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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Ridiculedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: lori_tab
    ASL Info:    27/f/alabama
    Elite Ratio:    4.33 - 1752/1517/481
    Words: 148
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 601
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 991



    Description:
       


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

    dotsRidiculedots
    -------------------------------------------


    calling on that ebbs and flows
    underneath the surfaces of our feet
    the raw certainty of being and simple tastes of gratitude for a moment or a memory
    of peace
    and joy

    how has a house so callouse built itself above
    that energy,

    to never produce anything of its own kind?

    Monuments are gravestones.

    Do not let us die this way,
    placidly suffocating the breath of life in the diaries of our minds.

    Docile Birds with clipped wings.

    Well we all have suffered and have suffered suffering enough,

    I call upon compassion
    for the generations that follow
    compassions
    for your own child at heart
    compassion
    for the time that is being wasted as we march like soldiers into our enemy
    to surrender
    as we brake mirrors of empty faces over our own heads

    Will we answer one another?





    Submitted on 2013-04-13 08:57:12     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      First things first, that picture above makes me speculate that we'd be friends if we met in real life. Buuut, moving on.
    I'm curious what this is about.
    Naturally, I wondered at first if it was about soldiers, who, though they are fighting and are symbols of strength and hope to some could actually be seen as a representation of limited freedom. They submit their freedom to the will of the governing authorities, becoming "docile birds with clipped wings" -- a line I really like, by the way. If what they are fighting for is not good, and if there is no compassion in their hearts -- or any of our hearts -- then of what use is the fighting? we build a useless civilization when it's every man or country for himself, and no compassion remains, due to wars that arguably cause more harm than good.
    Anyway, I'm just rambling on about the thoughts this brought to me. I may be off about the meaning entirely...What does it mean?
    | Posted on 2013-04-19 00:00:00 | by only_a_dreamX | [ Reply to This ]


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