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    dots Submission Name: The Perfect Preydots

    Author: thetwilight
    ASL Info:    23/F/Ca
    Elite Ratio:    3.4 - 81/68/15
    Words: 460
    Class/Type: Poetry/
    Total Views: 940
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3261

       NOTE: THIS IS NOT A VAMPIRE/DEPRESS/SUICIDE/CUT/ROLEPLAY poem. Not your average dark poem.

    I have odd pieces... but this one takes the cake. I don't want to give you background information on it as I'd like to if anyone is to comment what they might derrive from it without. Thanks in advance everyone!

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

    dotsThe Perfect Preydots

    The ghost in the kitchen has spoken
    No Pots, Pans or Knives…
    Although I’m sure what it really wants
    Is to watch me jam the steely things
    Straight into my eyes
    And curl up rocking myself on the
    Cold, bloody tiles set next to
    Darkened portal watch ways
    For hair pulling suicide…
    Like some sort of ghostly slapstick comedy special
    They can only enjoy from years of exposure
    To whatever dimension they crawled filthy
    And black from…

    Ah.. but I hear the leaves rustling outside
    And I know I have my army…
    4 million strong, but they can’t come in.
    Not here.
    Not ever here.

    Yet I can draw strength from their presence…
    From the distraction that is them.
    But sometimes not enough…
    To scare back the inevitable song…
    The evil lullabies…
    The whispers in the hallows of the house..
    Or the secrets rotting on wilting parchment
    Lost forever in some dark foundation.
    In some shadowy peak of seemingly ordinary land.

    Yet sometimes…
    I wonder if they’re just a captive audience..
    Silhouettes on the horizon…
    Swaying in the hidden crevices of my eyes…
    Swaying for the teleprompter…
    Rather then things
    I can call..

    Just living eyes
    Called to watch the show inside…
    For the mere reason..
    Of just simply..

    Cameras roll, and the earth sighs
    Ripples beneath our worthless feet.
    The cosmic joke that is our feet..
    Given to us as if we can out run…
    What is truly dangerous.
    As if the ghosts don’t follow…
    Wherever we might brave to tread
    With hope intact.

    And one must wonder…
    What their power is..
    What can they make us become
    If we close our eyes?
    What dark things buried inside
    Can they call forth from us?
    Are you strong enough
    To keep them at bay?
    Are you ignorant enough
    To think you can keep…
    Doing that
    Or will you lay down;
    And submit
    To the strings?

    We’ve all been their puppets at least once.
    That’s for sure…
    And they know that.
    They keep it stored in their malicious memories..
    They stay proud, illustrious, and victorious
    Patriots for their cause…
    For the few wills they lead astray…
    For the few wins they do retrieve…
    Carved from weakening minds and
    Hollowed souls…

    To make trophies out of shadows…
    To display on
    Their wall monuments constructed with only
    The finest grade of agonies.
    The finest grade of tears.
    It’s all enough for them..
    To keep on baring
    Decaying teeth…
    At our fallacies…
    In good spirit.
    Human gullibility…
    Such vulnerable
    Sheltered things
    We are.
    The perfect prey.
    And no one will believe you…
    When you speak of it.
    For you where born unto them..
    You are theirs..
    To keep.

    Submitted on 2005-12-15 00:37:24     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
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    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      Wow. This has so much going on in it had has very valid statements throughout. It is just one of those that you can read over and again and find new meanings, hopes, despairs and all sorts of stuff. Very nice write.

    Are you ignorant enough
    To think you can keep…
    Doing that

    I liked that part. Many people should lose that sense of ignorance...its called..."growing up", ya know? thanks for sharing.
    | Posted on 2005-12-15 00:00:00 | by hyproglo | [ Reply to This ]
      I have alot of guesses as to what you meant this poem to mean. They're probably all wrong. One stanza would make me think it was about something and then another stanza would make me think I was wrong and it was about something else entirely.
    These lines..."Swaying in the hidden crevices of my eyes…
    Swaying for the teleprompter…
    Just living eyes
    Called to watch the show inside…"
    Made me think it was about memories you cant push away or are re-living.
    You have to tell me what it's really about, I insist :)
    Really awesome poetry here, I was captivated the whole time I read it.
    Thanks for sharing, write on.
    | Posted on 2005-12-15 00:00:00 | by DisilusndDreamr | [ Reply to This ]
      i've read this about three times and i believe what your saying is that the demons and shadows which make us their prey are the government. idk thats what i get from it, the army that can't enter of 4 million strong i seem to think your talking of our gov. army that say they are helping but don't help us in our own country. again idk it's just what i get out of it. the only thing i would fix with this poem is the organization, it seems to jump around and then return to the main topic which throws me off track and once i think i got it i lose it. thx for the read,

    | Posted on 2005-12-15 00:00:00 | by disturbedx1000 | [ Reply to This ]
      OK, other than your overuse of the ellipsis (...), this is a really good work. Stark and haunting with really intense imagery. Nice job here; you're pretty mature as a writer. have you tried to get anything published? If not, you should.


    | Posted on 2005-12-15 00:00:00 | by joeyalphabet | [ Reply to This ]
      O.K., you're friggin killing me here, I've read and reread this like ten times now and I can't stop, it keeps taking me deeper each time but I can't quite figure it out. could be about dreams? demons of some sort? the wilting parchment part made me think religion but then you have the references to cameras, maybe evil televangelists :D ? WHATEVER , I'm adding this to my faves so I can read it again and again till I get it, for now I'm sticking with some sort of memory or dream that has some sort of hold...crazy thing about words, what they mean to you might not be at all what they mean to the person writing next to you, that's what I love about the whole poetry thing...keep it up and thank you for making me think, I think LOL

    | Posted on 2005-12-15 00:00:00 | by Milo shanley | [ Reply to This ]

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