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    dots Submission Name: A Small Warzone in The frontYarddots

    Author: colbybradshaw
    ASL Info:    24,deep south, u.s
    Elite Ratio:    3.61 - 19/19/29
    Words: 293
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 476
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2067

       It was a sunny day, the door was open, i wrote this thing down. when i get tired of reading i start writing, or vice versa. This is purely cerebral, not as a thing of beauty should it be looked upon, somethings are beautiful in the arrogance and angst and irritation and ugliness that they exhibit. Self dissection is a painful business.

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

    dotsA Small Warzone in The frontYarddots

    We lie in the grass,
    Discussing Eugenics,
    Like dogs or apes,
    We bask in the sunlight,
    our eyes half lidded with the animal pleasure of being,
    We are successful escape artist,
    we are acrobats dangling precipitously over the worlds over eaten and mis digested ideaologies,
    We reek of beauty,
    we reek of shame,
    we reek of the promise the day holds,
    the bars of light,
    the breeze that comes from nothing,
    goes to nowhere,
    I can smell it on our skin,
    the pheromones,
    pointlessly emitted,
    the beast inside,
    opulently manifesting itself outwardly,
    and unconsciously,
    we rub the doubt from our eyes like corneal blockage,
    and yet the truth is still a vapid train track we cannot stay balanced on,
    we gaze myopically towards the next step we take,
    just before we fall and develop more thoroughly our synaptic scarrifacation,
    this is where bifurcation begins,
    we part company with gentle curses,
    and accusations that we know will never be true,
    our eyes downward,
    how is it that we even grazed one another,
    nothing is fated,
    everything is predestined,
    Even your personality must evolve,
    if you wish to escape the static,
    if you wish to embrace the flux,
    the true nature,
    to fight your ID like a villain,
    armed with a double edged and serrated thing of beauty,
    a duel to the death,
    the death that redeems and brings life,
    a thing of hideous beauty,
    the nature of the beast uncovered,
    the marble pedestal done away with,
    the corpse exhumed,
    the evidence measured,
    every trifle made apparent,
    every lie made into an inconvenient semantic conversational piece,
    spit out of mouths with nothing better to do,
    let us just move on,
    even at our lowest,
    we are still at our best.

    Submitted on 2010-03-06 14:45:54     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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