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Brr.


Author: Outlaw
Elite Ratio:    8 - 514 /417 /196
Words: 212
Class/Type: Poetry /Nature
Total Views: 1788
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 1392



Description:


Brr under certain classifications is considered to be a word in scrabble. So are Brrr, and Brrrr.


Brr.



J'y suis, et pourtant, on ne s'en rend pas compte
"I am here, et yet, nobody seems to realize"

Petulant red rose petals flitting but for a gentle breeze
perched upon their arches, yearning examples
of blossom in otherwise destitute exile
gone from ember kissed hues to ashen white.

There is a gaunt embrace in a wind bearing chill,
rending skin, flaying away the very fibers of sensation;
there is peace on unproductive plains, flakes of a spiritual
life with no god, only echoing screams of pain and cries
scattering what may still hang from pronged sprigs.

Le Canada n'est que quelques arpents de neige
"Canada is no more than a few snowy acres"

There is a vast quality to this emptiness, it overwhelms;
like the sun to an eye during an eclipse, a life overshadowed
by meaningless struggles and discomfort. It is romantic,
and yet only tragically sought out -- the disparate solace
of artistic insanity. The figment of a world in which there
can be no concept of other, of you, of bearing witness
to a self, no discovery.

If passion is born from fire, this is a land of disciplined
purposelessness, a wandering sea otter whose only friend
is a chipped pebble.




Submitted on 2017-03-03 03:35:04     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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Comments


  Wow, you are a really good writer. The entire piece is well done, but the end really hits home, very unique and soulful and picturesque. And in some funny way, I think it personalizes how Alone feels, because I think everyone feels like that otter in some way.
| Posted on 2017-04-06 00:00:00 | by WriteSomething | [ Reply to This ]
  Some very melancholy stuff Mark. So many excellent metaphors. I especially like the last one "a wandering sea otter whose only friend is a chipped pebble." Gives me visions of a man with naught to treasure but our root clod of a planet. Everything else is meaningless, unproductive, and destitute. I wonder if this reflects your own personal struggles and joys. I get the feeling that often enough you actually feel this way about existence. Artistically stated my friend.

Bruce
| Posted on 2017-03-03 00:00:00 | by monad | [ Reply to This ]


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