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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Throwin mantras at drunk girlsdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: x-ianhoyskolt
    ASL Info:    25/male/new zealand
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 206/219/61
    Words: 343
    Class/Type: Poetry/Love
    Total Views: 1695
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2351



    Description:
       I think I lost my cards and my poker face
    still got some 5 dollar gambling chips sitting in my coin-bowl
    seems like I have to buy a new one
    they all look so expensive and mass produced
    don't really want to go to the second hand shops
    most of them are only pseudo antique
    more like dusty garage sales in most places
    sometimes you get a lucky dip though
    sometimest the docks are all tied up
    every pigeon hole busy and closed for the day
    only here for a day

    i'll catch a wave sometime soon though
    make surethe foam doesn't spin my head
    like it so often does
    although it will always let you go up for breath
    in time
    if you relax and let it carry you to shore
    when up and down looses its meaning
    struggling makes it all worse
    struggling can really
    get you drowning

    ...
    might not be much of a description
    but it's what you get


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

    dotsThrowin mantras at drunk girlsdots
    -------------------------------------------


    Throwing mantras at drunk girls

    lovely lady laila
    lovely little goddess
    in lingerie and latex,
    with our cup-hands
    we talk in loud silence

    I'm falling badly
    I mean like diving into a shallow of coral reef
    like breakfalling down stone steps
    carved into a steep mountain
    Stumped shellshock, raving madly

    In our cup-folds
    on knees at a new altar
    I mean it's more like a malleable traveling kit
    like a setting for spontaneous deities
    of all and no religion

    swaying like herbs in a timid breeze
    no leaps, no sway, no flow
    in the breath of naked air

    There must be something sobering
    about my stench
    no amount of liquor or drugs
    can drown out

    I was shook
    Like the burnt child
    on two shots of absinthe
    anda cup full of Jagermeisster
    Shook
    by audio silence and cog play
    in you and me

    I was shook
    out of a delicate cage
    a scented and candle lit
    web of meats

    I was shook
    into the caves
    dank holes of Truth
    that lie in offwhite teeth
    rotting in carbonised cups

    Shook
    I fear I must regress
    into the paint that you molest

    Look, taste, fold my hands
    around a cup full of pussy

    Trembling, tied up,
    karate belt for the left wrist
    kung fu belt for the right wrist
    red and white crazy creek for the legs
    random rough rope in my mouth
    tied up in a body twist

    Shook, to rave like ravens
    in the muse of nectar nights
    in the house
    of the eagle fluttered butterfly
    never once mentioned
    in scripture

    just fuck for a while

    just fuck

    flickers like a blue flame
    in the back of memory clusters

    it burnt
    like revitalising resin
    of Yland Ylang and Timian,
    Jasmine and Orange,
    eucalyptus and Lemon,
    Rosemary and Lavender
    on a base of avocado oil

    just fuck

    it

    love seems

    a fading

    memory





    Submitted on 2005-12-22 18:57:21     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

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




    ||| Comments |||
      dude, you made the orgasm seem like a disease, this is crazy 20 fold metaphor of pussy. I am sorry I havent tended to your peices, I read them, but I always feel too lame to comment. So now I should say [censored] it and be lame. I signed up for your bloggs and I forgot my passwords, so I will have to sign up again. this poem was sweaty, i liked it. It reminded me of the fact that I live in dank hole basement and I am a dank hole, and whats really funny is that i posted a picture of a wet pussy on my profile and even bragged about it before I even posted this. weird huh?

    So dude, I lube reading your work, you are one trippy effin character, I am going to fav this one.


    What the hell did you do to all your poems? I hope that they did not disappear for good. Some of my fav. ones are no longer up. it pisses me off when people do that, erase my fav. poems. I feel so goddamn depraved.


    U8

    I miss you dude.
    | Posted on 2006-06-01 00:00:00 | by screams | [ Reply to This ]
      Well I really enjoyed this though I found it lost a little steam for me in the middle as it abstracted a bit. shook should be shaken gramatically but i suck at grammar I never learned it and shook as is reminds me of an expensive yoga place on the out skirt of zeeleand a strictly christian reformed town to the east. The only other nit picking detail I have is quite petty just another grammer issue just spacing of these two words "anda" cup full of Jagermeisster" i think i shook reads smother than i was shook that'd also correct the grammar, but that's just personal preference. I can't qiute grasp the rhythm in this piece as well as the first I read of yours but other than to continue the repetition of Just F I don't know why you seperated the it. It reads a little award and snags a bit more compared to the fluid nature of the rest of the piece. peace
    | Posted on 2006-05-15 00:00:00 | by shaman | [ Reply to This ]
      
    lovely lady Laila
    lovely little goddess
    in lingerie and latex,
    with our cup-hands
    we talk in loud silence

    I'm falling badly
    like diving into a shallow of coral reef,
    like breakfalling down stone steps
    carved into a steep mountain

    stumped shellshock, raving madly


    in our cup-folds
    on knees at a new altar,
    it's more like a malleable travelling kit
    like a setting for spontaneous deities
    of all and no religion

    swaying like herbs in a timid breeze,
    no leaps, no sway, no flow
    in the breath of naked air

    there must be something sobering
    about my stench
    no amount of liquor or drugs
    can drown out


