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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Shoulder divedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Outlaw
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 510/413/195
    Words: 101
    Class/Type: Poetry/Love
    Total Views: 1053
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 907



    Description:
       I'm missing the back..


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

    dotsShoulder divedots
    -------------------------------------------


    The wintry cold castle of ice
         whose entrance her shoulder marked
    was etched wide and thin
         with flaws; malformations, maculations.
    It was here that four, no five fingers
         entered without a warm welcome
    to find freedom; a wonderland for figure skaters -
         their entrance fee commissioned in love.
    Slow, they caressed what could be cut by blades
         below, earthquakes of shivers rampant in waters
    not quite frozen, yet, like the rest.
         In a way, the nipping cold gripped the minds
    and hearts of these fingers, forever congealing them
         within this castle of ice, floating upon currents
    where love ran evermore.




    Submitted on 2010-01-30 20:23:27     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

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    ||| Comments |||
      i often watch figure skating and am blown away by the gift these people have to do this...

    and the hard work to make such beautiful, graceful moves...

    i like the analogy here because i always notice a hardness, and edge to these skaters...

    there is a coldness in the entire scenario...the actual ice upon which the ice princesses skate..

    i like what you did with it here...but the castles these women build around themselves have flaws...they are vulnerable..unlike most of us would think of castles that are impenetrable..

    somehow the man can get through the ice, warm up the body and mind and heart within...

    this woman not quite frozen still has a chance for love...

    if she can get through the program without falling...

    the pic goes well with the piece...

    this is one of my favorites here...

    i'm still spinning on the ice...words within such an imaginative rink.


    jacob
    | Posted on 2011-04-12 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      Beautiful use of metaphor and analogy , aesthetically pleasing to the core . You've taken the simple story of a frigid woman , frostbitten by the drudgeries of womanhood , and her unwelcome would be lover , and turned it into a touching story of deep seated emotion and the spring time thaw . I especially liked the way you described the fingers as being like figure skaters caressing her not quite frozen soul causing earthquakes of shivers and rampant reactions in the chilly waters of her surviving spirit . The last part of the piece was wonderfully uplifting , as the wandering fingers found empathy for this nippy wonderland , and their very blood congealed in the tracks of there healing discourse . At the risk of sounding over stated a truly marvelous read and reaffirmation of our indomitable capacity for love .

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2010-05-29 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]
      The inner seclusion of one's self...

    "Nothing begins, and nothing ends, That is not paid with moan; For we are born in others' pain And perish in our own."
    Author: Francis Thompson

    Your poetry has always spoken to me in a different light than most. I sat here and thumbed through the comments to find out that...I'm on a totally different wavelength than 90% of what's here.

    This poem was tragically painful for me, due to my description given in the opening line of this comment.

    There was no warmth I felt the entire time reading this through. It was more-less synonymous to watching the implosion of Love (or some homonymic)

    Inverted Big Bang Theory? No?
    Anyhow another splendid read.

    Tomas
    | Posted on 2010-02-26 00:00:00 | by Loquacious Mind | [ Reply to This ]
      i can see why some would see this as fitzgerald or for that matter cs lewis and yes, it does have a classical feel and yes, i suppose i should start to read donne...

    i should start to read a lot of stuff really and even better, maybe finish it.

    you are become a lot more accessible in this piece when i compare the style and content to some of your other work - and that is not a bad thing. more accessible but in a non-prostitute way.

    that said, there is still enough for the serious-minded reader both in the language and the form and whilst yes,the language is rich, it suits the subject matter well.

    i see this as the antithesis of what most would see as love: warmth; moist warmth and warm moistness yet somehow you have made it work, because there is no reason why creatures that are cold in the cold can't find the same sort of love - but for warm, read cold...

    yes stylised and yes new romantic but i like it for its relative candour and accessibility and its adherence to the idea.

    mange tout.

    k
    | Posted on 2010-02-23 00:00:00 | by Awkward | [ Reply to This ]
      Beautifully written. Alyrose has it right, those sonics are fantastic, dear! That repitition of the "mmmm" sound is reminescent of two lovers but in an interesting way. It is much harder (edgier, perhaps). It was vaguely like a mortician preparing a body in the beginning- I quite like it. So the word congealing did not bother me quite like everyone else. True, it lacks the common even "poetic" attributes of love but this is not meant to be a pretty or fragile poem. I am in love with its sheer ugliness. This sharpness and intrigue it creates are magnetic in a nearly hostile sort of way. I love it. And please understand that I very much respect the opinions of Mr. Barlow and the lovely Lady, and normally I would agree, but I think this is well-written in many ways.
    Clover
    | Posted on 2010-01-31 00:00:00 | by clovernfoxglove | [ Reply to This ]
      This is gorgeous.

    The wintry cold castle of ice was etched wide and thin, I thought, and her shoulders in the middle, and it's just that you are being sparse with punctuation, but maybe I'm wrong and it is the shoulders...

    not quite frozen yet, like the rest is killer :)

    five fingers so it's two hands...

    gnnnnnnnnnnnnn
    (That is a word. I know so)

    Otherworldy is right, and elusive and sharp both at once, which your choice of painting fits perfectly- the detail in it, but it is a back, so the woman remains mysterious.

    And classic is right, too.

    Elusive, like mist with ice-sharp edges.

    The sonics in this are great:

    malformations, maculations...fingers...entered...welcome
    you know?

    There is a quiet and lilting rhythm in this.

    I want you to change 'wonderland' to something else, though for no reason that I could say. Perhaps it jars as I read this, a little, brings too much attention to itself in that way; but no one else has said it, so maybe I should be ignored.

    And the congealing- too much it makes me think of blood or fat in a pan, it doesn't have the sharp softness of the rest.

    Evermore. How gloriously obsolete. Yessir.

    :)

    | Posted on 2010-01-31 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ]
      Dare I?

    :)

    Okay...

    1) 'whose entrance her shoulder marked/ was etched wide and thin'

    I am not a fan of inverted sentences. It is not natural at this point in time, to me, and then I wonder if I am reading things wrong. Are you saying, essentially: 'her shoulder marked an entrance etched wide and thin'? Or 'the entrance marked her shoulder that was etched wide and thin'?

    What is etched wide and thin, I suppose, is what I'm asking...?

    2) the parenthetical [caressed] seems unnecessary or did I miss something?

    3) and 'congealing' -- I agree with Barlow. Congealing makes me think of jello. Damn word association.

    Anyhoo...maybe 'forever ice-bound/within this castle, floating...'

    Or maybe something simple as 'forever holding them' as the poem has already provided imagery of ice, and the subsequent use of 'floating' implies not-quite-frozen.

    As you might guess, this is my favorite post of yours thus far. Obviously by topic, a telling of fate, love, but also I find your word usage less inflated and your imagery more so. It is a beautiful balance of sharp words in soft phrasing. The poem is also very concise and quite beautiful. It has a classic lit tone to it.

    Brings to mind a bit of Donne, snow globes and a certain story by Fitzgerald that I can't quite remember the title of where a girl gets lost in an ice castle.

    I hope that was helpful to some degree.

    -Emeya
    | Posted on 2010-01-31 00:00:00 | by Lady of Shalott | [ Reply to This ]
      i like this one, marc.

    nice blend of you and restraint, but concentrated in its intensity.

    in many ways i don't think 'congealing' sounds like the right word. and yet you don't want something as simple as thawing.

    i know there's an answer to that one, in nature or a laboratory. yes. but right now it escapes me.

    and i find this quite otherworldly, cold and with a quiet ferocity that suffices for warmly.
    | Posted on 2010-01-31 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ]


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