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    dots Submission Name: Skydots

    Author: Outlaw
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 510/413/195
    Words: 240
    Class/Type: Poetry/Depressed
    Total Views: 673
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1508

       I find it odd.... but you who have left us writers, you who are ever so far, you are the scar of my writing... on this world.

    you and solitude are almost as good friends as me and... what?

    no technical comments please... just discuss things if they ever so frightfully approach your mind. I wish here only to offer an empty space between two words...

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


    At first glance, you’ll see blue.
    You might see white, even dabs and drabs
    of grey – gray like an old woman sagging
    raging up a storm, and thundering moods.
    And yet, every time, she’ll never fail to ensconce
    you, take you away from your feet into a rapture
    present you with a story of endless chapters
    telling you nothing of raining frogs, illness…
    it isn’t, in fact, her magic at work to bewitch –
    rather it is that you know, without knowing that you do
    how deep she is, of character, of perspicuous beauty
    that instills in you a deeper kind of affinity
    towards her promise of forever, of deep sealed
    innociduous stars exploding of passion (in the darkness of nothing,
    she is so alone there, out there, away from here).
    She’s always been there to watch over you,
    you’ve always known how alone she is
    (as did your predecessors, they too in love
    with her… she is an appeal to our nature).
    Ponder it, her solitude, provide her a husband
    these thoughts you think, slowly looking away
    slowly forgetting her way, going on about your day.
    then, yet again, you offer another glance,
    and again, you see a bit of blue, only darker
    only brooding, sometimes an off green,
    so clear when near yet afar so shrouded.
    And yet, every time he’ll never fail to ensconce
    you; no the sea will never fail
    with his horizon of promises.

    Submitted on 2010-02-04 12:00:13     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I'm reminded of Wicca or Paganism or just general Occultism here. There's a whole section of it that's dedicated to aura reading. Each color describes a different "sense of being" or presence which inhabits the person. So blue, for example, meant the person had a calming, soothing presence. Yellow was excitable, white meant saintly or holy and purple was mystical. Anyway, aside from all the bullcrap, the aura is actually just your eyes trying to focus on someone in the light. Seriously, we've all seen auras and they're usually blue. Try it, it's not that fun.
    And the woman is merely the Goddess. They don't have a God, they praise either a Goddess which they've seen or made up, or Mother Nature. The rituals are nice though and some of their abilities are really interesting, like astral projecting, dream interpretations, palm/rune/tea/tarot readings. But you have to be superstitious to take a liking to it all.
    Yeah. Lots to consider here, and I don't really feel lost thinking about all the depths.
    | Posted on 2010-07-04 00:00:00 | by JenFlynn | [ Reply to This ]
      this is very pretty. romantic even. sad in a way. almost unrequited.

    not much, i know.

    but i do read ya. (smile).
    | Posted on 2010-02-16 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]
      i've already read this, and commented on it, why would i leave another comment for the void?

    i believe i even liked this, and said as much?

    liked the back one too, and said as much,
    liked you too and said as much.

    these were conversations with the void. (or two stones making light)

    | Posted on 2010-02-04 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ]

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