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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Journalistdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: EileenToTheLeft
    ASL Info:    28/f/va
    Elite Ratio:    2.58 - 16/36/55
    Words: 242
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 566
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1550



    Description:
       


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

    dotsThe Journalistdots
    -------------------------------------------


    At night, in the dimmed life crave house
    they limp through a dance and scuffle
    with a conscience half-drowned away
    in molasses and reds.
    There's no argument left. Just the one thing
    they've grown too old to forget.
    And I sit.
    And I listen to the dried-out last breath voices
    as they fidget and speak between sips.
    Because I am tired of know-it-all bullshit.
    I am the naive journalist.
    I am the novice.
    You have to hear from the criminal ear yourself
    if you still don't have it.
    And I haven't grown that crooked edge yet.
    Oh, but I am a crook for a habit!
    The lamps hang low and make shadows,
    fingers wagging back to me on the tables.
    And my lips to this bottle,
    a sour kiss from a girl I will never catch.
    She is a carved ivory box
    and holds nothing.
    A stand in model for my 25th.
    She brews her past into my future as I
    swallow. Hell, I choke down every bit.
    And the lifers introduce themselves.
    They breathe down our necks and soak
    in the scent of a heart soon at rest.
    An exciting ritual for the stumbling dead.
    An opportunity none the less.
    I get carried away. Unconscious.
    Laid under the covers, a fresh cotton casket.
    Buried alive but not alone.
    Clothes strewn across a foreign floor.
    And here I am, still the journalist.
    Though, I cannot ever be a novice
    anymore.




    Submitted on 2011-01-24 00:02:29     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
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    ||| Comments |||
      "And I haven't grow that crooked edge yet.
    Oh, but I am a crook for a habit!"

    These lines really grabbed me & for some reason delighted me. This is great. It tells a story, & I like the progression. It is also in equal measure of inner thoughts & outer surroundings, which appealed to my imagination & cognition. It is good to know inner-thoughts, but it is even better if we are able to put those inner thoughts into the context of surroundings. I found this to well-written & interesting down to the last line. I agree with isabella too, in that it lets the reader fill in blanks & to a bit of wondering themselves. I don't have any criticism to offer.
    | Posted on 2011-01-25 00:00:00 | by Santi | [ Reply to This ]
      so i have read this for the 3rd time today and can't seem to sort my thoughts out about why i like it so much. (i am [censored] for comments most days).

    but there is something here. maybe it's the cherry popping. or the journalistic approach of getting it down/or being under cover/or being under cover and getting it down.

    maybe it's just that i like the style in which it's written. it doesn't spell everything out and leads me (the reader) to fill in the blanks a bit.

    anyhoos. since i opened this up a few times, i thought i should probably leave a few unspecifieds.

    | Posted on 2011-01-24 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]


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