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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Humandots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: marysunshine
    ASL Info:    34, Female,
    Elite Ratio:    4.48 - 610/705/75
    Words: 148
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1286
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1036



    Description:
       Whatever...mind on a whirly.


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

    dotsHumandots
    -------------------------------------------


    Epiphanies of the day
    are changeable like chalk drawings.
    Whats genius in the moment
    with euphoria heating on the burner,
    will be cooling in the compost heap tomorrow.

    The constant is the trickery
    that kills off our humility,
    and renders us royalty.
    So quickly we forget.

    As we crash our brains in depression
    against the rocks of earth; our reference.
    Divinity is found in the panic,
    that keeps us from the knife.
    Dogma then takes over and we rise with will again.

    The constant is in repetition.
    Dj vu; no recognition.
    Guns with lack of ammunition.
    So quickly we forget.

    Tomorrow I will try again
    to find the greatness of the glutton,
    and I'll author another book
    that rivals those of highest knowledge,
    but it will decompose soon after, proving nothing grand.













    Submitted on 2005-05-19 13:40:38     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      We are only dust in the wind...? Agreed that nothing we do is as important as we think. Original I'm not sure about, there are only the same themes remade, because humans like what they know, not know what they like. You have some old ideas perhaps expressed in new ways, and your use of language is lofty and somewhat unique. But if poetry is the language of the soul, I could close my eyes and see what you are saying in my imagination. Maybe too much information keeps this one reeling in my mind and my soul
    is slow and doesn't follow along. Thanks,

    ~amun~
    | Posted on 2005-05-19 00:00:00 | by amun | [ Reply to This ]
      Vanity, vanity, all is vanity, but being human is to invent our own meaning for what we do with each moment of our lives. your poem did nothing to cheer me up on a cold wet morning.Too many big words. Not that I can't understand the big words - they just give your poem a certain flavour. They make it distant and philosophical instead of immediate and gutsy. Being a keen gardener, your cooling in the compost image doesn't work for me. It produces a brain niggle-query because for me, compost heaps are hot places with all the heat of bacterial action. Do you know that they can sometimes catch fire with their own generated heat?
    | Posted on 2005-05-19 00:00:00 | by hanuman | [ Reply to This ]
      Man as his own worst enemy?
    There are a couple of lines where you use "the" twice, one is the intro, which could be condensed to "These daily epiphanies"
    and "The constant is the trickery"
    could perhaps become "consistancy is the trickery" but that may change your meaning.
    You might break a few of the longer lines, I think the ideas lend themselves to more breaks.
    In the line starting with "Dogma..." you might drop the "and"
    breaking the line there and starting anew with
    "we rise with will again" (Nice sonics, you wascly wabbit)
    Hope this is helpful.
    Take care,
    Dave
    | Posted on 2005-05-19 00:00:00 | by Sandburg | [ Reply to This ]


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