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:icondisrhythmic: More from disrhythmic

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Submitted on
January 8, 2013
Submitted with Writer


19 (who?)

the desertgirls all wear their white dresses,
braids cinched with ribbons wilted
like the crops.
they walk barefoot, and they have learned
how to keep from kicking up
the sand--they have learned
how to be perfectly still.

the scorchwinds start up, and they
stand beneath the rattling ocotillos,
dresses curling and brushing against
calves dark with dust and

they stare.
my god--
they stare such betrayal, such trust,
as though you are the devil
or salvation--as though
they haven't made up their minds.

say what you like.
they won't smile, only
until long after you are out of sight
and the horizon has
swallowed you
And we're back to deserts.
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I was almost going to say the final stanza had reeled me in sliiiiiightly less than the others, then I noticed the very last enjambements: I've never been swallowed up by a desert landscape and pray I never will, but this finale gave just a perfect sense of it. :thumbsup:
Thank you so much!

It's a strange feeling, the nothingness. :nod:
I love me a good desert poem. :heart:
Laitma Jan 11, 2013  Student General Artist
Oooooooooh, lovely, and the title, funnily enough, only added to it as I read it again at the bottom. Hm, curious.
I love the conversational tone of this too, the paradoxical way the view of the girls is being described. Lovely. :heart:
Thank you, love! :heart:
Please do keep on reading your own poetry, too, though. I honestly feel it's the best way to experience it. You know best how to articulate your work with the right meaning, rhythm, and emphasis.

I also want to say this (because all I have to say about this individual piece is just pure, babbling praise): I often have trouble reading very long, poetic prose pieces, which usually seem to happen when a person who is most familiar with poetry crosses over to prose. But I get the feeling your writing would translate so well. I could read an entire novel full of it because of the voice. The way you use language is incredibly intimate, lucid, and full of feeling.

That's all. For now. Love this. :heart:
Oh my goodness, thank you so much. :huggle: That means a whole hell of a lot to me, thank you. :heart:
"hey stare.
my god--
they stare such betrayal, such trust,
as though you are the devil
or salvation--as though
they haven't made up their minds."

Augh. This was a gutpunch. The desert is so perfect for people leaving. I really like "desertgirls" as one word. The first stanza was a bit hazy, perhaps because "white" doesn't have any other color to contrast against and the last four lines say the same thing twice. But it really picks up speed and emotional power from there. Nice work.
Thank you so much! :heart: I'll see if I can't fix up that first stanza and make it more vivid. :)
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