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A Distant Surface

Author: lucianraven
ASL Info:    21/M/Spfld Il
Elite Ratio:    3.46 - 49 /67 /19
Words: 117
Class/Type: Deep Thought /Depressed
Total Views: 1877
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 725


Spent some time in the ocean of my mind today. Just sort of rolled off the mind, let me know what you think I suppose.

A Distant Surface

Above me, beyond my reach but within my sight
A surface of dappled water, salt sea spray and warm sunlight
My breath sustains me, my lungs full
Yet bubbles escape my lips and trickle upward
Weights adorn me, keeping me below
They are self-doubt, they are sorrow, and there are others
Powerful legs kick towards the surface
And keep me from the bottom
Sand swirls below from the motion of my feet
My lungs burn
My outstretched hand has yet to breach the waves
My breath is spent
I fall, back towards the bottom
I breathe deeply of my warmer memories, of my stronger thoughts
My lungs renewed, I try again for a distant surface

Submitted on 2015-09-20 15:54:43     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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  I like the imagery, and I like the pushing of boundaries. Burning lungs, endurance challenges, good things to be thinking about and experiencing. Actually the entire piece is an experience and it is nice to be able to read something, lose myself in it, feel like I've digested a nice piece.
| Posted on 2015-09-22 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]
  I like the concept of self doubt and sorrow being your weights to drag you down. The work felt like sadness and a glimmer of hope. That as you search yourself for hope and the memories of your past that have got you to where you are today, you can draw on them to find inner strength so as to reach down deep and try again for the surface. Great concept and a neat way to convey your idea.

| Posted on 2015-09-21 00:00:00 | by Soulraven | [ Reply to This ]
  Honestly, I think it is a procedural mistake for poets to dream up a sublime picture and then try to word it out. Every word will always stand a pale comparison, and a poem (like a person) without confidence built-in will read as such. Admittedly, certain poems take a sense of their own, despite their author, and reach heights on their own. But how high can they ever truly dream to go without at the very least a solid foundation to work with?

And enough of the endless tangent. The one aspect I found interesting about this poem were the last couple of lines. This idea that our conscious existence (as defined through memories and emotions) is where we draw our lifelines from, rather than just the tangible. It is true, in almost every sense, that there is nothing new about that idea (I mean this is the embodiment of almost every rebound in any movie nowadays "Ho? I am sad. I fall. Ho? But what about this and that? I must endure."). But poetry has never been an exercise of new ideas, but rather ideas newly written.

Those are just thoughts though. Just thoughts.
| Posted on 2015-09-20 00:00:00 | by Outlaw | [ Reply to This ]

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