Why do you sit there and shred your sweet wrappers
like they are merely love letters
to be dumped by the road?
Your hair, in concrete coils,
clasps the air–-
rolling breakers, frozen before they catch you--
while your lips stay squeezed around thoughts
that waited and grew stagnant.
Do you think no one sees you,
watches your concern, your fidgets?
Were you ever more than a shrivelled muse
to a fool on the run?
The light flits across your skin,
draped inelegantly like ripples left
in sand abandoned by the tides.
Did you think I would take pity
when I sliced away old age,
leave a little covered
with quiet dignity and lipstick?
And you, YOU, clutching your rusted newspaper,
the traveller’s hand-me-down,
sleep-around words sprawling back-to-front
on your fingertips:
are you afraid? Aware?
Lounging with your wide-armed confidence
that shrinks back into its shell,
calm and folding time into each page;
the vagrant blue in your eyes
deep and cold and lost:
have you always tried
to harpoon dreams,
or was there some brief, bitter moment
when you let beauty pass you by,
palpable and impossible?
I see you, I see you both,
all of you, the you
that you muffled and strangled and forgot,
and I breathe you,
feel you,
forgive you.
Because perhaps I can only outrun a pigeon when it’s landed,
and perhaps cigarettes and chocolate milk were all that was on offer,
and perhaps the world is just as wonderful as it seems,
and perhaps the meaning of life isn’t love.
Author notes
I'll work out how I feel about this later...
There are such interesting people on the train, you know.
I wish I wasn't cheap so I could use italics. Alas, it cannot be so.
---
To Dienush:
To be honest, it didn't take the longest to write... it was one of those poems that just happened and the words just sounded like they were meant to be in that order. But it means a lot to me because it reminds me of a particularly pleasant train journey, and also that the obvious answer often isn't the right one.
Happy judging =)
In a list
A contest entry
- It's Been a Year Since the Bug's Been Here!! (A PARTY only by Invitation) by ten thousand cicadas.
1800 points, ended April 15, 2008, 15 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - truth and dare (ie poetry is so much more than just poetic devices) by Dienush.
600 points, ended May 18, 2008, 30 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Advice is always appreciated!
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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One of the best poems I've read on here. Wow!
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First of all the title of the poem definitely had me intrigued, and was the reason I clicked on the poem.
I really like the feel and delivery of this poem. It feels like it was written in one shot, capturing the thoughts of a couple of minutes with every little detail. It could just be the great flow this poem has
Loved the ending:
"Because perhaps I can only outrun a pigeon when it’s landed,
and perhaps cigarettes and chocolate milk were all that was on offer,
and perhaps the world is just as wonderful as it seems,
and perhaps the meaning of life isn’t love."
Very thought provoking.
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Did you think I would take pity
when I sliced away old age,
leave a little covered
with quiet dignity and lipstick?
my favorite part i liked this poem alot -
Do you think no one sees you,
watches your concern, your fidgets?
Were you ever more than a shrivelled muse
to a fool on the run?
The light flits across your skin,
draped inelegantly like ripples left
in sand abandoned by the tides
so much going on
it's a real bender
mystical, yet, knowing
i like it
And you, YOU, clutching your rusted newspaper,
the traveller’s hand-me-down,
sleep-around words sprawling back-to-front
on you
i saw someone with an old newspaper, a large manila envelope, and a cup of coffee
it reminds me of strangers on a train, etc
i think she was an alcoholic, problem child, that sort of thing
i wanted to help her
but
she's probably got her own problems
like, this one
Do you think no one sees you,
watches your concern, your fidgets?
Were you ever more than a shrivelled muse
to a fool on the run?
fidgeting with this big, brown envelope, nervous as a cat on a tin roof
she was a pity to behold
so
i walked away
she stood there
alone
-
Do you think no one sees you,
watches your concern, your fidgets?
Were you ever more than a shrivelled muse
to a fool on the run?
The light flits across your skin,
draped inelegantly like ripples left
in sand abandoned by the tides
so much going on
it's a real bender
mystical, yet, knowing
i like it
And you, YOU, clutching your rusted newspaper,
the traveller’s hand-me-down,
sleep-around words sprawling back-to-front
on you
i saw someone with an old newspaper, a large manila envelope, and a cup of coffee
it reminds me of strangers on a train, etc
i think she was an alcoholic, problem child, that sort of thing
i wanted to help her
but
she's probably got her own problems
like, this one
Do you think no one sees you,
watches your concern, your fidgets?
Were you ever more than a shrivelled muse
to a fool on the run?
fidgeting with this big, brown envelope, nervous as a cat on a tin roof
she was a pity to behold
so
i walked away
she stood there
alone
-
Wow, this is so beautiful, I love it
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Wow. I love the perspective of this piece! Your description of this traveller, from an outsiders point of view, grants such emotion to traits and nuances that could just as easily be dismissed. But you have given each movement, each grimace a voice. So very interesting an approach. I love the way you address the traveller like some kind of estranged parent or something. The emotion was that raw and unusual.
The interplay of the newspaper throughout was so well done. And the ending is so intriguing. I'm still thinking through some of those statements.
Really enjoyed this!!!
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Thank you so much for an incredibly kind comment, an awesome online party and a lovely green trophy!
And apologies about the exceedingly late reply... I can't think of any good excuses, I'm afraid, but I can make one up if you'd like.
-
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