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    dots Submission Name: 05/28 - 06/21dots

    Author: Outlaw
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 513/417/196
    Words: 393
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1626
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2708

       These are two of the many poems I wrote on my trip to Europe. Any "her" or "she" in these refer to whatever city in Spain that I was in. There are more, but they're in french and so I don't really want to be uselessly insulted over posting such profanity.

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

    dots05/28 - 06/21dots

    IV. façade

    A wall of anonymity arises as faces withstand
    the gazes of onlookers, amazed
    at the message of a commodity:
    that free art for free could be
    a desire of the people;
    was a desire of the people
    in a place afraid of the crimes carried
    in the perfume of her redolence - regular passerbys
    molested with eyes that could sit idly by in
    a culture still asleep to its discrimination of its daughters
    or yet pilfered by the mindset which impoverishes
    this country, her country, through the free reign
    within the free market.


    Her breasts adorn beaches of desire
    the silk of her vendors stacked along streets
    her streets, like idol worshipers congregated
    around the skirts of her temples. I wander,
    wanting, already lost in the endless thread of her hair
    hoping to end up on the cusp of the little isle
    where her sylphs go; and this, inside of them, is my fantasy.
    Her tongue drives sanity from its throne
    a distant cousin to every language and yet unspoken -
    the passion it contains swims ever so lucidly,
    deeper into the murky depths on my mind.
    the little waves follow behind, leaving an inescapable relish
    a certain lullaby of sleepy wanton wonders.

    V. La plage des nues

    Nudity in such abundance that what clothes
    there was seemed seethrough: limbs
    at times awkwardly together in their march
    of the body's will and at others, lagging
    like twisted branches of decay. Borne in their copiousness
    a certain disgusting beauty about the body's fragility -
    a secret that sits right before us, daringly.
    On sand, corpses writhed and simmered
    left in a great exodus by their minds, left behind
    in a fickle pursuit of recreation. She fancies the attention
    the ripe abdomens of men with no greater worry
    than spending their allowances.


    Silver abode, turquoise loins and golden flames
    rolling down smooth sculptures and hidden ivory.
    Dare I see dragons and butterflies mate where hands
    could only caress in adoration and veneration
    of skin, flesh and their haphazard union with fresh
    tones of light made thin enough to be captured
    anchored and crowning a divine sight...
    an angelic sign, emblem of deliquescent infatuation?

    The sun kissed parchedness of her lips
       drive mine to moistness.

    Submitted on 2012-06-24 03:28:57     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Silver abode, turquoise loins and golden flames
    i wish you'd used the serial comma here. it killed the whole poem for me.
    | Posted on 2012-08-20 00:00:00 | by squeezebox | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow, with the concept of "she" being cities, it helped bring this alive. It's almost as if with every word written you can hear the bustling of busy people or see those who sit and stare at those who pass by.

    "Already lost in the endless thread of her hair"

    That brings to mind endlessly turning streets, that within each bend of her "curls" a new adventure is within reach. Almost as if you could transport yourself to the beautiful days of the 1800s and see how the buildings stood then, to this day...(i think I'm going off track but I'm sure you may somewhat know what I'm trying to say :D)

    "a certain lullaby of sleepy wanton wonders."

    I could almost use that as my favorite quote on here (if only it would allow me to update).

    "V. La plage des nues"

    instead of copying that whole stanza I'll just use that as a basis of reference. I love how that stanza brings to mind the thought of mortality. It brings out thoughts of laughter and overly exposed tan skin on patrons who are overweight or even toned to perfection. It brings to mind naked buildings with their eyes busted open through rotted shutters...I love how your poem twists things and allows you to expand and contract in different ways. Almost as if each person will walk away with a different view of what you've written...breathtaking …beautiful…
    "The sun kissed parchedness of her lips
    drive mine to moistness."

    I have to admit you may have found yourself a fan. Though an oddly weird one at that, I could almost feel sorry for you.

    I have a love of history, from architects to anything abroad. What lies outside my window and far out of reach, either by time or space fascinates me. I've read a book called "The Historian" and you've seem to capture the senses as that book as done.

    I can't critique, even if I tried (as of now I'm not bothering). I'm impressed, though being as a specter behind a monitor, it may not mean as much as if I was someone you knew personally. Either way, I'm in love with this piece.

    | Posted on 2012-07-16 00:00:00 | by ARoseyTint | [ Reply to This ]
      these are masterful in metaphor...the "she" the "her" referring both to cities and an enticing woman---

    being turned on by the sights, being engaged in romantic interlude with teh beautiful towns...

    being driven to moistness...in tears but also aroused by the surroundings, spending money like we would on a woman in order to gain her attentions and affections...

    a love affair with the environment produced some really clever, visual and passionate reaction in words.

    as with a beautiful creature walking by, i took more than one salacious look.

    this is why i like this site so much...i find so much inspiration in the words of others---
    i feel there will be a reaction to these pieces happening very soon..

    thank you for these.

    | Posted on 2012-06-24 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ]

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