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LoveBug
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0 posted 2002-11-25 07:55 PM


Reaching down into the depths of darkness
I feel around, searching for the source
Of pain, I feel for what causes all the sin
I scratch and dig, but should I feel remorse
When I come up with nothing
Or when I see my hand covered in blood?

I don't exactly know why I keep searching
Or why I care not that my form is scarred
From looking, seeking, trying to destroy
The things that make our living here so hard
But still I search through the darkness
Until I bleed no more

Most of us go to our grave with our music still inside of us.

© Copyright 2002 Erica N. - All Rights Reserved
Poet deVine
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Hurricane Alley
1 posted 2002-11-25 09:38 PM


I like where this is going - like the concept. What brought this to your muse?
Kielo
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since 2002-02-11
Posts 1109

2 posted 2002-11-25 09:54 PM


Wow. This was very impressive. By that I mean that the poem was formidable, rather large... Very cool.

Kielo

According to statistics, a man eats a prune every twenty seconds. I don't know who this fellow is, but I know where to find him.
-Morey Amsterdam

Local Parasite
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Transylconia, Winnipeg
3 posted 2002-11-26 01:51 PM


The question at the end of your first stanza really, really struck me.  I'm not sure though, is the word "remorse" quite the one you were looking for?  If it is, then I'm having trouble pinpointing exactly what the question means... you would feel remorse for your search for knowledge?  You would feel remorse for subjecting yourself and others to the pain of the quest, perhaps?

quote:
I feel around, searching for the source
Of pain, I feel for what causes all the sin


So you're searching for the source of sin.  On your way, your hands get a bit cut up from scratching and all that... what are you digging through?  Other people?  Is the blood entirely yours?

quote:
I don't exactly know why I keep searching
Or why I care not that my form is scarred


This indicates that you don't mind the pains you've endured along the way.

quote:
But still I search through the darkness
Until I bleed no more


And here you seem to say that your motivation is that someday the pain will end.

I think this poem could be a bit more clear... if there's some difference between scars and bleeding, it might help to better establish what it is.  Know what I mean?  

A very cool concept.  And the description really lends to the mood excellently.  Digging and scratching, bleeding hands... gave me that special feeling in the pit of my stomach that I only get when reading pitch dark poetry.  What a strong image.

I'm hanging in curiousity of this poem.

Parasite

Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.
~Aldous Huxley

Cpat Hair
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4 posted 2002-11-26 02:01 PM


yeah...what parasite said...

I'm hanging here wanting to understand better the motivation and the things inside the poem...

enjoy the idea and like that the digging deep is often painful...to get to the root of the issue if you will...



LoveBug
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5 posted 2002-11-26 03:42 PM


"is the word "remorse" quite the one you were looking for?  If it is, then I'm having trouble pinpointing exactly what the question means... you would feel remorse for your search for knowledge?  You would feel remorse for subjecting yourself and others to the pain of the quest, perhaps?"

Yes... remorse is the exact word I was looking for. I'm asking "Should I feel bad that I'm hurting myself in doing this"? and "Should I feel bad that I'm still failing at this, although I'm giving so much of myself"?

On your way, your hands get a bit cut up from scratching and all that... what are you digging through?  Other people?  Is the blood entirely yours?

I'm digging through the past. Nothing returns without being cut up from that. The blood is mine alone

"I don't exactly know why I keep searching
Or why I care not that my form is scarred

This indicates that you don't mind the pains you've endured along the way."


Not exactly... I keep doing it but I don't understand why I don't care that I'm hurting myself. I know that I should care, but I don't. You see what I'm trying to say?

I think this poem could be a bit more clear...

Well friend, I thought your opinion was that the last one was TOO clear

if there's some difference between scars and bleeding, it might help to better establish what it is.

Scars are old, bleeding is new. Thats all...

Thanks for the input, everyone. I guess it's confusing, but it's just about reaching into my past and looking back on the millions of screw-ups, and one screw-up in particular. Thanks, everyone.

Most of us go to our grave with our music still inside of us.

Cpat Hair
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6 posted 2002-11-26 06:58 PM


I don't think you are confusing...nor did I find the poem confusing. It just seemed that there were things left unsaid that might be hinted at if nothing else in the body of the poem that would have tied the reader closer to the actual feeling inside you....

writing from our own personal pain and experience is hard at times..and sometimes the poems we write exploring those things are very meaningful to us personally, but may not seem quite as clear to others around us... doesn't mean they are bad or that they need to be written in a different way..they are just so personal that they belong to us...and to heck if anyone else gets them or not..or likes them or not. I've often written of something personal and then gone back and written it over several different ways...and each time it was written it seemed I found a new piece of myself...

hope you find all the pieces...and I know you will if you keep looking.


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