    I was shook
    like the burnt child
    on two shots of absinthe
    and a cup full of Jagermeister

    shook
    by audio silence and cog-play
    in you and me

    I was shook
    out of a delicate cage,
    a scented and candle-lit
    web of meats

    I was shook
    into the caves,
    dank holes of Truth
    that lie in off-white teeth
    rotting in carbonised cups

    shook
    I fear I must regress
    into the paint that you molest

    look, taste, fold my hands
    around a cup full of pussy


    trembling, tied up,
    karate belt for the left wrist
    kung fu belt for the right wrist

    red and white crazy creek for the legs
    random rough rope in my mouth
    tied up in a body twist

    shook, to rave like ravens
    in the muse of nectar nights
    in the house
    of the eagle-fluttered butterfly
    never once mentioned
    in scripture


    just fuck for a while

    just fuck


    flickers like a blue flame
    in the back of memory clusters


    it burnt
    like revitalising resin
    of ylang ylang and timian,
    jasmine and orange,
    eucalyptus and lemon,
    rosemary and lavender
    on a base of avocado oil


    just fuck it


    love seems

    a fading

    memory



    Right. It's about time I gave you a comment Christian lol. Above is a revision to look at-- I brushed up on some of your typos, dropped your caps as it was haphazardly capped anyway, and put two lines between what I thought to be your strophes/ideas etc. I'm not sure if this is what you were intending but I've given you a bit to mull over.

    One thing I have to mention is this part:
    flickers like a blue flame
    in the back of memory clusters

    -- it doesn't segue right to me, both in rhythmic delivery and imagery. The transition between what's before and what's after clashes... I don't know how best to describe it. I think you could maybe add something in between to flesh this part out-- as it is, it reads out forlornly. Perhaps add brackets/parentheses around this part? Just a thought.

    I also took out two instances of where you had "I mean"-- taking them out does nothing to kill the rhythm I think. It's not needed in my opinion either.

    As for the sonics, they're really interesting. You go from quite noticeable alliteration (L's and N's and S's) then it transitions into your "shook" motif... which is a very catchy sonic hook. All the while your imagery is erotic (ok, who am I kidding here-- it's slightly depraved in a comical way, you horndog lol), talking about natural elements and martial arts (controlled aggression of a sexual kind in my eyes), and throughout this you have another motif running concurrently: herbs and aromas etc... all in all, it's very sexual in connotation and undeniable in what most readers will get out of it. The title is also quite indicative of your intentions-- mantras being conversation, the art of allure perhaps? That's what I get from it.

    Hmm... I'm kinda rambling. There's a lot here to perceive and I haven't told you half of what I infer from this. But I think I've told you enough. And yea, I like it... it's full of crazy energy, you psycho lol.

    I gotta shoot mofo.
    Peace,

    Jase
    | Posted on 2006-06-07 00:00:00 | by alteredlife | [ Reply to This ]
      This is only the second poem of yours that i've read. I hated the first one and really dig the sh.it out of this one. I think that when i favoritize a poem that should be compliment enough...and should seem to indicate that i like it well enough to want to read it again someday. In a way it seems a sacrilege to pick it apart if you like it, and slovenly patronising to lavish praise on it.

    Sorry for all that.

    Anyway, there is in you a liberty of expression that only the young possess. It is at once liberating and difficult to harness. That is perhaps why i did not like the other poem so much...it sort of spiralled out of control and lost its way.

    This poem was a delight to read, because it had that aforememtioned liberty of expression, but never lost its way. The repeated use of 'I was shook' turning into simply 'shook'...and the lines shortening toward an exhausted and complacent surrender at the end is real keen.

    I think that there are problems with line breaks in this poem...but i don't think that they matter, because to me...this seems like a short-form tone poem (if that makes any sense)...and should be read aloud. I'd like to see you rock this bitc.h with a microphone in front of a crowd.

    See now, this is interesting. Seldom have i bothered to bash a poem in a critique like i did that first one i read by you...but then, i don't hesitate to say when i really dig one like this either.

    Guess its not about you or me or the other guy.

    We are what we write.

    This one was a delight to read.

    be well,
    see you around,
    kc
    | Posted on 2006-02-02 00:00:00 | by twacky | [ Reply to This ]
      Did she have you sprung...or what's the deal here? LOL! I know you said that if I put too much though into it I would drown...

    *bubbles*

    Help me out here! I'M DROWNING! LMFAO!

    I can read out of this...in my own little mind here...that you put your guard down and fell in love with a girl that maybe wasn't worth falling in love with but the whole infactuation of her and what she supplied gave you no other choice...so here you are in love and she's not really that busy loving you...but still you hold onto this love only to find out in the end that it wasn't love just pure lust and that love can get you hurt if all you are doing is paying attention to the feelings that the person can provide but not mentally...unless of course you get a mental rush from physical pleasure...then that could make the whole situation even more dangerous...so in the end you said fck it...and put the love behind you...but bitterly.

    LMFAO! You REALLy got me ranting...just imagine if I was on the phone or in person sayin that stuff! LMFAO! I woulda been talking 120 mph! LOL

    If I am wrong...then come and rant on my page of the true meaning of this...k?!

    Much love!

    Li
    | Posted on 2005-12-27 00:00:00 | by Munchie_1226 | [ Reply to This ]


    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?



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