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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Creation born from boredom and hungerdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Outlaw
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 510/413/195
    Words: 137
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 642
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 949



    Description:
       now to see if this creation can resolve either.


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

    dotsCreation born from boredom and hungerdots
    -------------------------------------------


    There is a burning urgency to the slow
    passing seconds of boredom, a colossal
    crushing; a rock borne with igneous
    precision. And there, within, a crystalline
    structure, unbreakable by hand, but breakable
    still with diamonds or fiery circumstances–
    there, there is passion and meaning, holstered
    like the immovable desires of a broken heart
    remedying the empty calories of hours spent
    watching TV, or talking perfunctorily to acquaintances,
    or working tirelessly, despite being tired of it,
    towards an uninditeable end; a remedy in
    commensurate ability to ability. You cannot soothe
    the burns, allay the crumbling; you can merely witness
    and fathom, tease the very possibility of life's fabric
    from the woven teeth of the beasts come to put you
    to bed. One of them carries the name of Pride,
    while the other goes by Lust.




    Submitted on 2017-01-29 02:25:22     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
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    ||| Comments |||
      Imagery of a starving artist or a disenchanted poet can lend itself to feeling like a clichĂ©. Yet this piece manages to avoid such pitfalls. Instead, it gives wings to the fanciful notion that the only solace an artist has is the work. The attempt is to busy the mind and quell the hunger pangs that come from lack of food. . . lack of love, a need for peace. Yet it holds such small solace, really.

    "You cannot soothe
    the burns, allay the crumbling; you can merely witness
    and fathom, tease the very possibility of life's fabric
    from the woven teeth of the beasts come to put you
    to bed."

    This is a gem within a gem. More than soothing anything, we are bearing witness to it. Recording it through the very intimate lens of voice.

    I do agree with Daniel about the photograph, though. I feel like a perspective shot from the top of a canyon would be more befitting somehow. But that's just me.

    | Posted on 2017-02-14 00:00:00 | by JanePlane | [ Reply to This ]
      I found this poem to be pretty true of experience. Often, when I'm writing I find punctuation looks obscene, so I actually appreciate reading something where everything works and the poem seems at ease. Content wise, punctuation wise I thought this was just excellent. Advanced communication , and all that.

    The picture didn't do anything for me. Pride is serious and so is lust. Lust is smoking hot and sultry.

    The choice to narrow this down to pride and lust is a mistake imo. The poem (the reading of it) is an exploration- so the poem kind of cheats itself or weakens itself by dropping down 2 highschool hallway hooks on which to easily hang your coat.

    I don't find love to be like a light you can turn on or turn off. It burns for some. For others it will never burn. It does not come on command. It does not go away on command.
    Therefore, if we use the analogy of dragging a horse to water -but not being able to make it drink... it does not matter if Pride or Lust do the dragging. Compulsion must do the dragging. Pride can take a fall. Lust can wane. Compulsion is not wired like that.

    And, here, I bet your mind has set off on another tangent.
    | Posted on 2017-02-07 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ]


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