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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Old Mandots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Clayman
    ASL Info:    28 - getting late
    Elite Ratio:    6.34 - 609/327/167
    Words: 94
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 603
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 675



    Description:
       


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

    dotsOld Mandots
    -------------------------------------------


    The sleeper rests, it dreams
    inside you, stirring the flowers
    and bows, awakening love
    upon waking up anew.

    The watcher sees, it looks
    into you, counting the stars
    and halos, smiling at you,
    gazing at beauty and divinity.

    The knower knows, it thinks
    of the soul inside, contemplating
    ways to make laughter grow
    so feelings cannot hide.

    The father nods, grinning wide
    as he lets His children out
    to play amongst the tides of day,
    rooting love to their soles
    as a reminder of closeness,
    a secured promise...

    Svw




    Submitted on 2011-11-02 11:30:56     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Hello Clayman:

    I think that it is a clever way of describing the one person who is discovered at the end...the father and then the son. There are societal pressures that sometimes or often in families will not allow the sleeper to sleep, the watcher to watch, the knower to know. However, you paint a vivid picture of a relationship between the father and his son. A relationship that has long been neglected in modern homes and families. I got a warm feeling, though suspenseful, but the ending speaks volumes of the first three stanzas. Great write.

    Caramel
    | Posted on 2011-11-03 00:00:00 | by CaramelCandy | [ Reply to This ]
      i am reminded of Cat Stevens' "Father and Son"

    "it's not time to make a change/ just relax take it easy, you're still young that's your fault/ there's so much you have to learn."

    and the poem reminds me of a father watching a son grow...as he learns about love, learns about God and spirituality, learns how to enjoy life and be truthful....and to find the humor in it...

    he lets the children out to play in the tides...and doesn't know when they will come in...life's tide rides up on a beach of aging...and the son will become a father...and the process maintains.

    love this one

    jacob
    | Posted on 2011-11-02 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      The first persona you portrayed, here, the "sleeper" instantly reminded me of Dune. I almost thought you were getting at it too, into the second strophe, because of the whole seer bit. There's a lot of talk, at least in the original book with the bene gesserit, of what they call the litany of fear, and looking towards the inside to a place that shall not be seen. There are much stronger tones of psychology, though, in what I'm talking about than there seems to be in your poem (which leads me to conclude that you're probably not meaning to hint at what I'm talking about).

    It's bizarre that there are so many social construct in your poem, at least in the way I am reading it. And in that sense it could be a very powerful comment on the fact of their existence. In any case,

    Marc.
    | Posted on 2011-11-02 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ]


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