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3/28/2025 for National Poetry Month Poetry Contest sponsored by Crystol Woods

Limb from limb, tear me apart. Put me in a case with chains. Cut out my bleeding heart. In the river, toss my remains. Don't leave any stains. In the cold, my pieces shiver. Piranhas gladly clean my bones. Alligators eat my liver. I'm erased, tied down with stones, Wicked winds, bear my moans.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 3/29/2025 10:45:00 AM
winds?, maybe instead of wind? I care. How dark your ink turned for this challenge, plunging me into that river with you. I didn't wanna go, but couldn't help following through. You caused that, you poetically take the reader with you, meanpants ... CayCay
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David Crandall
Date: 3/30/2025 8:10:00 PM
Haha, sorry about that CayCay! Yep, I don't know where that came from...just popped into my head. It's not hard for me to imagine myself in a position where I hated or persecuted, even though I'm not...to my knowledge (now). I have a lot of trouble with singular vs. plural. I'm taking your suggestion, because I can't really tell which is best?
Date: 3/29/2025 5:53:00 AM
Wow! We only wonder if this person was deserving of such a fate or does this erase the shame.
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David Crandall
Date: 3/29/2025 8:27:00 AM
Hmm, your comments are making me think about this strange poem. I have an interpretation, but I'll leave it as a mystery.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things