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Clorophorm Dreams

Can't you see?
You're killing me.

Slowly feeding me poison
Slowly digging my grave
Soaking words in clorophorm
Dissolving my body whole
Til there's nothing left to save

I ride the back of a bullet
That pierces thru my own breast
You cast an entrancement
I die in fitful unrest

Submitted: Saturday, September 08, 2012


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A little something about....whatever you imagine it to be about. Not sure it's finished, if you have any suggestions please leave them. Thanks.

Comments about this poem (Dervishes and Mastery by Aria Siren )

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  • Sandy Player (2/6/2014 3:01:00 PM)

    Chloroform; Trichloromethane; Formyl trichloride; Methane trichloride; Methyl trichloride; Methenyl trichloride. All names of the same chemical compoun. kinda neat about that because you specifically left this poem open to individual interpretation and it already parallels that through the wide choice of names derived from the compound.

    Obviously, it would be my basic guess that the contextual role of the Chloroform in this poem is as the anaesthetic used in the 19th century, largely without re regulation until the inhaler administration was introduced. Primarily, it was an anaesthetic with risk; a way of coping with possibly fatal side-effects. In this way it can be compared to coping methods of today; alcohol, street drugs or even just bottling up your emotions and letting them wreck your insides whilst there's no sweat outwardly. There is definitely an element of harm, and most likely self-inflicted whether intended or not (flying a bullet through your own chest; posing oneself against oneself)

    Taking all that as given, it immediately seems plausible to suggest that the I and the you in this poem are just the persona's rational mind and their dangerous behaviour respectively. Certainly, it contains many personal elements which would support this; coming in straight with a question (indicating familiarity) , analysing so starkly the damage which is being caused (no sense of needing to hold anything back also suggesting familiarity) and the mention of my own breast associated as the home of heart, love and maternal care.

    As with respects to additions, I don't see anything needing to be done. It has a message for anyone reading it and and it would be in danger of losing itself if it it wound and wound and wound especially as it is built of short sentences.

    Intriguing.
    Got my attetion and my time.
    Albeit late.
    But ah well.
    Keeps it living longer eh?

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Sandy Player (2/6/2014 2:59:00 PM)

    Chloroform; Trichloromethane; Formyl trichloride; Methane trichloride; Methyl trichloride; Methenyl trichloride. All names of the same chemical compoun. kinda neat about that because you specifically left this poem open to individual interpretation and it already parallels that through the wide choice of names derived from the compound.

    Obviously, it would be my basic guess that the contextual role of the Chloroform in this poem is as the anaesthetic used in the 19th century, largely without re regulation until the inhaler administration was introduced. Primarily, it was an anaesthetic with risk; a way of coping with possibly fatal side-effects. In this way it can be compared to coping methods of today; alcohol, street drugs or even just bottling up your emotions and letting them wreck your insides whilst there's no sweat outwardly. There is definitely an element of harm, and most likely self-inflicted whether intended or not (flying a bullet through your own chest; posing oneself against oneself)

    Taking all that as given, it immediately seems plausible to suggest that the I and the you in this poem are just the persona's rational mind and their dangerous behaviour respectively. Certainly, it contains many personal elements which would support this; coming in straight with a question (indicating familiarity) , analysing so starkly the damage which is being caused (no sense of needing to hold anything back also suggesting familiarity) and the mention of my own breast associated as the home of heart, love and maternal care.

    As with respects to additions, I don't see anything needing to be done. It has a message for anyone reading it and and it would be in danger of losing itself if it it wound and wound and wound especially as it is built of short sentences.

    Intriguing.
    Got my attetion and my time.
    Albeit late.
    But ah well.
    Keeps it living longer eh?

  • Alla Simone (9/15/2012 9:36:00 PM)

    I have nothing to add. I think this piece is tied up well. It's succinct yet it sticks with you as good poetry should. Thanks for sharing.

  • Søren Valentine (9/14/2012 3:10:00 PM)

    I really like it. I feel as though it has a lot of feeling in it for being a short poem. I don't think you should add to it...right now. Lol

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