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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Thanatophobiadots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Cindergarden1
    ASL Info:    18 Male Sweden
    Elite Ratio:    4.69 - 43/58/17
    Words: 139
    Class/Type: Poetry/Angst
    Total Views: 1093
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 999



    Description:
       This is the fictional story of a man that tries to remain young by staying well clear of responsibilites.


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

    dotsThanatophobiadots
    -------------------------------------------


    Dawn shatters against her window
    Through the white plastic shutters
    And crawls over her body
    Laying still
    Unaware of morning
    My kisses still wet on her back
    Unaware of mourning
    Yet to come

    Wide awake
    In fear of age
    I try to hide my eyes
    From the unwelcome light
    Heralding my 9264th day
    Trying to remember the name
    Of the woman
    That came with the sex
    6:14 AM a dozen repressed years come knocking
    At a door I'd rather leave unopened

    What are you? The fucking ghost of christmas past?

    While feeding flames of justification
    With binary answers
    Reheated coffee grows cold yet again
    On her morning paper
    Sepia circles on vacancies
    I need somewhere to go
    Unaware of heartache
    Yet to come

    Ignorance is bliss
    Denial is not




    Submitted on 2005-04-23 18:44:56     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
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    ||| Comments |||
      In terms of what you proposed to accomplish with this peice "a man that tries to remain young by staying well clear of responsibilites." You've pulled it off well. Wish Mag. hadn't already commented on your wordplay with "morning" and "mourning", but just let me reiterate that it works well. She's right about the ghost of christmas past part too, though i'd leave "who are you" in and possibly add something more abstracted to it. Altogether a very enjoyable read. I will look for more of your stuff.
    later, kc
    | Posted on 2005-04-25 00:00:00 | by twacky | [ Reply to This ]
      I quite liked this piece. I like how you say in the first stanza that dawn crawls over her body. That was a nice image to me. You sound as though you are apathetic and numb from these encounters and are searching for a way to curb them. I also like the use of morning and "mourning"...The second stanza is interesting as well, but the part that I don't love is the italicized question about the ghost of Christmas past. I feel like it is just sticking out there and isn't really needed. These are just the opinions of a fellow writer trying to find her voice. Hope some of this helps...growing up sucks, eh? Magnolia
    | Posted on 2005-04-23 00:00:00 | by Magnolia | [ Reply to This ]
      Nothing very interesting going on in this poem. Between the lines reads sexual frustration left unexplained and still blaitantly uninteresting. what did that experience really mean to you?
    | Posted on 2005-04-23 00:00:00 | by Key Wester | [ Reply to This ]
      Very interesting and original imagery you have here. I especially like your twist with the word "morning," using it again as "mourning." Is this autobiographical, perhaps?

    My only real critique is that this poem doesn't really have a beat -- there are very long lines and very short ones. It would be more readable if they were evened out a bit.
    | Posted on 2005-04-23 00:00:00 | by blackpearl | [ Reply to This ]


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