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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Death of an Intense Writerdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: cuddledumplin
    ASL Info:    36/ f/UK
    Elite Ratio:    4.08 - 6269/5927/526
    Words: 121
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 979
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 758



    Description:
       I found this in an old notebook last night.


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

    dotsThe Death of an Intense Writerdots
    -------------------------------------------


    He was such an intense writer
    that he wanted to die
    from an infected paper cut
    if only to prove
    he died for his art.
    His body was as thin and white as a page
    that smelled of ink.
    I think he bled it, thick and red.
    You could see his words as he spoke
    in bold Courier New.
    Everything from his mouth or hand
    was as vivid as a poem
    even shopping lists and directions,
    and when he finally died
    his brain was clogged
    with the thick residue of stories,
    and a council of his characters
    carried him to the afterlife
    where he danced amongst
    an endless supply of blank leaves
    and never ending fountains of black and blue.




    Submitted on 2004-11-09 04:51:36     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      Oh my, this is so very clever! It is really tongue-in-cheek as he bleeds his words and is so intense that he must die for his art. This is one of the most unique and most incredible writings I have yet to read on this site. Your last line about the black and blue is priceless, really, because often times it is like a beating that brings us to the page. You are amazing!
    +Jo
    | Posted on 2005-09-07 00:00:00 | by whisperslove | [ Reply to This ]
      I like this a lot, I like what you've done because I can relate to it so well. I've often caught myself doing things (like shopping lists), but this guy, LOL... he's like, everything you'd *expect* a writer to be. I have used the idea of bleeding ink myself but never as skilfully as this. I liked so many lines, but I think that possibly the death from an infected papercut was what I liked most. It was a humourous touch. I like the way he spoke in courier new (I like Arial, myself :P) and.. it's just really unique, a good length and... it really works. I agree with Angela that this is fantastic and that you should consider sending this one away. Good luck with the jury duty!
    Lea
    | Posted on 2004-11-15 00:00:00 | by Learah | [ Reply to This ]
      I think what I got more from this is that writers live, breath, sleep their work but they can't die from it. They can't die like they lived, and they can't truly be their work. Tell me if that makes any sense!
    Anyway, he seems very haunted by the words. Nice work.

    -emo.
    | Posted on 2004-11-14 00:00:00 | by emo-tastic | [ Reply to This ]
      interesting poem which deals with a serious topic. it's interesting how poets and writers tend to become more famous in death rather than in life. just a thought.
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by colagirl | [ Reply to This ]
      i like this one a lot. it is so vivid and haunting. dying of an infected paper cut to prove he died for his art! that's great! when did you write this one? i can see him dancing with all the leafs of paper around the fountain of blue and black ink! very visual!
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
      Great imagery in this. I love the comparison. I love this. Blahed Blahed Blah! I wish I could say more than "I love it!" about your pieces but I can't. I don't know how to give advice on something that I see doesn't need fixing. LoL I'm stuck trying to find the words to describe how wonderful, beautiful, excellent, great, good, brillant this piece was. :) Anyway! Loved it. Great job Sunshine! ;)
    -blt
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by borderlinetears | [ Reply to This ]
      Nice find. "his brain was clogged up with residue of stories" and "council of characters carried him" has has great sound. I love it, every line is just right, the last four are spectacular. When I'm stuck and feel I 'm not writing well, I look at my older work too. Somtimes, I missed the meaning at the time. It's amazing how we change and poems are means of measure. You're writing well, you're just looking at that new horizon and wondering what it's like.
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by nansofast | [ Reply to This ]
      very well written like the imagery portrayed by a soul very creative usage of ones imagination felt word for word kept me reading to the end great piece
    sandman
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by sandman | [ Reply to This ]
      For some reason this poem made me stop and reread it several times. How creative the words were. Such a gathering of thoughts to all tell the tale of this soul that lived and died for "his art."

    His body was as thin and white as paper, smelling of ink. Bleeding ink. Nothing as mundane as a shopping list or directions...everything was poetic and artful unto his death from a brain clogged with the very words he sought to release.

    And the afterlife for this creative soul was so apt. Carried away by his council of characters to a heaven of blank sheets of paper and fountains of writing ink.

    You know how you always ask for our opinions of which poems you should submit for manuscripts? Well, this is one of them. I think it was brilliant.

    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by angela~ | [ Reply to This ]
      I would have to say that I feel this way about myself at times. When I start noticing alliteration in your inter-office email,
    and worrying over hyphenation of words like Post-It notes, it may be time to lighten up,
    what do you think?
    Dave
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by Sandburg | [ Reply to This ]
      Now I'm sorry I did not write about something my wife told me.
    She said spme day I'll die from an idea or phrase clogging up my neural-net. Too Late!
    A great idea, I might still write it, but keep it personally filed away, if I do I'll e-mail it in an IM here so you will not think I stole your great ideas!
    My one question is; If one might be so intense, I wonder if the thought of dying might ever be entertained? You cannt pry them from the place where they write> just a thought.
    Great idea here, See Ya.
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by Clayton | [ Reply to This ]
      I like this very much, I cannot see anything wrong with it. How old is this?
    What was the insperation of this piece?
    Just a few things I would like to know.

    You did quite a nice job, congrats.

    Gradually,
    Darin
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by bloodwing | [ Reply to This ]
      first I read "He was such an intense winter". I guess I'm fixated on winter and snow cause today it started snowing here.
    anyway this is a good piece. but I would suggest to reword your lines 5- 8. cause you start very, very similar all these lines.
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by eve1684 | [ Reply to This ]
      I know you said this was an old thing you found, but you seem to be posting a lot of pieces with poetry/writing as the main theme lately. Personally, i love reading pieces that seem to be almost conscious of themself and using there own nature and for as a metaphor for the poem. I love this poem. Thanx for shring your words.
    -Jimma-
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by Jimma | [ Reply to This ]
      i like this. it reads more like prose than poetry, but that's not a bad thing. btw, can i be that guy...?

    [machine says i need more words...]
    | Posted on 2004-11-09 00:00:00 | by joeyalphabet | [ Reply to This ]


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