Each moment weighs
Hard to press by her
Each moment comes into
Action precedes thought
Her words are standing exposed and bare
And each sip
That parts her lip
Traps another stare
This night
like time
another fight she will lose
Beneath the growing dust
She found something to dull the edge of gray
Like an armor of silence
It aids her lies
Coercing confidence in her speech
Even adding words of pity
for some poor soul in a strangers conversation
But as she turns her back to them
She hears whispers grow louder
Only just now learning
This armor only makes you weak
Glass cuts the air and floor
Cutting into the void
That surrounds this room
Light shines on fingers with unleveled color
As each moment comes into
Left realizing she was you
Author notes
This is about a once beautiful woman who has trouble accepting she's getting old so she turns to drinking and finally realizes that she's become an embarrassment when she gets drunk at a party and notices everyone watching her make a fool out of herself
A contest entry
- Days of Dark by Vampstress.
375 points, ended January 25, 2007, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - AP Book Contest-- get published! by tinuelena.
900 points, ended September 19, 2007, 30 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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As I read this several folks I know came into mind...in my part of the world we have a real issue with women dressing like aging biker chicks. A few of them have old men with HOGS, most don't. I wonder if they will ever look in the mirror and say-"I am 35,47,51 and I don't look good in this anymore, I look kind of silly. Problem is all of the older guys hoping to recapture their lost youth willing to buy that drink in the attempt at...
I sing locally and am always amazed at the number of people who strive to find a lost youth that was most likely never theirs to begin with.
Peace
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My suggestions: Clarify the idea and try some more metaphorical images. I didn't know who the subject was until I reached the author's notes... I was imagining a suicidal girl, probably because of the high use of "crimson" in those sorts of poems and the mention of death. And never would I have guessed the lady's old and dying-- a few lines suggest death, one suggests getting older, but I'm getting older too.
Paint us a real, tangible portrait. I'll leave this in the contest... let me know if you edit at all.
Elizabeth -
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thanks that was really helpful and I decided to change a few things you can tell me if its better
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Nice Vessel
Your poem carried the awkwardness of these moments well. I reread it after your author's notes. It takes about 15 seconds to read this, and its that same 15 seconds that the air hangs still while our lies are revealed. I challenge you on the only things that never die being Words and Death. Check out John 11:25 and 10:10 in the New Testament. Good work -
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are you trying to say i stole that line because ive never read the bible so im preety offended if you are
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thank you, you really understand exactly what i was talking about thats a first for any of my poems which makes feel glad that this might be a poem that has universal message and not poor people who have heard it all before
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Good
A genuine evaluation of the human condition.When we live in a world where truth no longer matters, lies become the standard fare and our world become distorted by our twisted fantasies.When we are confronted by reality, our illusions are shattered and the residue becomes like shards of broken glass lying scattered about our feet.
Good write. -
yeah i fixed it thanks
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