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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: magentadots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Clayman
    ASL Info:    28 - getting late
    Elite Ratio:    6.34 - 609/327/167
    Words: 58
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 576
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 383



    Description:
       


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

    dotsmagentadots
    -------------------------------------------


    I look to the feinted sky and
    realize it only exists because we
    are blue enough to keep it up
    in this magenta world,
    this bruise

    draped upon our shoulders to
    remind us it's okay to stand
    for something,
    even if just to discover that madness
    does not exist
    if it is embraced fully..

    Svw




    Submitted on 2011-10-11 07:15:07     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      i really like this. a lot.

    i think breathing sometimes is a difficult in itself. and the ache of life can be like a bruise. but to stand for something takes purpose, even through the pain. even through the burden and the heaviness that it can bring.

    i was just telling my 6 year old friend that life is full of moments that aren't always pleasant. it is not all peaches and cream and happiness. i think she is starting to get the jist of it which makes me somewhat sad in a sense. but it is the reality of it all.

    and weirdly enough ache comes with both good and bad.

    anyhoo...

    nice write.
    | Posted on 2011-10-11 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]
      Having embraced my own madness, I really like this one. Plus of course with a name like blue monk I naturally identify with the blue part. This is what I appreciate as the essence of poetry.
    | Posted on 2011-10-11 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      nice paradox of "being blue enough to hold up the sky"

    and also if we are all crazy, then no one will notice....like the gravedigger in Hamlet saying, "
    they sent him off to England cause he is mad/ but if he regain his wits there it won't matter/ cause there they are as mad as he"

    clever piece...the bruised red world...red from hurt, red from passion...the rose wilts...and we become crazy with grief.

    jacob
    | Posted on 2011-10-11 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]


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