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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: tempest: nocturnedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: discombobulated
    ASL Info:    26/m/nz
    Elite Ratio:    5.22 - 81/63/24
    Words: 112
    Class/Type: Story/Nostalgia
    Total Views: 811
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 730



    Description:
       nods.


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

    dotstempest: nocturnedots
    -------------------------------------------




    what one can do
    to placate the weary frown
    stuck to your face, mindful
    of each crest harpooning
    the perceived gentleness
    you require.

    each hand to deck, each finger
    silent beneath frayed rope
    and salted rails.
    you wanted this journey.
    you told me the nearest cape
    was only two days away,
    filled with gannets embedded
    in rough-hewn nests.

    unpick each pin
    holding these nights together.
    unravel each thread
    which scars sky to sea.
    the wind restores, gives faith
    in troubled waters.

    we'll reach home,
    wherever that may be.




    Submitted on 2008-09-06 00:03:53     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
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    ||| Comments |||
      you know... i kinda just want to ditto Rachel
    but for different reasons I imagine.

    this is such a pretty piece. and to quote this from her -

    'See?
    You're pretty.
    Deal with it.'

    soooo... yea and there.


    'each hand to deck, each finger
    silent beneath frayed rope
    and salted rails.'

    this almost feels rosary-like and I am not sure why... but it feels it.

    and though this is melancholly, there is a sense of hope. of home.

    home is so important, wherever it may be.
    home to me is: where you can be yourself.
    there is something incredibly special about that.
    | Posted on 2008-09-07 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]
      See?
    You're pretty.
    Deal with it.

    (i know you're done, and so am i, but can we both just hold on a little longer before we give up and blow away?)

    My fingers are a little rusty from all this nonsense. But let's see. Can I trace the syllables that are meant to be traced? We'll see...

    Mister... Why are you so weary? And why must you be placated so? You're a freewheeling [censored], and I thought that was how you liked it: wild and anything but placid. Don't let age get you down. There'll be more. You'll find the perfect woman with the perfect hands and there will be sunsets and sunrises and maybe if you still need that trigger, it'll be there too.
    (the above is just random. has little to do with the piece. but you've been weary and placated and all that lately... and i'm just a broken heart that wants to help.)

    Home is just around the corner.
    You're just along for the ride, but someone's brought you with. Don't forget their face or spinal column.
    Troubled waters calm, soothe. As do eyebrows, shoulders.
    Relax.
    Don't sigh too much.
    Try not to cry.





    Goodbye.
    | Posted on 2008-09-07 00:00:00 | by etheror | [ Reply to This ]
      I love this, I am completely, as for now at a loss of why. That is until this comment unravels enough to reveal that to me clear enough to form into some kind of translation of thought.


    unpick each pin
    holding these nights together.
    unravel each thread
    which scars sky to sea.
    the wind restores, gives faith
    in troubled waters.




    I just loved that. I love the imagery I guess. It's just verry verry pretty.
    | Posted on 2008-09-07 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]


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