Convention of the Custodians of the Chatroom Elysium

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The poem is a condensation of my experience in a chatroom. The names of people I met in the chatroom are intricately woven into the text of the poem. Interacting with these people from different parts of the world pursuing different dreams and occupations, inspired various sensations in me. The poem is my attempt to capture those sensations which represent my response to and interpretation of each of those character's online personalities.

Submitted: May 30, 2008

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Submitted: May 30, 2008

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The beginning of Vexing shadows
Is a tree of fears
Whose roots run deep in the
Sea of faith
 
Ladyoiseau peels back romance
From embracing shadows draped in lavender mists
Meirou rides the crests of waves, combing the tresses of the ocean
With a comb designed by Emmie Othman
And then Medeaqn unfolds her net
Pretty cobalt blue anemones laugh on in ignorance, the clown fish
Peep out
Leoswill roars a warning from the forest
I will not become a meal for the Crunchy chocolate frog
 
Gloom haunts the corner near the French windows
Where the trellis of lies dangles
Suspended by the strand of truth
Our Lady of Intrepid will not tell
 
Kali Ice heart stares appalled
At the evidence of life’s errors
The sifting and the sampling
Of emotions better left unexplored
Then comes the Aspiring actor
Seeking meaning out of all the egocentric circles,
The murder and black blood in Raskolnikov’s complex
The wonder and confusion
Sends them for some indoctrination at the feet of Volimeskote
Who can turn water into wine
But is even more adept at turning death into life
 
So like a megalith, this weight of vexing shadows, monolithic
The jade-amber of my thoughts
And then I give a holler and a shrill whistle
Screeching to a halt beside me, comes my ticket, my ride-
Lola the car chick
At the only gas station for miles out, we stop
And observe a dryad conjuring the juice of broken cacti shrubs
Into pink tequila
I make space and she joins us in the truck:
With a chuckle she tells us her name is French blue chick
We ride out into the endless night: a night of possibilities…


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