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    dots Submission Name: Strifedots

    Author: saartha
    ASL Info:    27/F/US
    Elite Ratio:    4.01 - 230/393/145
    Words: 76
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1566
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 550

       Aspire, perspire, expire.

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


    I wake sallowly, all
    sub-rounded corners and
    disjointed limbs. The night
    is a thready, uneven pulse.

    Over the sea, an iceberg
    breaks into flocks of birds. They
    are only birds.

    And still the sky throbs,
    throbs, while all the wetly
    breathing matter wheezes
    in tandem like some dying
    magnificent orchestra, like wind

    in a skull, like my own
    hunched body, which sweats
    and breathes
    despite itself.

    Submitted on 2009-02-09 07:09:38     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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

    ||| Comments |||
      Wow. This is good.

    It reminds me of 'the Stonepicker' by Frieda Hughes. I'm not sure why, maybe something resonates between the two.

    I particularly like:

    'while all the wetly
    breathing matter wheezes
    in tandem like some dying
    magnificent orchestra'.

    You somehow manage to make the very act of living feel obscene and grotesque, which really helped me on my way to the end. I was agreeing with your body living in spite of itself! And then reality hit, I remembered life can be good too, it's not just some disgusting chore to get through!

    Oh, too many thoughts.

    This was interesting. It's made me feel a little bleak. A lot bleak, actually. But it was good.

    | Posted on 2009-07-10 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ]
      Well, I won't pretend I understood this completely, but, yeah, good write!

    I also liked the "iceberg" imagery.

    Overall I'd say this piece was original, and u expressed yourself in an imaginative way.

    Sorry my comment is so short and crappy, but I just wanted to say I enjoyed the piece.

    :) Alexboy
    | Posted on 2009-06-12 00:00:00 | by alexboy | [ Reply to This ]
      what a stunning read.. i'm highly impressed.

    "Over the sea, an iceberg
    breaks into flocks of birds. They
    are only birds."

    brilliant. i loved that line so much.

    "And still the sky throbs,
    throbs, while all the wetly
    breathing matter wheezes
    in tandem like some dying
    magnificent orchestra, like wind

    in a skull, like my own
    hunched body, which sweats
    and breathes
    despite itself."

    that part was genius. i relate to your writing style quite a lot. great peice of writing this one :)
    | Posted on 2009-04-16 00:00:00 | by blackbird | [ Reply to This ]
      I've read this a few times and I think it's good.

    The phrasing is tight, the iceberg/bird imagery is stunning.

    For me what makes this poem is the connections: it freeverses sonnet style

    sub-rounded/disjointed limbs

    bent out of shape and as jase mentioned sub-rounded is a word to puzzle over and dwell upon. It makes me feel pity in a way that disjointed limbs doesn't because I think it speaks of an inadequacy of the soul/spirit.

    the iceberg/bird scene turns the sequence upside down because hope comes before reality and yet it's telling that you chose an iceberg..."iceberg dead ahead" so it's not so much hope as the lightness of a lesser gloom.

    "thready pulse" launches "wetly" and" throbs" x's 2 later on in the poem so that you have a wavering toward death and a fierce fight for life playing off against each other.

    Basically this poem is a composition of note and counter note in a disfigured soul

    hard to pick out favorite lines but these were them:

    "like my own
    hunched body, which sweats
    and breathes
    despite itself."

    I think this is a difficult poem in that its stasis exacts a proportional response in the way it makes me feel.

    And wonder what it might grow or fade into as a result of change. Are you brave enough to see?
    | Posted on 2009-03-16 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ]
      there is a surreal atmosphere which marks most of your work, and it's shown in full light here, i believe. you're very precise in your wording, yet that allows for exploration: how words connect to give subdermal meanings, and how it's very hard to give my thoughts when confronted by such images. it's my lack of internal processing which fails me in this regard, not yours, and it leaves me puzzled, but in a good way, as poetry will do at times.

    "sub-rounded corners"? i like the sound of this but i wonder why you write "sub": "under" in the latin sense, right? makes me think of carpentry, of smoothing corners down with sandpaper or a fine rasp... especially coupled with "disjointed", i immediately think of wood joints. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rounding_(sediment) i just looked this up and found out that it was a geological term. so, scratch everything that i just said. haha. well, not really, but now i'm more aware of its exact meaning.

    your second strophe stood out the most to me. on a visual level i could see this well: something out on the water that looked like an iceberg suddenly breaking apart into the form of actual birds. this would make a great painting or moving image sequence, i'd imagine. the finality of your second line here is very abrupt, very... realistic. cynical, almost. but poetic because of this realisation.

    taking your last two strophes into consideration, it seems you awoke from a very bad dream, one which immmediately gave you the impression of strife, oppression, general chaos, i think. which you mirror back to me, the reader.

    i could ramble on about these last two but i won't. your imagery is crystal. idiosyncratic. peculiar in a way, if that makes sense. and overtly troubled. your linebreaks reinforce all of this, too, by the way.

    and... i'll stop here
    because i'm babbling like usual.

    | Posted on 2009-03-06 00:00:00 | by meoww | [ Reply to This ]
      And they are just birds - and you are just sick.

    It might be a cellular structure but the strain is evident on anything walking this planet.

    It's part of living, you know? If life was easy all the time the suicide rate would quadruple.

    Despite the sickness, the pain, living things push on and up.

    It's done here in fine contrast between the iceberg (massive and powerful) to tiny birds and a sick person waking in their own agony.

    Sallow? How ill they must be, truly, to have such a sickly pigment.

    This is the first piece of I've seen from you where the middle part to the ending is a ramp up. It's like an uppercut, at full force, right on the jaw.

    I think you've done it quite well here.
    | Posted on 2009-02-10 00:00:00 | by Fizzlethorpe | [ Reply to This ]
      I don't know why, but I keep thinking about The Dead Poets Society while I read this piece. This is good and original, and I am totally shocked there are no strict rules at play here. No tricks, no clever and/or obscure style or references. This is the only "pure" poem I have ever read from you. To be fair I have been gone for a while and I haven't really read THAT much of your work, though I have read a fair amount I'd say.
    | Posted on 2009-02-09 00:00:00 | by nicodemous | [ Reply to This ]

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