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Shame (Other) by blkarakagain
I've seen angels cowering in the streets, in the gutters, on the corners, lonely and scared, stripped of their ecstatic vision and the intimate union with God, wearing scorn and silent reproach like scars on the body, the soul, the human race; I've heard the anguished wails of the forgotten, riding on the wind, screaming, confessing anything, insisting on nothing but recognition, praying to any god who'll listen to collect their tears and tell their stories of being casually despised by those with well placed smiles, well dressed, and well coiffed; I've felt my way through dark and dreadful places full of deadly objects, ghastly and horrid, breathing carefully, lest I inhale the rot of shit, piss, and corruption; screaming, desperately, to clear away any lingering doubt and drive away the terrible darkness; I've seen rivers of sorrow sweeping away optomism which nothing should be able to unconvince, eating away, eating everything and then turning greedily, hungrily, for more, more, more, gorging on children's sighs, until nothing but lonliness resides; I've heard mad, lunatic laughter echoing through the alleys, touching everything, everyone, noone, arousing bloodlust and a sudden interest in the grusome details of death, burning strange images on the conscience, lulling any who hear, toward the cleansing fame of insanity and release; I feel nothing because I have nothing left, nothing but shame, nothing but a lingering emptiness, where once there was naive joy; I have nothing, I want nothing,...but salt for my wounds, or ground glass, or a place to hide while I scream and forget all the terrible consequences of truth and understanding,...I'm so ashamed, shame on me, shame on you; Don't mistake my brooding diatribe for anything other than unmistakable contempt; I am not happy, nor do I wish to be as long as we all abide this awesome ugliness which greets the most innocent, ....there's nothing quite so embarassing as indifference in the midst of squallor, or unforgiving, I am aware, we are all aware, and yet we tolerate this wretched despair in silence,....shame on us all, shame on me.... most of all.

Up the ladder: A writers creed
Down the ladder: Nature's Plague

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.6
Weighted score: 5.0715218
Overall Rank: 6528
Posted: December 23, 2002 8:48 AM PST; Last modified: December 23, 2002 8:48 AM PST
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Comments:
[7] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 | 23-Dec-02/11:26 AM | Reply
"coiffed" ha ha ha. nice one. "
grusome" bad mispel, the right mispel could be either grewsome, grew-some or just spelling it right. other than that, the last stanzas is kinda 'immature and pitiful' because, action is louder than words, either do something about it on paper, and or something about it in your actual life or quit fucking whining. Simply because you insult any 'real thinker' with your plea, because you obviously have the time, patience, and money to type on a keyboard and submit it here? So, therefore things can't be that dramatically critical in your life. i was at a speed freak russian immigrant with a precious five year old daughters house day before yesterday for 12 hours, her boyfriend and father of her daughter went to jail the day before. Oh yea their house was a apartment building's laundry room...i sat there and colored with that little girl for hours man..fucking out-of-time-bubble, hours.. listening to her mothers stories of how these things all came to be with ever nerve of my body mentally documenting every fiber of disaster gone epic by the second..her mother was 25 with the most beautiful chrystal clear blue eyes you've ever seen the little girl equally bright and hopefull, but i can see the future, and i saw it there..it coated the walls with a stink you've never smelled youngling, pray you don't lest you lose your mind and structure, or maybe that's what you really need. a field trip with me on one of my late night hunts..what do i hunt? what god has forgotten, so either fucking stick your hands in the box and hold it there. because describing the outside of the box just doesn't cut the mustard any more sadly. why? you ever lick plutonium coated devil horns while combing your hair with his pitch fork? that's why. take a seven and a water dunk.
[9] aliena @ 202.56.248.147 | 24-Dec-02/12:08 AM | Reply
Umm... I definitely like this. For the nobility of the sentiments expressed here, take a 9
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