description:
       i'm always of two minds, caught in two worlds.
    randomness, yes.
    but hey.

    freshly written.


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

    dotsrather postcards than calendarsdots
    -------------------------------------------




    I

    i'm in
    no mood for calendars
    or dogs named pablo.

    sol blossomed.
    the four winds
    sleep. luna
    cannot be seen
    watching
    over me.

    i need postcards.
    a vestal flame. stilettos
    engraved, the sound of a page.

    you want a diary. you want mercy to stay.

    and here, this earth is disconnected from your hands.
    you sing of sirens destroying themselves, splintered
    strands of hair on a narwhal's horn. for you imagine:
    what of narnia, what of poppyfields, what of bedsheets
    in war? we stumble, i stumble, you soar and fall.
    psyche is wandering. eros is beneath the floor.
    shellac crumbles. the tone is sweet candour.

    you want a diary. you want patience to play.
    cross my fingers. crack my collarbone.


    II

    leave the front door
    slightly open.
    moisten lips.
    a spanish galleon could've sunk
    in st. mary's bay, the madonna's bosom, after all.
    each conquistador, a gold-leaf wraith
    with forgotten titles.

    cadiz. valencia.
    their daughters' letters
    ended up
    in frosted bottles
    of gaia's comb.

    seaward, can you smell the moors?
    orangeblossoms, heather, a gypsy cradle.


    _________________________________________________




    Submitted on 2008-07-28 11:03:37     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      Echoes of Lorca? Maybe it's just all the Spanishy-ness, you're certainly not as surreal as him here... but there is a fragmented randomness, something disconnected, something lonely...

    And I'm not even going to try and interpret this... poems like this really don't need to be squeezed for psychological insights or philosophical dogmas... it just exists as it is, all beautiful and odd.

    Pretty with or without sleep in the eyes.

    And I love the mention of Narwhals. More poems should mention a Narwhal. Or be written by a Narwhal... carved by horn on the sides of ships? Yes! Narwhals are very cool. I'd dress up as one but I'd look like a dickhead.

    Erm...

    Yeah.

    Pretty.
    | Posted on 2008-08-09 00:00:00 | by Icarus | [ Reply to This ]
      (this is pretty, with the sleep still in my eyes.)
    | Posted on 2008-07-28 00:00:00 | by etheror | [ Reply to This ]


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