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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Fucking Angelsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Mister Fizzle
    ASL Info:    32/M/Hell in a Handbasket
    Elite Ratio:    5.4 - 751/762/176
    Words: 158
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 221
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1087



    Description:
       fucking angels


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

    dotsFucking Angelsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Took myself seriously for awhile.
    Fucked angels and
    dreamt of putting
    sturdy bullets through my brain.
    But their direct manner
    made me secretly laugh (the bullets, mind, not the angels)
    and I chose marriage instead.

    Finest dawn on your birthday, marriage.
    Gray storm clouds full of rain.
    Tornadoes blowing everything
    back to hell. Leaving one of those
    wide gaping trenches
    you only fully grasp
    from a chopper.

    Let me get this out.

    I am dismal.
    breaking train wreck tragedy
    on the 7 o'clock news.

    Nothing at all like fucking angels,
    or the romantic
    suicide-madness of youth.

    I want to say something
    and mean it to you
    like nothing I have ever meant before.
    Speak a word of truth
    that reverberates through
    computer screens and touches
    every single soul.

    I know my word. And it is of black places.

    Separate.




    Submitted on 2008-11-08 07:54:59     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      this piece is extremely powerful. a sheer torrent i can literally feel. the observations you perceive: direct and scathing.

    that's all i can say.
    damn.
    | Posted on 2008-12-24 00:00:00 | by meoww | [ Reply to This ]
      This really touched me. I gather from the comment below you are going through a divorce. Being 17, and not yet even close to marriage, I cannot share your pain. However, two years ago my parents got a divorce after 15 years of marriage. It has taken me those two years, plus more, to regain mental balance. My parents however, they are not so fortunate. Each still struggle daily with each other and the toils that come with a divorce.

    I wish you well, and hope for a speedy recovery from such a destruction of emotions.

    I find this poem messy. Normally I wouldn't like that, but in the context (even before I read you were going through a divorce) I liked it. This pain you feel is confused, messy, and if you were to write it in a clear and organized way it wouldn't really be telling a true story.

    The flow, I think because of this "messy" pain, was brilliant. I read it straight through, wasn't bored, and felt the effects immediately after.

    This stanza in particular held my attention:

    "I want to say something
    and mean it to you
    like nothing I have ever meant before.
    Speak a word of truth
    that reverberates through
    computer screens and touches
    every single soul."

    Your word of truth reverberated through my computer screen and touched my soul. Thank you.

    -Miss M.
    | Posted on 2008-11-08 00:00:00 | by fightingirl19 | [ Reply to This ]
      It must be the sarcophagal wrappings
    leading me to believe this blast of pain
    has no basis in a cotton cloudy kingdom
    if I dance with this bullet, angels remain

    dark choices
    and dark voices
    love me do
    | Posted on 2008-11-08 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ]
      What the [censored] hell is "ever" saying in that comment?

    Anyhow, hope your divorce is going well.
    | Posted on 2008-11-08 00:00:00 | by Aaron Felix | [ Reply to This ]
      damn. you know, I have never been able to squeeze a single word out when comfortable.
    they always flow out of this place of loneliness or a certain madness. not insane madness but... well I suppose you either know what I mean or you don't. if I'm not reading way too much into this, I'm guessing you do. comfort has this way of slowing things down. making things easy to describe without much effort and that (for me) equals apathetic and concise poetry. hmmm... maybe something is wrong with me. seems it should be the other way around. I guess why write about it when you have it?
    I might be missing the point here but damn.
    thats all.
    | Posted on 2008-11-08 00:00:00 | by ever | [ Reply to This ]



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