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    dots Submission Name: when parallel lines intersectdots

    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    58/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2788/1297/258
    Words: 161
    Class/Type: Random Thoughts/Misc
    Total Views: 2259
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1003


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

    dotswhen parallel lines intersectdots

    when parallel lines intersect

    This poem cannot fully express its intricacies because art skims like mist on waters that cannot grasp meaning quickly enough to register depth to any profound degree.

    This poem would prefer to be a leisurely wave caressing a tidal shore as it rests against the sands of distant lands and laps up images of stars.

    This poem would love to sit quietly in the back row of a foreign cinema absorbing the swirling fractals of a film as geometric as a nightscape by Van Gogh.

    This poem wants to be a stiletto drive bys whispered threat as a stunned eyewitness spills a slurpee on his shoe.

    This poem wishes it had said/done/been more
    This poem wishes it had asked more probing questions
    This poem wishes it could be a semi-psychotic preamble to greater strangeness
    This poem, like a stirring madness, will never be complete

    This poet will never be finished...

    Submitted on 2009-08-25 10:39:48     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      O dear God and his dead son savoir of use all. If only I had any
    appreciation for Van Gogh. OK I do respect the fact he was one
    crazy mother with an eye for the girls, However not only did he
    get carried away, I think a tattoo of his beauty would have made
    his point. Perhaps this point would not have been as memorable however it would have sufficed for an unfortunate women of the time. In fact I dare say he would have score more points which I believe was the point. To wander off topic I was wondering!
    Have you encountered KoolAid Pickles? They seem to be all the
    rage around here. There is only one source I am aware of and
    I have yet to track here down. However I am told a KoolAid
    pickle is just that powdered Koolaid in a pickle. I am so
    In addition the only reason I comment here I am looking for the
    move away from the paper poem I cant find it anywhere?
    | Posted on 2012-09-01 00:00:00 | by DaleP | [ Reply to This ]
      this comment will never make sense.
    | Posted on 2011-07-26 00:00:00 | by Pietro | [ Reply to This ]
      I connect with this poem. It reaches the empty space I've found so many times in in writing, in sometimes leaving unfinished, poems. It is a genius to write about the empty space.
    | Posted on 2009-12-22 00:00:00 | by my shadow | [ Reply to This ]
      This poem strikes me as every poet's credo. It speaks to our need to express our impressions of the world around us and the inadequacies we feel when we attempt to do so.

    I particularly like the lines:

    This poem wishes it could be a semi-psychotic preamble to greater strangeness

    | Posted on 2009-12-20 00:00:00 | by JanePlane | [ Reply to This ]
    I'm pretty sure you left a skeletal, shorter version of this poem on my own list poem with each line beginning with 'This poem...' As a response, I was delighted to read it then, because it was like two minds connecting, or as your title so aptly states, parallel lines intersecting. I'm glad that you added a bit of flesh and posted this.

    I like the formatting and I don't. A part of me wants to see the imagery further broken up, but not too much, so the eyes can slow down a little and absorb the sights accordingly. Then a part of me likes how each part reads like taking a very deep breath. Sort of like meditation.

    Ultimately, it's up to you how it's supposed to be read. Just some food for thought.

    | Posted on 2009-10-27 00:00:00 | by O | [ Reply to This ]
    The lusting and ever changing voice of a writers eye. Longing to depict poetic beauty in everything. I love the shifts and twists with the wish of what "it" wants.This poem wants so be much yet delivers more because in the haste of "wanting" it wanders so far and fast that it never really settles and for the first time ever I read a poem that was all over the place on purpose but successfully achieved fulfillment with each image. Then once the write was over my mine easily wrapped around the idea that it will truly never be finished.

    You can never completely satisfy the beast

    This was a pleasure as always and I'm glad you're still here quenching our creative thirst...your words are like fine wine meant to be savored. yep

    | Posted on 2009-10-03 00:00:00 | by clay | [ Reply to This ]
      How overwhelming fortunate for all of us that "This poet will never be finished..."

    Your metaphors are stunning.

    This poem wants to be a stiletto drive bys whispered threat as a stunned eyewitness spills a slurpee on his shoe.

    All-time favorite line, you combine all my favorite things in one line (although, I do prefer Coke Icees over Fruity Slurpees, but that's a quibbling thing to bring up)...

    This word-slinger would love to write something as fabulous as this poem thinks its not.
    | Posted on 2009-09-13 00:00:00 | by Runes | [ Reply to This ]
      is this poem Euclidean or non?

    you always have such interesting writes. something to chew on. always go back and chew on some more kinda writes. and i like that about you. kinda simple in a nothing comes easy way. but they are never so far over my head that i can't grasp something. ya know.

    the title leaves room to think. and i wonder if we ever truly are. finished, that is. hmmmmmm.

    | Posted on 2009-08-26 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]
      wow....i really really liked this...it reminds me of how i felt everyday just looking out my window...just consumed in thought...wanting to know everything and wondering why all these little things matter to me....and i loved how you said that you poem will never be complete and how you as a poet never will be either....i know exactly how you feel and what you mean....because with our poems that we have written after we die our thoughts still live on as long on someone is reading it

    anyways i really liked this one

    ps...drop by my page sometime...coming from you i'd like to hear what you think of my writes
    | Posted on 2009-08-26 00:00:00 | by taintedsmiles | [ Reply to This ]

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