"a sort of nodal point in the flux,"
an archaic intersection
pointillist, the needlework favors
lavenders and pinks
a vague erotica
his stench essential
to the rot between her thighs,
her tongue tasting the skin.
the ennui of such spleen
modernist in her airs
the book of august thought
rests upon the crease
of her summer dress
the cavity of her unrest
the detritus of Myth
lacquered hair
smooth legs
the empty endowments of days
that leave nothing but a loose bit of space
between the garden and the flower;
a sudden lurch in the movement of her hand
when the book slips,
a slight difference in the light
a stray cloud,
or a matinee
as the thighs shift
sticking from the heat.
Author notes
In a list
A contest entry
- a little bit of the ordinary by Annalise.
1020 points, ended September 9, 2007, 15 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Portrait Poetry - Female by Polaja.
1400 points, ended December 19, 2008, 13 entries
Silver 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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lol I can't believe I missed this one hmmm maybe I need to go back further in your archives lol
C
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Thank you for entering my contest with this poem
this is certainly a stunning write - I love the imagery that you have used - especially the words "rot" and "spleen" which add to the suffocating beauty
Keep writing
Polly
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Yep. I blushed, too.
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There is a series of Three.
This, Summer Dresses, Lady's Salon.
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I blushed when I read this too Lute.
Sticky thighs
bedroom eyes
what Lisa mean with Pound's got one, Eliot's got one
one what?
See every day at AP betrays my poetic ignorance
Why do I look for the white rabbit in this?
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Pound has one, Eliot has one, and now Lute has one. Appropriate.
The title of the contest couldn't be a better place to submit this portrait. I did a fair amount of research a few years ago on Pound's version -- ennui of the spleen is perfect.
I find this mostly bleak
I don't want to be this portrait but I recognize it as something I know.
Good luck in the contest. Lisa
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Sticking thighs always bring about pleasant thoughts...although the word rot as it was used in the first stanza, does not.
Excellent.
I think I may need a little more coffee to fully digest this poem, so I'll be back. As always it is a complete meal for the senses...
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I can see a woman, in a cotton dress, stuck to her body, moist with the day's heat... and she's got that older surity of the hip sway...
and when she walks down the street.... all the blokes jaws drop a little bit more..
do you remember the scene in Cool Hand Luke when the Governer's daughter is washing the car and the chain gang are all drooling over her? ..... yes
the cavity of her unrest!!! Heidi is so right.. that line is perfect
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cavity of her unrest...
my fav!!!!
a dish best served hot darling...
steaming hot
almost
annoyingly hot lol
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OMG! It's why you are one of my favorites. I have to say, I blushed a little when I read this.
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Hey, you're not trying to impress anybody are you?
I like this line:
the ennui of such spleen
to me, being medical and all, says it all . . .
good peomer
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and the eye followed the line
and the line disappeared in the void
and the eye wondered
very graphic at least in my head
I have seen instantly an expressionist surreal silhouette incorporating more sensuality than any firmly undulated hipline... a sketch, a desire to create and re-create - not to procreate
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