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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Carelessdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: cuddledumplin
    ASL Info:    36/ f/UK
    Elite Ratio:    4.08 - 6269/5927/526
    Words: 80
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 791
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 540



    Description:
       I never considered that this might be about a body; I was thinking of cares in the literal sense, but my works mean whatever you see in them.


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

    dotsCarelessdots
    -------------------------------------------


    He took my cares from me
    now I care for nothing.
    He buried them
    behind his granny's barn
    in a wooden box
    with a broken hinge.
    All of these carefree days
    are as empty as a virgin's womb,
    so I feign interest in everything,
    but fool no one,
    and I ruin my back
    forcing a rusted spade
    through thick Nebraska soil
    on a fruitless search
    for rotten concerns
    for something I need
    for something or someone
    that needs me.




    Submitted on 2004-12-02 10:48:39     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    ||| Comments |||
      there's so much about this that makes me want to cry ... and want to watch and episode of desperate housewives (i'm such a sucker for trash tv). i like how our girl doesn't just lay down and be content to live and die, robbed of her spirit, content to be a shadow of her former self before he came and took it away. still it's heartbreaking to witness someone's desperate search, that might come too late or just in time for some small fragment of hope at the end of a hunt. i think we all have rusty spades to dig with, and eventually we all go out behind someone's house or barn or 4th floor walk up and start to look for hope. for something to hold close and be relieved that there is a place and a person for you out there still. that complete happiness can be yours again. so though i want to cry, i felt that there was hope in this, though a very desolate kind. thanks, as always, for sharing your work with us. =]

    ~Blue
    | Posted on 2004-12-14 00:00:00 | by blueorchids | [ Reply to This ]
      Interesting way to turn that around, making carefree a bad thing. I can attest first hand to the digging up of your dreams being fruitless. I'm still digging, but certain "cares" are never coming back. It's like innocence; once lost you can't ever attain it again.

    If it's depressing, then I guess I'm depressed. I'm faving it.
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by deadndreaming | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey...this is pretty good but needs a little work imo...much to love about it though.

    He took my cares from me
    Now I care for nothing
    He buried them
    Behind his granny's barn
    In a wooden box
    With a broken hinge
    All of those carefree days * those?

    but really...it doesn't seem like she'll have any carefree days....

    Are as empty as a virgin's womb
    So I feign interest in everything

    "everything" seems a bit of a one size fits all phrase

    But fool no one
    And I ruin my back
    Forcing a rusted spade
    Through thick Nebraska soil
    On a fruitless search
    For rotted concerns
    For something I need
    For something that needs me

    This last section is the heart of the poem. You did an amazing job with the imagery and the metaphor
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ]
      Well I received a strong first impression from this and I am having trouble letting go of it. There are probably different interpretations, but in mine I'm wondering if at the end you should be searching for someone you need and someone who needs you?
    Instead of things?
    But nice, haunting.
    Dave
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by Sandburg | [ Reply to This ]
      very interesting, this is. without a care in the world... yeah, that seems impossible. we need to have things and people to care about in our life, or what's the point? i like how you go digging at the end, searching for those cares 'cause your life is so empty without them.

    He buried them
    Behind his granny's barn
    In a wooden box
    With a broken hinge

    i like this image a lot. who is it who took your cares away? who is this mysterious "he?" great write!
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]
      do you know the book called "The unbearable lightness of being" (I guess that's what it's called, I have just the German title in my mind)?? your poem reminded me of this one. we need the heavy, the burdens or something we care and worry about. we can't enjoy being so "light", being careless.
    I liked the beginning very much. the image of he burying it behind his granny's barn. a really good poem. even if you recycled something. who cares?? just don't tell. I do it all the time, too.
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by eve1684 | [ Reply to This ]
      I like this idea of hiding your cares away forever and trying to act like you care. And the last few lines are priceless. I think it's interesting the way you wrote about having all the cares, stored them away, and now yearned for something, something more. Great write. You really made me think with this. :)
    -blt
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by borderlinetears | [ Reply to This ]
      You've captured an emptiness here that I trust garnered some form of relief.
    "He took my cares...buried them in his granny's back yard" is so poignant,
    "Now I care for nothing" is a slam dunk description of lost love's effect on us. But the fact that you're still searching for the lost part of of you is apparent,
    "And I ruin my back,
    Forcing a rusted spade
    Through thick Nebraska soil
    On a fruitless search
    For rotten concerns.."

    Well I'm heart broken too, if you can find me in the dirt, we'll cry together. It's a great piece, dear.
    Hugs and my sincere congratudolences,
    Nan
    | Posted on 2004-12-02 00:00:00 | by nansofast | [ Reply to This ]
      dark and powerful. I just wonder what happened to you to inspire these dark pieces. the emptiness here is represented brilliantly through your use of metiphore and simile. (empty as a virgin's womb, the empty box)
    thanks again for sharing
    | Posted on 2004-12-05 00:00:00 | by cainboy | [ Reply to This ]


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