It was white and woven.
I was surely drunk, but I bet it was a doily
An entire garment made from stolen doilies
That's an exciting notion; She was brick headed
& Round yet petite & tight like a dancer or whore
That takes herself seriously should be
Lips pinched sideways
Capable hips, and a very soft expression of always
She loved to fuck standing up in the shower
And here I am that impressionable still
She had one child, a son, but the dad beat her,
And she worked the joint -- A real tough spot too
(The Casba [a strip club on Washington in Whittier])
Dancing and whipping up cheap beer on tap
For the Mexican fat backs and Pisa’s, peckerwoods
And Afros -- I immediately fell in love
It was the right thing to do
Teach her how to read the stars
And watch the hair on my chest grow
My teeth grind away squares
The moon, fatten and drive us out
It's blurry now, but you are not
Your Spanish was impeccable
Your ass, two pillows fighting
for freedom in the bowels
Of industry and new age sacrifices
I thought of when we fucked
On that fallen pine in the mountains
A fairy tale, everything but us, enormous
And we tried to make the moss work,
While the ants made off with our fruit
I had been looking for the perfect woman
But that was on the backs of my eyes
While you, you were still dancing up front.
In a list
A contest entry
- of Beauty by cvillelisa.
425 points, ended December 21, 2006, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Slightly over-stretched I would say. Brackets within brackets is less than elegant. And unnecessary, surely? What's moss work? Confusing.........
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"Round yet petite & tight like a dancer or whore
That takes herself seriously should be
Lips pinched sideways
Capable hips, and a very soft expression of always
She loved to fuck standing up in the shower
And here I am that impressionable still"
Hell yes. This is the best work I've read in a very long time. I'm not one to use this term lightly, but incredible this is.
Your word choice and quiet observational style are a fine match for one another, and you make them one.
Keep them coming. Very well done.
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Amazing Like always
This poem is amazing like always. You have a way with words. A way of capturing your audiance and drawing them in with the words and flow of your poems. This poem is amazing. the words are dictated perfectly. It is a beautiful piece. You are a truly amazing poet. good luck in the contest. Again a beautiful piece, great job
take care
countrychick06
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Well Done
For me this is a standout in a very good contest.[to read]
Lips pinched sideways
Capable hips, and a very soft expression of always
Loving that passage. The whole of it is very well written and a unique approach to the subject. No cliche here. When you have a longer piece going well, you realise you will need a perfect end. This one nailed it.
Thanks for a good read and best of luck.
Peace
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As I've been reading all these Beauty poems, I've been picking out the stand out (for me) lines in the poems, right here:
It was the right thing to do
Teach her how to read the stars
My teeth grind away squares
The moon, fatten and drive us out
Your ass, two pillows fighting
for freedom in the bowels
Of industry and new age sacrifices
I thought of when we fucked
On that fallen pine in the mountains
A fairy tale, everything but us, enormous
And we tried to make the moss work,
While the ants made off with our fruit
Personally, I'd end the poem right there. And perhaps begin the poem with your ending lines.
I was saying to Anasuya yesterday that I am not partial to I poems -- thing is I realized what I mean is I poems that are all about the I. There is I in this poem but the poem is all about her. Your I does not make me feel like this poem is all about you.
( Honestly, I think sometimes, though I will certainly be crucified for this, females can't get out of their own way when writing poems, and we tend to write them very I centered, female ego thing but Christ don't tell anyone I said that ... ).
You see the Libertine? Course you probably did. I kind of have a crush on Wilmot, though hundreds of years dead and full of syphilis. I remember, now reading this why your writing spelled me. Thanks so much .. Libra, I have a difficult time judging, bear with me.
Hope you and the family are well this holiday season..
Lisa
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Fucking hell! You just nearly gave an old man a heart attack! I don't usually have the sound turned up on the laptop.
The poem as ever, burrows into the reader's head, unfolds and reveals more the more times I read it.
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this is truly beautiful...every stanza is complete...the end is perfect. I love, "capable hips." "Brick headed and Round yet petite..." This is a great poem. Read some of mine, I'd like your opinion
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oh can't even begin to express my thoughts...on this, all i can say your words rock...you are the man!
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