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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Fuck Love, We're Crazy Peopledots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Passionbyapathy
    ASL Info:    18/M/Ohio State
    Elite Ratio:    6.06 - 174/189/127
    Words: 528
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 90
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3346



    Description:
       


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

    dotsFuck Love, We're Crazy Peopledots
    -------------------------------------------



    If I could spit venom, this paper would hiss.


    Watcher weeps atop his keep
    while watchers wait, he never sleeps
    watchers wait till death, so weep
    to watch her wait through hazy days
    daze till day sweeps night away
    and melts the weeks till autumn
    leaves grace and plague the sidewalk sweeps
    city streets are so cold at night, its lonely
    without her light heartened lantern light
    to grace and bless my step I stride -
    about the cold and bitter months
    with nothing.

    its dark and i can feel it biting
    my face is numb with the persistence of it
    rasping, clawing, grasping at my spine
    (still too apathetic to grant me the bravery
    to walk away and not bend my honest head to you)
    I lay uncrowned, and forever in spite of you
    cowled, full scowl despite the lovely sight of you
    and still that look, the "in love with you", it gets me,
    it breaks my will with the slight of you, im tipsy, and
    it breaks my heart that you'd drive right off forever.

    I'd forgive a slight of every type of hue,
    but baby this one's past my standards
    so let words hail down like falling planets
    (where i held you, you were stranded...)
    forget my plight, you never cared a damn bit
    you abandoned every care you mighta had, you preplanned it
    so don't play lover now that you've left me scared
    because scarred is exactly how the heat will sear
    your statistical abuse into my tender heart strings
    recording what was love once, and deserves to be recorded
    before every fantasy dies, and love with it burning
    to ashes before my very eyes so fast its
    turning to ashes so fast,
    and im dying.

    Another slavery for more lies
    that bound her hands from reaching out to me,
    her hands from reaching out to keep
    the notion that maybe i might be someone
    instead of just another anyone, like the way
    everyone treats everyone anymore.

    You bare the soul weight of promising to be different
    the soul face for all of my resentment,
    the true face of responsibility,
    heavy is the head that wears that crown,
    and heavy is the head that you let down...
    so lets let your locked lips be the end of it
    because if you couldn't say something then,
    then to hell with love, you had your chance to save it.

    I asked you nice through subtleties
    to cradle close and safe my heart, a gift bestowed
    to willing fingers still playing patti-cake with my emotions
    I asked you nice, because You said you loved me,
    and I still believed there was some meaning to that word.

    My life is one big irony, bitter
    like Shakespearean humor, deathly sonnets
    heavy fates, and love as truth,
    more irony.

    Fuck Jude, no one will understand this poetry
    not one mocking soul can piece two words of mine together
    i am the mad man,
    but every syllable sets in it's cast stone for reason
    i will go forever misunderstood,
    i will get on: forever misunderstand me.




    Submitted on 2009-08-30 03:27:27     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      *sighs* I've read this poem again and again, and still, it breaks my heart. Venom indeed does fill the words. Intense, heated venom. It's hard for me to piece together how I feel reading this, my heart scatters beneath my. Beaten. Enlightened. Thrilled. Crushed. Such a beautiful, epic poem. Such a woeful, empty tale. And, tales must be told, I suppose, and the best to be told are the ones that tear us apart, aren't they? Still, one wishes that tales such as these were never real. Just figments of a writer's imagination. Too bad, too bad. They hardly ever are, are they? One can say, "Oh, it's just a poem. It's just a story." But, is it ever really just a poem? Just a story? Perhaps, I am disillusioned by my own imagination, but I believe not. I certainly believe not.

    What agony you capture in this place! What intense hurt hangs from every curling letter!


    I must say the use of onomatopoeia is quite...poetic. You say you're no poet, but look! Just look! The words, you sculpt them to perfection, mold them to your will. You take beauty and make it...art. Simply magnificent. Never, ever believe you are not a poet. You have the soul of a poet, the pen of a poet, the ....aura of a poet. You are a sparkling....poet. So...yeah. You just are.


    *touches her heart* It aches in a breaking, empty, dull passion in there...reading this...living this.


    Maybe I don't understand, but, I think, my heart disagrees.



    Absolutely...amazing.


    Goggles, you are a poet. <3 Sweets
    | Posted on 2009-09-08 00:00:00 | by SweetAndOhSoME | [ Reply to This ]
      I've read this a couple of times over the past few days and well yeah, as you mentioned in the write, I can't really understand what you're going through right now and so it's difficult for me to capture the true essence of this. But even reading it without analyzing it too much, I felt a sense of rage, anger...
    As is the case with most of your poems, it felt very raw, simple clear anger. Really fantastically done, James. You might be misunderstood, but I think anyone and everyone who reads this will be able to feel it, feel you and your pain.
    I hope things are going better for you.

    All sorrows can be borne if you can put them into a story or tell a story about them

    Keep writing, mister.
    | Posted on 2009-09-06 00:00:00 | by abuzzbuzz92 | [ Reply to This ]
      This has a lot of raw anger, J.
    every line spits fire.

    I mean, how else do i put it?
    without seeming like I'm trying to say things that I can't even possibly understand.
    This write is all over the place, yet iron clad on your subject...and it's all wrapped up by that very succinct first line...

    It is actually really strong,
    I'm surprised by the intense resentful tone though. Don't know why.

    -C
    | Posted on 2009-08-30 00:00:00 | by CourtneyLynne | [ Reply to This ]
      I found it a bit drawn out as if you could of made this a two part series. Even though it was long it was powerful, demanding yet holding a deep seeded feeling of melancholy. You need a more natural feeling to this poem, it feels cold and a bit too personal. Ride the power and let furious words come to birth.

    Good job.

    -Dustin
    | Posted on 2009-08-30 00:00:00 | by HisNameIsNoMore | [ Reply to This ]
      First, this is quite long and intimidating to open, but once reading, it's nearly impossible to tear your eyes away. Secondly, I thought, what should be left out? So I re-read it, and really, nothing should be left out. It's exactly how it should be, and I like how it's a "some-rhyme" poem... I don't care much for metres, they are great when you do them correctly, but too structured for my liking sometimes. When I rhyme, I tend to sing-song. I like that this doesn't do that. I like this very much, in fact, and you state in it that no one is going to understand it? You may be right, but I think I'm quite comfortable mentally in it, so maybe I am delusional here but this makes perfect sense to me. I am not confused at all.

    but every syllable sets in it's cast stone for reason

    I firmly agree with you there. It's not always going to be "pretty, clean, streamlined" when it's reflecting the jaggedness of the soul.
    | Posted on 2009-08-30 00:00:00 | by Runes | [ Reply to This ]


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