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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Bifurcationdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: expiring_touch
    ASL Info:    26/f/Hamburg
    Elite Ratio:    4.03 - 136/243/156
    Words: 102
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 750
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 620



    Description:
       


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

    dotsBifurcationdots
    -------------------------------------------


    On this night I sit
    in the back alley of dreams, of two-some minds
    in mid-spring bloom - right now
    when we none of us can fail or care
    to know the future.
    I knew your face before, it sang
    beneath the shades of unsung trees
    etched on my life line –
    eyes for embers and mouth for mirror
    covered with black velvet.
    I started like a bird this night, a cooling drift
    across my midriff; and all that was,
    was fair, we’ve come
    full circle.














    Submitted on 2014-04-23 20:55:25     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      I think this is beautiful.
    | Posted on 2014-04-30 00:00:00 | by etheror | [ Reply to This ]
      I'm not sure if your following anything but an internal meter, of your own rhythm, but this reads very well from beginning to end on a technical level, it has really good form. What I like I suppose though is the content, bifurcation, almost like that two people used to be one, and are forever trying to become one body again, that old myth. My favourite thing though, is just the simplicity of your language, and I say that with no negative implications. Clarity of language may be a better word. Really though, this seems like a real poem to me. So much of the poems I read on here, are complex without saying anything, too universal without relaying anything consequential. This poem could be universal, and say a lot, in a few words. I guess it's just my personal taste, but I am enamoured with this poem. Great work.

    I knew your face before, it sang
    beneath the shades of unsung trees
    etched on my life line –

    This is poetry. For all happy viewers, notice how you don't need a dictionary to find out what the words mean, rather you need to think about what they actually mean in this instance. Also, how much of a pleasure that is. Writers can learn a lot from such poems. Too much is overwrought up here.
    | Posted on 2014-04-27 00:00:00 | by Wolfwatching | [ Reply to This ]


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