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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Journal: A Daydots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Soul-Hugger
    ASL Info:    33/F/Canada
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 401/217/62
    Words: 216
    Class/Type: Random Thoughts/Misc
    Total Views: 604
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1261



    Description:
       A journal entry from a few months ago.


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

    dotsJournal: A Daydots
    -------------------------------------------


    12:45

    The sun is a veiled sphere in a grey tuft of sky.
    I am on my lunch break and it takes a minute to remember I am alive. The outdoor air is healing. The earth is a sphere too; thoughts coiled like a length of telephone wire or the tender, furled heads of spring-green ferns. This, too, was once a spore.

    4:19 p.m.

    The rush before going home. People pour in to ask questions whose answers have become lost these hours of pretending.

    5:45 p.m.

    I am not a pretender. I am emptied of all possible outcomes; the only reality now what stares at me from the cooking pot, milk bubbling and thickening in a round metal sea, curls of hot steam bathing my face.

    6:30 p.m.

    a poem re-aligns my perspective, a book re-captures that free-falling flight into all that is not me. Here there are no expectations.

    7:37 p.m.

    Never thought I was cut out for the 9-5. No matter how adaptable I can be, there are only so many surfaces, planes, perfectly round holes. I do not fit. I do not fit.

    7:46 p.m.

    My supper has gone cold. It's sticky and congealed and conveniently bowl-shaped. The bowl is hot.




    Submitted on 2011-07-29 12:00:21     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I really just like this. Each section, the curling theme. The rounding on, swinging away from, & coming back to.

    & we take things in and i don't think that it's that we need to understand them, the thought is, can be, that we do, but eventually i think that the answers become themselves. or, that is what i am finding.

    that's most likely a bit confusing or mute. i'm saying that with time that thing we were bursting to know becomes a part of us, like wisdom & i think that says something about patience as much as it does about finding.

    like

    your hot bowl. it makes me think of the earth. & that
    all things are in nature. & that a person's evolution is a slow and difficult equation to quantify
    or to measure.

    this woman, she argues, and from the experience she comes to know.

    and that makes me think about how cognitive questions or spiritual questions are really stimuli for growth. that's experimental or scientific, a bit bloody dry. i like the way she learns, looks, accepts herself.

    and your curls things. tree rings, the orbiting of planets, ripples seasons, circles, ferns, human' orbiting, layers of sediment in the ground, the round nature of the earth, tree rings, human orbitings. it's good to go.
    | Posted on 2011-09-17 00:00:00 | by lameboyofhameln | [ Reply to This ]
      I love how you take your day and turn it into this abstract piece; a true talent, and a hell of a catharsis.

    This "taking us through the day" in such a poetic tone, is really cool. I love the serpation of time to give this a really pieced out feeling; filling in the gaps with different shades of grey.
    | Posted on 2011-08-14 00:00:00 | by OneDarkFlame92 | [ Reply to This ]
      I really loved this. It was very visceral and present. A play-by-play of your day and your thoughts. Very clever and very beautiful.
    I'm truly sorry that I don't have a wise or clever insight to give you. All I know is that this write definitely struck a chord with me.
    The format you chose made this incredibly powerful for me. It would be absolutely lovely to see more of this format from you.
    | Posted on 2011-08-07 00:00:00 | by Rainwater | [ Reply to This ]
      i don't fit in either....no 9 to fiver here either...

    and life just seems to be like a premade dinner anymore...
    just microwave the important moments...

    don't savor them though, just gobble them down...

    what a rut.


    jacob
    | Posted on 2011-07-29 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]


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