A Northwest Pacific town
specific to the Ithacan force
consolidates opposing winds
in a one way silver mirror…
no one pretends to know this much
if they don’t know it already.
Ivy leaguers sink in a Kennedy dip soul,
and don’t dare her to strike a match…
If you're wondering where we are, we'll cut
the ducks from our loose chain mail suit,
squawk at a blown storm light in a hallway,
and gather the galley for a fresh bowl of soup.
She cools her jets with a colloquial pull,
a reserved directive handed down
in a mish-mash alley covered in green paint,
she changes colors with a stroke of a brush…
Author notes
she came out of nowhere, but she was somewhere before...a real pleasure.
A contest entry
- ONE OF MY FAVS YOU SHOULD READ by Swan song.
4600 points, ended May 31, 6 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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...hallways and galleys, fresh soup, and all my ducks in a row? I doubt it. But I see reflections and wings and opinions, and know with alarming alacrity that anything I say here will only prove my ignorance. Brush strokes appeal to me, though. Cover up.
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words taste yummy
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I am swamped Ed with work but I am hoping to release some goodies this summer!
Your poetry is so unique!
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Very well done A joy to read
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There is absolutely no one else here who has a mind like yours or puts it into words the way you do. You are truly somewhere between surreal and hippie.
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Your poem brought about a memory for me. I'll share it with you. Feel free to fall asleep but I got to do it.
When I was around thirteen/fourteen my mother took my out to one of the only places she ever brought me in the summer and that was a small picnic type area where you could sit around and be lazy and whatever...Anyways so my mother had been taking all these pictures of the birds and the water in the distance and just random shit and she gave the camera to me. I picked it up and shot off a couple photos of what I thought was interesting stuff and later had them developed. Now you don't know my mother but she has always been a very perfectionist type of a person and hence why we are not too close...But that's another story. Back to the photos. She takes them out of the package and she glances at hers and says "wonderful lighting, great distance, perfect". She looks at mine and she stares for a bit only then to say "good". I realized they were not good in her mind, but actually quite shitty. You see in my pictures the lighting wasn't professionally done. The distance to things was a little askew and just in general they were not my mothers. She has been this way about many things and your last stanza reminds me of her and the tendency she has towards being rather snooty.
So yeah. I like the fourth stanza the most.
Hit home for me.
;
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I flew over LA once and noticed it was widely apparent ... but not narrowly defined ... by that I mean, up in Oregon and Washington, the trees are almost a dark blue they are so intense and yet, as a group, from the sky, this is not narrowly apparent, but widely defined ... now, I think that LA needs a different color or two other than gray and red, or blue, ya know, but heck, when you head north, on a motorbike, the kind with a smile a cigar bent back in the wind and a devil may care double shot gun grin ... well, I don't like LA or SF or Sacrebleu, but the latter is okay ... now when the earthquake comes, it won't hit anywhere near that ... she'll be awaitin' just east of you and west and north and south but not where you'd think nor where she's been from ...
in over my head, but always am
i hate headlights
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Drive by...
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If I said that this was one of those poems where my eyes fly straight to the author's notes and I say, "Wow, I wish I'd said that!", you would think I was taking the Mickey Bliss! But it's true - the phrase "she came out of nowhere, but she was somewhere before" is just so quotable I feel like plagiarising it!
The poem's good.
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and she writes pretty damned good comments too
Make sure you eat all the brain salad for a mind is a terrible thing to waste
Bravo on this Ed,
galfalfa
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I thought that the mind was a terrible thing to taste...
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LOL, i was hoping you wouldnt remember me saying that
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I remember everything! now where'd i'd put my cocktail and smokes???
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Incredible...I like this I do.
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Yes the proverbial quack attack that flew into a jumbo jet engine groove and lived to squak about it [the jet made a safe landing too, but was temporily out of service...] Come a tilting & somewhat bruised, pyromaniac on sabbatical, in secluded moody nudes and tealish blues... Content to to make NO sense out of NOTHING at all... hehehe!!! God you are good!!! But the pleasure is also mine... Brother!!! Locked and Loaded!!! And... will that be soup, or brain salad with your entre?
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Hey i loved your comment, you are a female Ed, me thinks Mind if i use it too? Or parts of it? Rent it out to me, name your price...ok i'm going
galfalfa
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a beautiful ending. last line is wonderful. seems I forgot how to comment in all this time being gone. still can appreciate a good poem when I see one though.
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