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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Mary and Me and the Devil Makes Threedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: JanePlane
    ASL Info:    125/F/everyplane
    Elite Ratio:    6.76 - 415/433/130
    Words: 67
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 408
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 434



    Description:
       


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    dotsMary and Me and the Devil Makes Threedots
    -------------------------------------------


    the words no longer come in
    torrent
    eroding sharp rocks
    down to shiny pebbles
    glittering sand

    a desert.

    I am left without a cross to bear.
    I am left with only bloody bandages
    and time.

    the steady crawl of a tortoise
    shelled from the sun.

    I long to be a vessel
    again.
    I long to be the cradle of Christ.




    Submitted on 2012-01-26 17:04:20     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      the thudding ache is worse than the fire and brimstone. all alone with no eulogy for a world bitter and confusing as the epidemiology it would take to understand. we ever scream anomaly missing the beauty of normality. hiding in the shadows light created and desecrated by the concepts of smaller pieces. look too closely.....and the smaller world becomes bigger. over and over it expands. some would call it hell, but they would be fools, to not call it heaven just the same. there is no royal eclipse or perfect trail of gold flakes. diamond dust bleeds the lung and holds the heartache of impossibility. so why not dance to know that christ is born in the hearts of all humans. by singular name or by degree ever expansive. accept light as a spectrum. listen to shadow.
    | Posted on 2012-02-03 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ]
      what a great piece, really deep, really insightful.
    | Posted on 2012-01-30 00:00:00 | by BevRead | [ Reply to This ]
      It was quite good the way you took the rocks, smoothed them into pebbles, and then grind them all to sand
    to form the desert in which you walk
    without a cross to bear


    A very clever progression

    Matt
    | Posted on 2012-01-28 00:00:00 | by OneDarkFlame92 | [ Reply to This ]
      this made me think of mary magdelene...

    wanting to be a vessel again...strayed, just the bloody bandages to show for the cross she has born...but in some ways i really like her...she is flawed but so real...

    and most of us fall to temptation but can find our way back to ....well whatever that is for each of us...

    we judge too much. we need to have compassion, kindness and understanding.

    that is how we are really a "vessel"

    and yes ....what Lloyd said think you meant "desert"

    a really good piece...

    jacob
    | Posted on 2012-01-27 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      Dessert or desert? One eats a dessert while desert could be desert2. vb. 1. (tr) to leave or abandon (a person, place, etc.) without intending to return, esp in violation of a duty, promise, or obligation or
    "A desert is a landscape or region that receives an extremely low amount of precipitation, less than enough to support growth of most plants."

    BTW, religious topics are apparently poor at drawing comments here.

    Mother (Saint) Teresa reported feeling abandoned by God at times which surprised many but St. John of the Cross wrote about this kind of thing in Dark Night of the Soul so it should surprise less than affirm that something is going on that is in a real sense "right".

    Personally, I suspect this is God's way of kicking one back into this material world after having his or her neurons crackled from being close longer than might be healthy if one is to continue life as a sane mortal for some time yet. Obviously there's more work to do which cannot be done if one continues as moonstruck paralyzed by an awesome experience of some kind which might also be interpreted by others as madness as opposed to anything divine.

    Also there's this term I like to use, "for the benefit of confusion". For one to believe is good and respectable, but to actually know... well, that's why we call it a mystery. I suspect it's a "free-will" kind of thing, or at least for the continuing illusion thereof.
    | Posted on 2012-01-27 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]


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