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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Sympathy For The Devildots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: rws
    ASL Info:    57/m/ohio
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 2777/1297/258
    Words: 95
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 631
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 833



    Description:
       Happy Thanksgiving


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

    dotsSympathy For The Devildots
    -------------------------------------------


    Multitudes funneled
    through the checkpoint
    of oblivion, dragging
    dolls in childlike hands,
    briefcases of businessmen;
    rattling knife-like
    piles of pavement
    stone, vacant eyes
    scorched, flesh moans
    a paean, some
    promise of dignity
    forever lost, visionary
    windows socketless,
    brevity dripped from
    dirty cheeks, dementia,
    tongues torn, lips
    too numb to speak;
    an empire's smitten eulogy.
    The promontory of
    divine inertia grown helpless,
    unknown;
    unknowable
    collage
    of stories
    scraped from tombs,
    life imitating life.

    We seem to speak
    in tongues of dust,
    has the ark
    of some
    covenant
    come to us?




    Submitted on 2005-11-23 10:05:45     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

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




    ||| Comments |||
      Seeing all that the Devil sees always does make me have some sympathy for him, never really thought about what he has to see always. just what will happen to me if to wander without God. "Has the ark of some covenant come to us?" this is very interesting. I have been studying the old testament in church for weeks and so many covenants were made with the Lord and then broken by his chosen people. Only for new ones to be made. follow the Word, be with the chosen, and live forever in heaven.
    ~~tracy
    | Posted on 2006-01-08 00:00:00 | by tmullins | [ Reply to This ]
      This is a good poem, as I would expect from you.

    The only suggestion I could make is a change of title. To be honest, I've avoided reading this one up until now because I feared a cliché. It's only because your other poems that I have read have all been excellent that i clicked on this one also.


    Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I did though.
    | Posted on 2005-12-25 00:00:00 | by Senna27NZ | [ Reply to This ]
      hmm. this read like a roller-coaster that's always in danger of flying off the track but always just barely hangs on. nice use of punctuation... it keeps the reader from getting lost as far as what's describing what. you have some brilliant images in here..."dragging dolls in childlike hands", "visionary windows socketless, brevity dripped from dirty cheeks, " that really have a strong impact. and they're backed up by an obviously above-pop-culture vocabulary that serves its purpose without detracting from the readability. (is that a word?) the whole idea... the empire collapsing, the multitudes lined up, businessman and child, all to go down, down, down... no longer living, not as absent as dead... and the title caught my eye. My mom (she's.... i forget... 45?) went to the Stones concert two weeks ago and went on and on about that song...
    anyway, though i doubt we're all half-dead, i'm suprised at my own intelligence hat i can grasp what you're talking about without Webster. excellent word choice.... you obviously spent time on it, and it works very well. sorry this comment is just rambling, but i don't really have anything to say except "hmmm.... interesting."
    | Posted on 2005-12-12 00:00:00 | by lukewarm | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow. Once again, another reaaally good poem. I saw the title and was like, "ooh, Rolling Stones!" But what a surprise! What a fitting title, surprisingly ironic in this bleak poem, since the song itself has a certain air of flippancy to it. To me, it felt like ... well in Don Quijote DQ talks about how they're in the "edad de hierro" (the age of steel or iron or some such metal.. probably iron) and he laments that and reminisces wistfully about the "edad de oro" or the age of gold. This poem has the same feel. Like a discontented atmosphere, blaming personal failures on the times. This line especially evokes that sense, strikingly, giving another dimension and a grander scheme to what you're saying: "an empire's smitten eulogy". gooood word choices. Also your reference to the Ark, like a sort of cleansing, the intervention of God as a means to returning to the golden age.. really fits in perfectly with the piece and gives it a certain cohesiveness I've noted in all the poetry of yours that I've read thus far.
    The people sound like sheep in the poem, and it sounds like they're trapped- "dragging/ dolls in childlike hands,/ briefcases of businessmen;". Trapped in the cocoon of childhood, or in a stagnant, meaningless worker-bee sort of job, with "vacant eyes" and "flesh moans". That sort of evokes the spiritual unrest and the material decadence that marks our day and age.

    I especially like this line: "life imitating life." You're not just writing poetry to have poems written, it seems to me. You have constant and true messages, worthwhile ones. That's the reeeeeeaally cool thing about your writings- you have the adeptness with your words, you don't eschew rhyming (personally I love rhyming poems) and yet you have something real to say. Just that line, "life imitating life", just sums up the whole feeling of the poem. Stagnant, numb lives that are just shams.. (Wow I hope this all makes sense).
    And then once again, a couplet at the end, like a little fortune cookie that sums everything up perfectly! coolness!
    Oh and one more comment. I hope I'm not being overly obsequious. But... I also like how... you see how up there I was talking about all the clues about restlessness and divine intervetion and stuff in your poem? well I had to search all over for each example. Each point was mentioned at one part and then popped up again elsewhere, just gluing everything together very well...
    Well I have a french examen orale to study for. (aka a FINAL! AHH!) so I'll stop writing about your poem. But I swear I could write a paper on this one. Well..! byekins!
    Kristen
    | Posted on 2005-12-06 00:00:00 | by Kristen Gudsnuk | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow, what a powerful image. I'm seeing the gates to hell, the view that St. Peter's counterpart wakes to every morning.

