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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Little Plastic Boatdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: EileenToTheLeft
    ASL Info:    28/f/va
    Elite Ratio:    2.58 - 16/36/55
    Words: 463
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 741
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3002



    Description:
       


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

    dotsLittle Plastic Boatdots
    -------------------------------------------


    You may know one.
    They stare boldly through us,
    past our skin and our bones,
    and see a little plastic boat.
    They don't see the time you swung
    through all of the monkey bars
    without letting go. Or
    the day you stopped having to
    attend speech classes after years.
    They can't hear the first time your
    father told you he loves you.
    They are carnival gunslingers,
    aiming for the race,
    convinced you will sail
    and be their champion
    of a rigged game.

    I am lined up at the bar,
    ready to take the next shot.
    "You sure are quiet"
    He is jolly and large
    and smiles a lot. He
    is going to show me everything
    about the world and these bottles
    and the exact distinction of each tile
    as I vomit on the floor.
    But for now I am floating.
    I am a child in a dress
    adorned with printed ships,
    on a swing, soaring back and forth.
    Girls are supposed to kick
    with their legs closed and
    boys with theirs open.
    That's what someone said.
    School was over and if I
    swing and look ahead, and then
    suddenly turn my sight to the left,
    my stomach sinks down.
    This is a rollercoaster, I thought.
    But when you do it too much,
    soon enough the thrill is gone.
    "Where are you at in that head?" He laughs,
    "Come on back",
    aims his gun and
    shoots me another jager bomb.

    Ah, look what we've done,
    these chains are tangled, tightly twisted.
    My feet left the ground
    and this whole body spun.
    I am sick. The motion is nauseous.
    But I do love my swing set.
    "Aren't you having fun?"
    Well, it's just...this outfit.
    The ships on my dress have crashed
    with the waves and are
    spinning down to the ocean drain.
    "No! You must keep on!" He insists,
    "The race must be won!"
    Snap back to the bar,
    up high on this stool. He takes a shot,
    says, "Isn't it great to be drunk?"

    Gunned down, I drown and
    this plastic boat is washed ashore.
    I lie here still and empty-eyed,
    the world is quiet and
    lonesome when it's sober. But
    I am told this is the finish line.
    "I'll take you to your car" he says,
    as if I could even comprehend.
    He doesn't care to see that one day,
    I was a girl in a nautical dress,
    playing after school on a swing set.
    My feet skid to a stop against the dry summer land.
    A boy walked over with a honey bee and said,
    "Hold it, it's okay, look, it's dead".
    He dropped it in my palm, the bee woke up,
    and it stung my small white hand.




    Submitted on 2013-03-02 07:32:07     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      Its more of a short story than a poem Id imagine but that doesnt matter really, I especially liked the metaphor "Gunned down, I drown and this plastic boat is washed ashore." A loss of all hope indeed


    I think its quite imaginative but most people probably wouldn't understand this because it goes pretty "far out" if you know what I mean, but I like it. Like i mentioned before its almost like a short-story-poem, which is quite unusual but indeed pretty cool. Not really much else I can say, good write.
    | Posted on 2013-07-10 00:00:00 | by Big_Bill789 | [ Reply to This ]
      I thought this was a great creative read. At the end of every stanza I thought this was going to take a different twist then it did. Which always kept me gasping because I liked what was written instead.

    I love the snaps between the girls imagination and her actual surroundings at the bar.

    I am quite curious where the kid with the bee came from and why that part is in there. It seems a bit random from the rest of the writings.
    | Posted on 2013-03-08 00:00:00 | by siroez | [ Reply to This ]


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    January 10 07
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