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Trygs

As I remove the sliver of lemon skin from my double, I stare into the face of a man across the room who is getting to that age of implemented lines and softening eyes

     the time and place swallow into the bitterness of heat & a stare
     hidden by cindered lamps and sax and jazz

     (a thin hugh of alabaster auburn)
         filters a hard stare into a curious face
     with syrup eyes and long wire brows.

     turning his face for a lengthy dwell out the window
         to a terrace sprinkled with light shells,
     the man tastes long gone glass and whiskey,  
         
           the women at the tall table close to him
           prickle at the sight and smell of the brown under his        
     slightswinging arms; the brown that remains there despite the      
     bleach and bleach

     as their long dark eyes lift to his,
           (a quick glance turns into a swell of stare)
     the brown is all over the whites of his eyes
           
the brown drains the hard lust from her gaze and steps aside again.
     
—then

     when he looks back into my face,
         he sees someone familiar. someone he lay lax and soft next to for (countless moments),
         someone he woke up next to one morning – seeing his reflection in the ceiling paint, feeling the look age gives you when you wake,

     someone he would have given for, someone he gave for, someone he left

—THE YOUTH ABOUT YOUR WIFE'S FACE WOULD HAVE BEEN ENOUGH . . .

All he can manage is a nod to the life he left and leaves and will always leave, then a turn of the jaw back to the comforting window, but the terrace is long gone, and the shells remain

Author notes

i went to a jazz bar tonight -called Trygs- to accompany my friend while she attempted to introduce herself to a married man she met online. . . she and i were unaware of his marital status at the time. . . there was something about his face.

i want to describe the scene - but the event and images are fresh in my mind. . . i need to borrow your eyes please, tell me what you see

and what sounds off . . . please pick at least one thing that just doesnt sound right and tell me why
Written November 12th, 2005

What did you think

    I plan to revise this poem: please leave constructive criticism!
    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
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Comments

  • divexintoxlife
    November 28, 2005
    Edit | Reply
    thanks for your comment, ive been letting it sit unedited for a while. i thought i could look back at it with a different perspective after getting over the shock of a married man dilemma. . . but i still haven’t gotten over it haha and maybe i wont. So ill keep the shock and

    your critique gave me a different way of looking at it - because of what you said about it not sounding like me. . . now that i think about it and re-read it - i agree - its weird though. I dunno, its like i watched it all happen from inside someone else, some woman. . . even at bar i felt that way, maybe that’s why it sounds so foreign

    im excited to rework it - im glad and thankful that you picked at it - i was hoping someone would . . . Your comment helped (probably more than i even realize right now... everything you said about movement and format & images will come in handy with editing) - i like the poem overall, but i know its off. after i edit it if you are around for a comment - that would be helpful, thanks again. hope your thanksgiving break was very nice


  • jonnyfaint
    November 27, 2005
    Edit | Reply
    this was interesting coming from you, i doesn't sound like you to me... its nice, the beginning has alot of cool images but i think you can condense them more. They aren't lofty or anything but they don't give me as much as they could. like without reading what it was about, my patients with this poem wouldn't last long.

    Also, i'd work with the movement of the poem. I seems like as soon as you hit the fifth stanza the poem starts moving and then when i hit the end of the poem, it doesnt do much for me. It seems like you try an wrap it up with that last part "and the shells remain "

    but i don't think it really look me there, it would be cool if you left me in an awkword place... but, i dunno, this is your poem

    overall the beginning was nice but i think the flow could be worked with and... i dunno i can't put my finger on it but something else.

    sorry to pick at your poem but you asked, haha, and sorry it took me a long time to read this

    ohh, it would be cool if you messed with the lines, in the format that they are in, they are hard for me to take. they seem really long and slow to me but without any flow (i can't explain flow) to influence my thoughts. It just seems to go and when i get there i don't really notice... but you may be asking the reader to really examine the denotation of each line, then you would be in the right... but, i guess i like to read to see something in myself...this just might be a difference in taste
    Edited on Nov 27, 10:39 p.m. because ''.