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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Orangesdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Narna
    Elite Ratio:    1.74 - 14/102/68
    Words: 86
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 582
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 566



    Description:
       


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

    dotsOrangesdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I forage for fruit that
    Suits my perspective.
    The fruit bowl filler,
    bitter, sweet
    and dripping with nostalgia.
    We take time to wear rinds
    As if preparing the smile,
    Leads to one.
    As if,
    Glueing it there with sour
    sticky lips could keep it stuck.
    Fuck...
    I pick the bits from my teeth
    that get trapped there,
    after orange peel smiles have been
    Spat away with the seeds.
    I attempt to wipe my hands clean.

    We are fruitless in our escape.




    Submitted on 2014-07-03 15:05:44     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      lovely little play on words. tad bit of humor to balance out the bitter which plays to the meaning of the poem. sounds to me like trying to get in touch with childhood pleasures but it doesn't work. i wonder what this was smack dab in the middle of and if that had an influence. i guess when we get older sometimes a smirk serves as a smile. this was somehow still fun to read though. gave me a smirk. we can call it a smile and forget the bowl full of fruit. making the piece fruitfull. not a fruit salad. but an orange. oranges is an orange as oranges represents oranges. that was my attempt at an orange smile. hope it worked.
    | Posted on 2014-07-03 00:00:00 | by cornonthekob | [ Reply to This ]
      Life is depressing, so many bad people, so much wrong. Worse life is terminal, death is inevitable. These fantasies we envision keep our imaginations sound. Granted they may not have much empirical validity but happy people have a tendency to live longer than the abjectly depressed. So savor in your memory that poignant and tangy tartness. Relish its puissance as you digest its essence. I remind you, of our apparent lack of metaphysical prowess, it doesn't get much better than this. Excuse me but I'm having a nostalgic epiphany, as it was……..is now……….and evermore shall be……..right???? My escapee to ya!!!!???

    Bruce
    | Posted on 2014-07-03 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]


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