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    dots Submission Name: aliens or angelsdots

    Author: JanePlane
    ASL Info:    125/F/everyplane
    Elite Ratio:    6.77 - 417/433/131
    Words: 214
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 514
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1290


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    dotsaliens or angelsdots

    this love is not about you
    it is not for or to you
    it is of you and through you

    I love through you and see
    the petty changes
    the darkness and heaviness within
    and look with love through it

    this song is not about you
    it is not for or to you
    this song sings regardless of
    you or me or the brokenness of hearts
    whether yours or mine
    or some young girl's who has
    just been abandoned by her baby's father

    we are not of this world
    none of us are
    we are aliens
    or angels
    visiting here

    we struggle to live and breathe
    use blankets to sheet ourselves
    feed ourselves foods invented not grown
    make pictures and words to describe
    what anyone could see

    dropped from sky or sprung from dirt or water
    it does not matter

    this is not our song
    it is the song of the trees
    the song of the earth and the damp ground
    we will be buried in someday
    or the ashes we will be burned into
    or the decay that feeds worms

    it does not matter to the song
    it is so much greater than any one feeling
    of being alone

    Submitted on 2012-01-16 17:35:36     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Awesome write. Plugged in, I think.
    | Posted on 2012-01-17 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      it is human to forget we are human. we would never know the birds if we hadn't forgotten, the smell of a flower wouldn't seem so important, it would be something aesthetic and with no purpose, if we painted of something beside these miss associations. we break apart into groups for how we have extended, the nomenclature belongs to the scientists while our hearts make up the rest. we are always caught on a nervous chest. bouncing the body into imagined skies until we realize the body was imagined, and find ourselves home again, in front of a computer we call paper, or in front of a paper we call the world as we slip into remembering the things we'd forgotten when we didn't realize that we are free. to wander around the universe with no concept of gravity to stop us from flying, to warp between realities because some man had this theory, that there are these worlds we layer, even though i consider it all poetry. there's no verse here really, perverted as it seems to be naked as gray aliens. pointless as we are, walk about pens that meet in invisible places.

    are we angels today, are we our real names or are we those parts the rest of the world has forgotten. it's archaic, but an arcade at the same time. playing this game that we don't mean to be part of, polishing the surface to work down to the depth of these parallel worlds. deciding that it is human regardless.

    if i called you my lord would you make me saint compromise, we'd shorthand our bibles and ask for a smaller light, one we could hold or keep as a key chain, one that wouldn't question if faith isn't sane, because looking around i've found seldom answers they only seem to match the most common of problems. it's not all that bad this common cold plague, we should knock on some wood and build up a stage, scream this is freedom when truth goes a way, and sell all the shelling we thought not to save. cuz i am like you are like we woven fabrics of tattered torn dolls that once sat on the shelf, our of the world that's a paralell universe, looking for logic to call us with help. smoldering chivalry come back to guide us, to make it past the last drain that sucked us back down, damned be those devils but who has the time for them, dogs such as demons need only trained out. howl at the wind if you need be a wolf, cry like a river for the oceans inside, it may never mean heaven but maybe all that means is to let down the gueard that which keeps it outside.

    this is perfectly human......
    | Posted on 2012-01-17 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ]
      wow this is heavy...

    we borrow emotions good or bad...it isn't really about us...the love or the unlove is not really about us or for us...

    we are temporary as feelings whether those feelings are alien to us and scary..or we feel guardian angels protecting us...

    i like the part of the young girl abandoned by her baby's father...

    just as love will come to us...it will abandon us just as fast...

    it is not something we can count on...

    sort of like aliens if we believe in them..

    friends or foe? no idea...we will find out only with contact...but the contact will be ephemeral...

    | Posted on 2012-01-17 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      The disassociation from that Oneness can be terrifying.
    I think all strive, however secretly, to be a part of it.
    Yet so many feel so disconnected and alone.

    Including myself.
    | Posted on 2012-01-17 00:00:00 | by trinityfinger | [ Reply to This ]

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