Little Dakota sat at the vanity
on the pink and gold chair,
staring into the mirror,
that was surrounded
by light bulbs,
in the strippers changing lounge.
She was just six when the girls
started doing her hair,
while she waited for her mother,
who was in the next room,
injecting holes into her lonely soul.
She plays with the makeup
and hangs old Camel cigarettes packs
in the bordello windows on her Paris street.
Laughing as she kicks empty wine bottles
against the wall,
to annoy the patrons.
In the back the girls hurried by,
changing their wardrobes,
and loving Dakota.
Kissing her in their haste,
hugging her like she was their very own.
Dakota was never ashamed of her mother,
she would love to see her laugh
and joke with the other women,
as they waited their turn to perform.
They both ride the bus now.
They are returning to their home.
Once inside,
Dakota wants her hug.
Her mother holds her tight,
and strokes her hair.
As she drifts off to sleep,
into her waiting dreams.
Author notes
Inspiration....
Art Garfunkel's song....
Mary Was An Only Child.
In a list
A contest entry
- Best Prewrites. by Simone Brooklyn.
700 points, ended January 18, 65 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - 1000 points, 1000 pws by Shadow Anonymised.
1000 points, ended November 23, 1039 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Comments
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For within your words are the hopes and dreams of the soul of a child and yet the child is the soul...you have shown love can survive in any place are time...you have matched the song my brother...excellent read...Niaish for sharing it with me
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Aww... I love this so much... the imagery you've painted is fabulous and it makes it so enjoyable to read, though the story itself is lovely and sentimental. I had fun reading every word of it. Though, I can't help feeling that there is some underlying metaphor here, perhaps? I don't think it's based on one, but I feel there might be one there, briefly. Is this the case?
A fascinating write brother
Jess x
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WindsAngel said it all. I love it.
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Dakota...what a great name for a child. Lowell, you did another outstanding work and this one proves yoru talent. Good imagery. I even liked the notes. THANKS AGAIN!
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"Mother is God in the eyes of a child." They can do no wrong. I really liked the imagery I had here, and even though they may not be 'acceptable' in terms of the regular society, they are still people and can love too. It was a beautiful write and I'm glad I read it.
In the back the girls hurried by,
changing their wardrobes,
and loving Dakota.
~WindsAngel~
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Wow...that's very powerful. Love the ballad type feel you get without using the usual 8-line form. It's conversational, which makes it more accessible. Loved that last stanza. Not every broken home is fully realized even by those that live it. Cheers!
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Great job! I love the sensation this poem speaks....
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Wowza this is really good ^_^. It flows well and is a great work. I love the name Dakota like a loto f people hmm weird.......Anyway this poem is AMAZING, I love it every line is beauitful ^_^. Very very great job on this poem, Better then anything I could ever write. =]. Keep up the great work in all your poems!
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Wow... I love this...
Little Dakota, I have always loved that name, it was a contender when we decided on Kylie.
I love the love in this poem.... vulnerable, dysfunctional, but true to heart. I love how the poem is all about Dakota, but with out saying much, it's so much about her mother too- at least to me.
"She plays with the makeup
and hangs up old Camel cigarettes packs
in the bordello windows on her Paris street.
Laughing as she kicks empty wine bottles
against the wall,
to annoy the patrons."
These lines are deep and moving.... maybe they are meant about Dakota, but I feel they could also describe Mommy...
Two girls, just trying to make it through...
Stunning, Liam, stunning!
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Well first things first...your AN's...'your' should be 'you're' apart from that, this is a nice story poem that could use a little more metaphor in the showing of things rather than just the telling of a narrative. But it is a good strong start. Some editing may make it great. Love, C
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yes i have corrected that...thanks for your thoughts.
i like things erratic and inconclusive....lol
yes...random facts are built around a thin story...but if you look back ...i do that a lot...i try to make precision elusive....lol
Thanks you so much for taking the time and giving your thoughts...i shall ponder them.
LOWELL
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I love the premise of this poem. It's sad if taken literally but the underlying effect is that instead of having lost one mother, she has gained several. Having said that, this stanza in particular, stops my heart:
"She was just six when the girls
started doing her hair,
while she waited for her mother,
who was in the next room,
injecting holes in her lonely soul."
Injecting holes in her lonely soul makes me shudder so powerful are the words. If this is madness, then I aspire to join you for I see only magic.
Bravo, sweet friend!
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Intrancing
I love how you used the life of a stripper's daughter. It is common enough around here...lol. I am appreciative of the fact that you chose to portray her as loved by all instead of a sad and downtrodden little lass. Great read. ~gypsy~
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