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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Take my word for itdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: TD
    ASL Info:    34/f/Aust
    Elite Ratio:    8 - 92/81/21
    Words: 262
    Class/Type: Poetry/Longing
    Total Views: 710
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1606



    Description:
       I encourage thoughts, feedback, impressions and anything else...... thanx!


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

    dotsTake my word for itdots
    -------------------------------------------


    He kept a tidy, small life– or it kept him there.
    The bustle around him,
    Outside of him, rejected him,
    While he lived off the vicarious vestiges of vivacity:
    A flurry of breakfast cereals and jostling for the ironing board,
    Snatches of conversation about a day's events, the rostered resents.
    He avoided his reflection in their eyes,
    As if to say, it's no time for good-byes.

    And I call back what I failed to say,
    And said instead, that he was all I needed.
    I see it all so clearly now, how we hugged and shared
    Our thoughts about the other. Take my word for it,
    His tidy life would have been upset, but he,
    All the happier for it; his one dying wish.

    Yet wishes are worth less when wishes are all you have,
    And regrets always turn up
    After the plates are cleared away.

    Later, with the last guest turned aside, he neglected
    His tidy, small life and bashed
    On the door outside.
    Though he never complained
    Or said he was hurt
    By the indifferent silence, I still feel his pain;
    ...... absences explained
    Are absences all the same.

    And when he died I wallowed in a world of grief,
    For a life and love treated so brief.
    I walked into his tidy room among the disregard,
    Abandonment and inattention – there I saw
    A doppelganger of convention.
    If only they had listened to
    The words a gentle man did not say,
    He would not have left that way.




    Submitted on 2006-03-15 09:13:34     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      From the moment my eyes scanned the first few lines, I was hooked. Alliteration, I've learned, drags people right into any piece of any thing, as does with your "vicarious, vestiges, vivacity."
    Food seemed to be a an underlying theme in this work, but for what reason I fail to see, even as I go back and reread. I have the impression this person has already died before he actually did. Then again, I suppose when regrets and unfulfilled wished rear their heads, it takes major portions out of everyone.
    Call me somewhat naive, but like shaman, I am quite unclear on what 'doppleganger' means. Your poetry has such a consistancy to it, that at points the literal and the implied blend together, which for this this certain piece, works well.
    ~Truffs
    | Posted on 2006-03-16 00:00:00 | by Trufflepiggy | [ Reply to This ]
      I've reread this a couple times. I don't understand if his death is literal or figurative at this time, though the poem hints at litteral. What's a doppleganger? Normally the alitteration is one of my favorite attributes but in this line it seems forced/ out of place
    "While he lived off the vicarious vestiges of vivacity" the ailitteration here make the line more difficult to interpret and feels out of place because you didn't continue to use any through out the piece. The perfect rhyme of eyes and bye also struck me as being a bit out of place. The story was well conveyed and I certainly know by your description that he was tidy. I'm also guessing that you are not so tidy? I know I'm not. anyway it's not a bad piece but those couple things struck me as slightly out of place peace
    | Posted on 2006-03-15 00:00:00 | by shaman | [ Reply to This ]


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