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Plastic Souls by Ray Printer Friendly

Slick listening and heartburn heart-to-hearts,

Anyone can pretend to care.

Lead-painted love,

Destroying under the influence.


Tell me I am your all-of-it,

Play your favorite songs,

Beg me

To listen to the lyrics.


Invite me into your everything.


I dare you.


We'll ignore your rug-burned knees

And dirty love,

And your wonderful sins

That make Heaven shutter

In ecstasy.


Hate me with the sunrise,

But love me through the night,

Because we are two empty shadows

Without the light

To wash us away.


Everything burns when you live under the truth,

Constant observation is an ache

That can only be itched

With blatant disregard.


Scorch me with your Rated-R thoughts,

Wash your mouth out with swear words and gin,

And touch me where I'd tell you not to,

If I was being dishonest.


Criminals dance under full moons,

And promise each other eternity.


Love is not so different.


posted 8/16/09


Comments:
Entered By James From Austin
2009-08-17 01:24:36

"Hate me with the sunrise," I like that line a lot. Overall, I like the structure of the poem, the fact that it is a collection of strong images and evocative words without a concrete reference. However, there is some phrasing in the poem that takes me, as a reader, out of the feeling of intensity and ineffability I think you are trying to create: "heartburn heart-to-hearts" the repition here seems to be sort of a gimmicky trick to create a poetic affect , "Hate me with the sunrise, /But love me through the night," the unnuanced parallelism of these two lines right next too each other is kind of corny, "Everything burns when you live under the truth," this statement, with the appeal to 'truth' is too abstract and syllogistic in the confines of the rest of the poem, "Rated-R thoughts" perhaps this is just me, but using this phrase is too pop-culture-y and trite to describe the human drama that you are trying to represent. I would start the poem with the last three lines, which are very good, and use them to build an internal mental verbal universe to paint the rest of the poem.


Entered By From
2009-08-24 23:06:09

I'm with stoopid. ^



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