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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Pale, Like Ghostsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: JanePlane
    ASL Info:    125/F/everyplane
    Elite Ratio:    6.76 - 415/433/130
    Words: 85
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 554
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 586



    Description:
       


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

    dotsPale, Like Ghostsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    hands pale, like ghosts
    circle tree shadows
    beneath filtered rays of sun

    turn to white moths
    flutter powder-winged
    then become soft-skinned again
    and arch

    an alabaster ballet
    stone-still yet fluid

    a sigh and a song in one

    this is the music
    of forest and breath
    this is the crunch of leaves
    that I miss

    and you

    I don't miss

    you

    not anymore

    I miss the you
    you were before




    Submitted on 2012-06-16 03:16:01     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Past loves do melt away like ghosts, yet come back to haunt us at the most inopportune times. Your white moth symbology worked perfectly here to create a mood...

    Nitpicky hat on: The language you use here is sparse and clipped in syntax, overall. The only part where it didn't fit was "then become soft-skinned again" - would omitting this completely make this tighter without losing the essence and mood? Just a thought.

    "an alabaster ballet
    stone-still yet fluid"

    ^Wonderful.
    | Posted on 2012-06-20 00:00:00 | by trinityfinger | [ Reply to This ]
      this piece sums up my feelings at this present time.
    for the last 8 months i have worked above and beyond the call of duty and for pretty much nothing. last week i started a new job.

    people asked me if i was sad to have left my old workplace. i am not sad. i am not sad because it is not the place i loved working anymore. the people i love who still work there i will always keep in touch with but there is no sadness in leaving them because i know i will see them. but the place.. it is not what it was when i loved working there... its a completely different place... one i do not recognize... one i will never miss.

    i appreciate that i can put myself into this piece in my own context. i like it when writers allow enough room for the reader to absorb themselves into the subject matter kinda like osmosis..

    a sigh and a song in one.
    | Posted on 2012-06-18 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
      this is so william carlos williams now...with the changes...nicely cut, almost enhanced the rhythm by doing that, rather than adversely affecting it...

    less words create a really foot stomping effect often enough..

    even better than before, Jane...

    in my opinion...

    jacob
    | Posted on 2012-06-16 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      i like the double use for "crunch of leaves"


    i miss you walking as the person i knew before, the "crunch" the recognizable sound...now when you walk i don't recognize you...and i don't miss this new you...it's a different sound.

    but i also see "crunch" as love snapped in a way...and my emotions and heart snapped by what you did to me.

    there is a softness, a peacefulness presented by this piece that is shattered by disillusion and disappointment...the ghosts that could be comforting spirits exist early in the piece and then turn scary, and i want to turn away from them.

    my only suggestion would be in the first stanza....changing "circling" to "circle" might be stronger...and keep a parallel feeling to the action in the second stanza.

    but wow...you had me right in the middle of this forest and i could see my breath in the coldness that was created by the other person to whom the speaker seems to be referring.

    jacob
    | Posted on 2012-06-16 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]
      You have inspired me to try to write again, seriously this touched so many parts of me I almost feel molested. Renewed my beliefs in the eternal human spirit, revisited the flamboyant fantasies of my youth, reminded me to enjoy the ephemeral exigence of corporeally preternatural. Thanks so much, that was great fun!!

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2012-06-16 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]


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