    The only thing that I would tweak at all, is that the piece has a bit of a running feel. Perhaps focing the reader to pause a bit would strengthen the work as a whole.

    Maybe:
    Multitudes funneled through the checkpoint of oblivion,
    dragging dolls in childlike hands,
    briefcases of businessmen;

    rattling knife-like piles of pavement stone, vacant eyes
    scorched, flesh moans a paean,
    some promise of dignity forever lost,

    visionary windows socketless,
    brevity dripped from dirty cheeks,
    dementia,
    tongues torn,
    lips too numb to speak;

    an empire's smitten eulogy.
    The promontory of divine inertia grown helpless,
    unknown;
    unknowable collage of stories
    scraped from tombs,
    life imitating life.

    We seem to speak
    in tongues of dust,
    has the ark
    of some
    covenant
    come to us?

    This one's a fav anyway.
    Steve
    | Posted on 2005-11-30 00:00:00 | by Lost Sheep | [ Reply to This ]
      sadly this makes me think of the flooding of New Orleans. and all the children leaving with there parents, not knowing whats going on, only the realizations that something is wrong. i liked it, it also gave me a dark sense of remorse and the felling of moving away from home once again.
    | Posted on 2005-11-27 00:00:00 | by wretched_muse | [ Reply to This ]
      I'm not sure that a fully understood all the metaphor that you have in this striking poem.

    Amazing opening mass destruction, sense of Judgement day at the airport – or one of those awful checkpoints that divide Israel and Palestine. A funeral oration for a doomed Empire – for me this connotes America and seems prophetic of impending disaster and the past warnings of war ‘the collage of stories scraped from tombs’ but disregarded by people who are too apathetic to care –

    briefcases of businessmen - metonymy for corporate America as Cinder7, also pointed out.

    That 'we seem to speak in tongues of dust' – seems to connote both dead languages and that the words we speak are destructive – the ark of the covenant – a symbol of the divine presence guiding Israel and a safeguard in war – a holy war and death?

    I would really appreciate your explaining the parts that I failed to grasp. A really impressive poem that I intend to fav if for nothing else that amazing opening.
    Please keep in touch
    Comradenessie
    | Posted on 2005-11-24 00:00:00 | by comradenessie | [ Reply to This ]
      i know you'll probably get tired of hearing this, but i agree with the previous two, slow it down. otherwise, i liked it. especially the part with dolls in childlike hands. you have a way with words, dont ruin it with rushing. cheerio
    _Kat
    | Posted on 2005-11-23 00:00:00 | by PsychoBabble214 | [ Reply to This ]
      I have to continue on with what stormskye was saying. Slowing this down a bit would make it a little bit easier to take in if you will. When the thought of death and hell come to mind, I don't imagine people running around and play hopscotch falme style. I imagine dirty smelly bodies wanting to run for their lives, and can not do so because there sole that Satan rules will only allow them to drag their hideous bodies from place to place, so they must take the time to take in the disgust. Slowing this down would make some one do the same, Take the time to really soak it in. Excellent imagry here.
    "briefcases of businessmen"
    rattling knife-like
    piles of pavement
    stone, vacant eyes
    scorched flesh moans
    a paean, some
    promise of dignity
    forever lost,
    That did it for me! It makes me think about corporate America and how they f*** you every chance they get, and it just makes you remember they will get what's coming to them for making you your life as hard as it can be. It's spark revenge in my eyes almost. Man, what an angry day I'm having huh. Great poem, and topic to speak about.
    | Posted on 2005-11-23 00:00:00 | by Cinder7 | [ Reply to This ]
      Very thought provoking and tortured oeice you have here.

    I am not usually a big fan of darker pieces...mainly becasue I am not very good as seeing the world through tortured eyes. I do have a lot of respect for those who can take the dark sideof life and make beautiful poetry come alive, like you have done here though

    I especially enjoyed the few lines of this peice
    "Multitudes funneled
    through the checkpoint
    of oblivion, dragging
    dolls in childlike hands"... The image of damned soul drudging through the gateway of hell like cattle really provokes picutres of children dragging teddy bears through the ashes of their ancestors... agaon beautiful

    The only suggestion I have for this peice would be to slow the flow down with puntuation, I beleive this will aslo add an aditional dramatic effect it your iamges.

    Very good read for me!

    Ella
    | Posted on 2005-11-23 00:00:00 | by stormyskye | [ Reply to This ]


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