1. Sideshadows
There will be no weeping at that end,
the exploded words lying in the damp blood.
Ipswich of the down cycle, tumbled dry
New Rome re-carpeted in a pink pile
Denial like a long coat with gray buttons
the jade swept up from the bottom of the Nile
Change the channel now or rebound with the curse
the black bile of the witches dripping on your chest.
simplex. The laity undressed by the side of the river,
The crippled herons dip their heads uneasily.
the dreams cannot be placed on an empty palate
the desert leans compactly towards the sea.
Obscene at the end of the Act the ingenue malformed
the cloud retreats only to reform.
Much that is spit out is not germane to the seed
at the cotillion the ladies hide behind their fans.
2. sonnet with couplet
to what purpose, Mr. Silliman?
Mary Jane on the float at loose ends
over the boy who stole the garden hose,
her thighs chafed by the nylon
the wind distresses her hair in odd directions,
in which case this is when the scream ends.
Lazily parting the seams with a marker pen,
cecil directing Charlton to raise his arms,
but seriously,
it has more to do with Mr. Wilson’s Bloom,
at that moment when Dennis distracted him,
and there were five years gone,
memory is this deep dark place
coated in celluloid, the hooks rusty
and almost worn away
a flashlight is nearly useless in the vaginal contortions
of the tongue searching for blank verse
or something even worse
in the dark curse of your mortality
strangling words.
3. Rattle
Inviolate commentary of pilgrims
come to invest in the altar
sweet basin for their coins
arabesque the shorn columns
the bare breasts under short vests
the immediate frets of the broken word--
blest by its occurrence
in the essence of your dog shit
a heart worm eats its way through your chest
projected as if the verse would coalesce
the white cells pale and sugarless
the old glass jars overturned in the cellar
the myths dispelled
the servitude of Cupid ended
with a swift shot from your bow
In a list
A contest entry
- An AllPoetry Extravaganza-3 Month Gold and Silver Membership by Violet Moodswing.
3000 points, ended September 11, 2007, 28 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Thanks for your entry. Excellent write and presentation. Best of luck in the contest.
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three in one creative.
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Thank you for your entry into the Allpoetry Legacy contest. A unique and very creative write. Good luck in the contest.
Paul -
Wow. This is long and strong, the details and imagery just jump out to attack you, wonderful!
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An excellent piece of poetry.
You use vocabulary, imagery and emotion. Truly a great piece - and I will be back to comment more appropriately. -
Thank you for your entry in the contest. This was very detailed, and you've done a great job
I wish you the best of luck!
- BrokenWingsFly - -
HARK!
Poetry!
Thank you for entering the Legacy contest. This seems to me to be about the loss of poetry in the modern world -- the stripping of the soul, the deadening spirit of verse.
No, Cupid will not die just like Aphrodite did not die. Perhaps they hide in the shadows but alas, we are humans and despite ourselves
we function our very best when buffeted by the currents of Love. In all her glorious pain.
Yes tis true it is sad times
but when people remind us of what is being lost well then, we are reminded we must hold tight.
Excellent use of almost form in Part 1 and the non-sonnet is reminiscent of Mr. Pound's Villanelle that wasn't.
The characters of Part 2 bring the poem to Life and the concluding lines of Part 3 are
heartbreaking to this vurry romantic individual.
Wonderful work. Legacy .. of Poetry to the next generation.
Lisa
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Earlier today I left a comment on someone's poem which had a painting as its inspiration- I said that particular painting always made me want to paint, or try to paint, not just because of the inspiration of the subject but the aspiration to create something as perfect as I percieve that painting to be. This poem does that too. More than any other poem I have read recently, this poem makes me want to try to write and write into what I write something as rich as this in structure, imagery, story and art.
Every single line is loaded like a Japanese brush heavy with ink, but like a Japanese calligrapher's brush only the correct amount of ink required is released with each stroke of the kanji.
I very much had the feel of Chaucer and Pilgrimage, the characters, the irony, humour, venom - perhaps the reference to 'Ipswich' although this could have many connotations within different aspects of the poem also- perhaps it is a pivotal point. I am sure Ipswich is not a random choice of town.
I can't really justify picking out any lines, but in a kind of personal way, because there is no way that anyone could possibly share this image with me (not even another compusive-obsessive)
"Denial like a long coat with gray buttons
the jade swept up from the bottom of the Nile"
This is so vivid for me because I have and have had over the years many long coats with grey buttons as part of the many historical costumes I use- This actually gave me a visual image of someone half kneeling to expose white knee britches through the parted taillets of an 18th century grey wool frock coat with buttons fashioned from flattened lead musket balls. Like I said, I am sure no one else could have had that vision from your words. It is all to do with merchants and wool and Ipswich and the witch prickers of the New World.
edit- I forgot to finish this bit, for what it is worth-
'the 'jade swept up for the bottom of the Nile'
I know has a significance and is a reference to something that escapes me, but here of course , with the other image, suggests the Grand Tour and exotica of the scientific and glorious revolution.
The Eliotesque section well, as a student history of England from the very first neanderthal grunts of the Nomadic tribes that were cut off here on the Island of Britannia when the continental isthmus was covered by the waters gushing down the channel as the ice cap melted up to the 20th century- I had no difficulty in listening to the Shakesperherian Rag chorus between Acts.
There is so much more that I could pull out for musing upon and discussion with myself here, but I am beginning to think I am being very self indulgent with this comment.
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Blown away and blown up by this entry, simply amazing Love, C
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Do you have an Ipswich o'er there Mistah.. as I went out with a guy from Ipswich o'er here, who was/is a base guitarist with a famous-ish punk band called -The Adicts ... lololol.. not that that had anything to do with your piece, it was the mention of Ipswich that sparked my mind
as for the rest of the piece... I'll be back and back for more pieces of sonnet pie... as I can't eat a whole pie in one sitting..
this needs cream and sugar
like a swooning lady, like an old love, like the slingshot of a broken heart and body... this swerves like a shuttlecock through the air
- audible, yes ....
more pie -
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Stellar
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