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    dots Submission Name: Tonguesdots

    Author: Soul-Hugger
    ASL Info:    33/F/Canada
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 409/222/66
    Words: 212
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1288
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1392

       Struggling with spirituality. Although I would like to turn my life over, there are things life has taught me (truths?) that I cannot forget. Just a poem sketch I put down this morning.

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


    I sit at the altar crying;
    Prompted by some inner urge.
    My body rocks unconsciously
    As I wail silently and try to pour out my soul.
    You speak in tongues,
    Your jumbled voices wrapped around me;
    Hands placed gently on me,
    Hands raised,
    And you tell me to let go.
    I can nearly reach the place where your spirit
    Sits waiting,
    But my burning fingers refuse to stretch
    All the way to heaven.
    I call out softly and whisper to
    The God I want to know
    But I cannot confess my sins in front of you.
    My mind wanders as the minutes drain away,
    Touching back over years
    That pull aside like curtains;
    Revealing pain and sorrow, fatalism
    And anger intertwined;
    Questions stir inside my overbrimming soul.
    Each word comes harder now,
    Sticking in my throat;
    I cannot scream unselfconsciously like you do.
    As I consider the hands around me,
    I feel like I'm interrupting
    Some kind of critical mass...
    (Do you know what a critical mass is?)
    The universe held on fragile silver cords;
    Hung restlessly and cut off from its source..
    Do you see the things I do?
    Is my salvation hinged
    On one defining moment
    That refuses to come?
    One human spirit waits for love.

    Submitted on 2010-02-11 11:43:34     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      When in doubt about things deemed "Christian", it doesn't hurt to see what their own Bible says about it.


    I know, a shameless self promotion it would seem. But I had it handy.

    | Posted on 2010-09-15 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      This is, as Isabella says, “so honest. so absolutely honest. so perfectly and beautifully human.” The poem made me cry. The feeling of fragmentation in this poem captures your confusion brilliantly. These are sharp and succinct, love the metaphor, life as drama, death, so many classic metaphors combined into one potent one.
    Touching back over years
    That pull aside like curtains;
    Revealing pain and sorrow, fatalism

    These lines are beautiful too, seems if the persona is recalling someone they feel to be purer/better/younger in their spirit.
    Each word comes harder now,
    Sticking in my throat;
    I cannot scream unselfconsciously like you do.

    An incredible poem
    | Posted on 2010-05-24 00:00:00 | by Speacenik | [ Reply to This ]
      consider this a place-holder.

    i would like to come back and tell you why i find this so achingly heartfelt.

    i will need to take a bit more time to sort out my thoughts about it all.

    it's just that this is so honest. so absolutely honest. so perfectly and beautifuly human.

    | Posted on 2010-02-12 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]
      The Universe hanging restlessly, cut off from its source ... Those are the lines which got to me!

    I have a theory about this type of poem: it is an important statement of a theme, upon which you could write a number of other poems in a sort of series.

    How does this theme poem break down into modules?

    (1) Down to "äll the way to heaven", it's about the social experience of religion with an enthusiastic group. I 'm suddenly curious about your people there: what are their individual stories? How did they find each other? Do they really all believe exactly the same thing, or are they affirming and committing to that for the sake of BEING a group? Then I had the philosophical thought that perhaps this is the only spiritual path for ordinary people, since a human can't do anything that matters alone. I mean, anything one does alone doesn't really matter, no matter how much noise it makes!

    (2)Then you start talking to divinity, admitting that your consciousness can't reach to heaven. This is an experience of failure which could be explored in metaphors, stories, etc, as a theme of its own.

    (3)Then there are two fantastically significant lines: I call out ... the God I want to know. This is a separate theme: How many Gods or divine characters/aspects are there, which one of those do you want to know, and can you really describe that character? Because if you can describe exactly what you want, then the path towards it becomes quite clear.

    (4) questions stirring ... they alienate you from your friends in their ecstatic worship. they seem sure of themselves, but you are not sure of yourself. Are they just dramatizing, like you will need to do in your secret uncertainties?

    (5) The Universe cut off from its source: a theme for many tropes, many ways of showing this vast, vast problem in all its horror.

    (6)One defining moment: when the love that you're waiting for shall arrive, that would be the defining moment. Here is something fierce and difficult to write about; for it is easy to see how love is something that we need to go first with. But if so, does God depend on us doing it all ourselves? What do the scriptures say? So... the last lines of this poem provide the most difficult theme, but the several themes that you brought together, above the last lines, can stand each in their own right as topics for poetry.

    Uh - I'm not sure if any of my remarks here are offensive; but they aren't meant to be. You and I do different worship, maybe, but here I'm just talking about how we generate our poems - and a comment on this poem needs to remark on the collection of themes which it contains!
    | Posted on 2010-02-11 00:00:00 | by Glen Bowman | [ Reply to This ]

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