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    dots Submission Name: Mother, Me (In Two Acts)dots

    Author: Shadowstar13
    Elite Ratio:    4.73 - 191/191/129
    Words: 408
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 633
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2738


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

    dotsMother, Me (In Two Acts)dots

    I. (You Sound Just Like Your)


    Don't say I'm like her.
    I know we have the same Aphrodite's hair, although hers is surely not that garish shade of platinum naturally
    and mine is more like autumn wheat than Celine Dion's death.
    I know her German freckles mimic my Irish ones,
    and I'm sure at one point
    she had a frame similar to mine
    (if shorter):
    ridiculous curves
    for our respective ages
    but luckily
    in all the right places.

    But really
    our eyes reflect vastly different lies
    and the french-speaking social studies teacher
    can never truly come face-to-face
    with the bastardized spanish-dabbling theater minor
    who dangles words
    like the other dangles chandelier earrings

    she was never a punk
    i was never a semi socialite
    she was never a butch
    i was never a true cheerleader
    she was never nuts
    and i never had that particular grace
    nor that fragrant air of heir apparent dusted lightly on her face

    our voices sound similar
    but one is normally higher with a hint of red wine and Bruce Springsteen records
    another is alto with with flavors of summer storms and lawn gnomes.

    yes, we share traits
    but God and whatever else knows
    each is separate
    and each is more
    than the sum
    of the parts.

    II. (Does This Make Me Look)

    I stare at this vacant void that is my closet

    there's an awful lot of black brimming with bruises
    though not nearly as much metal as I recall should be there
    and it seems like vestiges
    of remaining fairy-tale hair
    rest here: go in sixes
    i haven't found my sevens yet
    nor the perfect thirteens-my alter ego fears those twitches

    i don't think i could pull off boho-
    that breezy attitude on me comes off as rude
    nor can I ever ditch the leather
    but apparently there's a piece of elegance left
    in this place where I've always felt least deft
    i'm not all chains but I'm not all lace
    and the delicacy happens to hide the spiked mace.
    that's all I'm saying.

    if I told you more I might have to kill you.

    that fairytale look I'd never pull off;
    i'd so much rather run off in my knight's armor or better yet
    the page's tunic
    (and wouldn't THAT raise a few questions)

    and again, i'm too much of a bitch to pull of boho.

    Submitted on 2010-04-18 14:17:43     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Well I find it a little different from your other efforts and it also comes over very well. At my younger age I don’t have such a likeness affair with my family except with my daughters of course. Even that is limited to “you have that Nel family countenance” and “we can see you three are sisters”.
    Well I believe you will overcome these issues without needing to find “shelter” in a cave attitude or something similar.
    I think well done and luv u Jm.
    | Posted on 2010-04-20 00:00:00 | by Joachim | [ Reply to This ]
      I have this issue too, as many do, only it is my father not my mother and it kills me every time. Luckily, there are fewer and fewer people I know that ever met my father and so this cuts down on the old phrase.

    This was great to read --

    Act One: the same but different. Concerned with both what sets you apart as well as what brings you together.

    Act Two: What a riot.

    Both were just ...truly and thoroughly enjoyable. It's not often you come across that around here, and with such personality. That's what this has: personality. I also like that you took two very common sayings and spun a poem off them.

    Great stuff.

    | Posted on 2010-04-19 00:00:00 | by Lady of Shalott | [ Reply to This ]
      Sometimes I see my mother in little pieces of me in mirrors...
    that's when I stop looking.

    The more I forget, the better :)
    | Posted on 2010-04-18 00:00:00 | by Runes | [ Reply to This ]

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