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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: a night of conflictdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: discombobulated
    ASL Info:    26/m/nz
    Elite Ratio:    5.22 - 81/63/24
    Words: 201
    Class/Type: Rant/Depressed
    Total Views: 921
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1340



    Description:
       i am such a pretentious artwhore.
    ignore my ramblings.
    seriously.
    i'm only posting
    because i'm in limbo right now.


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

    dotsa night of conflictdots
    -------------------------------------------




    and i know that's what i seem to
    desire as a pyramid to tutankhamen's
    eyes lined with kohl and coal covered
    fingers cupping flame to ceiling asking
    asking what all those symbols mean
    when everything can be taken
    out of context and eventualities
    which never quite eventuate
    how you will it
    to be

    and i sold my palms
    to the closest fortune-teller
    willing me empresses and rivers
    and rabbit-holes into my wonderland
    where conversation is a silent motionless
    enterprise of saffron and silk and
    rustling curvatures implying
    bodies dancing and living and laughing
    and searching for the next
    little thing

    and i on the mezzanine and i
    in a hallway circumventing solutions
    mapped out by cartesian thinkers
    by encyclopaedic memories and notes
    and notes and more endless misconceptions
    given salt and pepper
    to taste

    i want all of this to crumble
    for hieroglyphics to bathe in
    green currents green melodies
    in silver solutions
    inseeming and insoluble
    inscrutable and enchanting
    you

    _______________________________________




    Submitted on 2008-08-16 07:11:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      i like how you say that we so desirious of good things , tone our minds and bodies to search for eventualities which never come out the way as willed. Then in crippled desire we consort with fortune tellers (the blinders to our vision) as we search for the next chanceful thing. As we search through the all of knowledge, we find they are only guidelines for us to flavor with the salt and pepper of our own lives. in the last stanza , i surmise that with all that knowledge wefinally come to realise that the end result is how we interpret how our lives should be lived.
    | Posted on 2008-08-18 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ]


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