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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Carousel memoriesdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Linzi
    ASL Info:    24.f.wales
    Elite Ratio:    5.91 - 80/100/94
    Words: 207
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 513
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1500



    Description:
       


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

    dotsCarousel memoriesdots
    -------------------------------------------



    Leaf strewn floor
    of stickiness,
    faded crisp packets,
    and popcorn boxes,
    dated newspapers greased
    to the ground.
    I used to live among you.

    What changed?
    I did.
    I guess I left my childhood to rest
    in a cobwebbed box
    in the attic
    of memory.

    I stumbled on you today,
    when I was having a clear out.
    You shivered
    with the disturbance.

    Dust rose to the air
    like a phantom blanket,
    time dissipating
    around me.

    Dare I look?

    The box is
    ripped in the corners,
    sharp mole claws
    scratched
    at sellotaped seams
    hinting at dreams
    Iíve visited lately.

    Last night
    I dreamt of the carousel horses
    and their freshly painted
    clown teeth
    that played our favourite song.

    You said they were smiling
    but actually
    they were jeering at secrets
    straight from the horses mouth.

    Together,
    we bounced around.
    My hair got messy
    my clothes disarrayed
    and tangled.

    The faster we spun
    the tighter I clung
    to the pole
    that crumbled paint into my sweaty palms.
    The black cracks in
    my golden years
    were all I that saw.

    Though kaleidoscope colours bleed
    long into the night.




    Submitted on 2011-12-15 03:04:09     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I reread it several times, each time I was drawn to a different line. Finally, I settled on:

    The faster we spun
    the tighter I clung
    to the pole
    that crumbled paint into my sweaty palms.
    The black cracks in
    my golden years
    were all I that saw.

    Those are some of the most potent lines I've read for some time. It says, to me, that you can't help but dwell on the things you shouldn't. Maybe I'm just seeing reflections that aren't there though. Thanks for the great read! It's going in my faves.
    | Posted on 2012-04-23 00:00:00 | by Phall | [ Reply to This ]


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