Rembrandt stood stoical
noir trench coat
on the harbour walls
after a day at the races
the waves crash
and dive like
falling lies on a neon
bandit
the horizon
sparkles and dreams
of conversation on a long
desert road setting
true in to the sunset
he thinks back to
the rainy days of
Amsterdam adolescence
where clothes seeped
muse to the skin
the good days
waves acciaccatura
dripping off a page
sparkling in his eyes
apocalypta hillsides
of embarrassing mistakes
its dreams
that stops the rot
of love
and
streetlights illuminating
eras of a life
forgotten keys in
bra straps
Rembrandt stood there
that day
and walked back into
lives he wished he'd
never had
Author notes
I've been reading robert pinsky
A contest entry
- that's not how you call pigeons. by iverbthenoun.
300 points, ended July 21, 2008, 7 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Excellent
Hmm... A rather thoughtful write which is very well expressed. Thanks for sharing this one with us, my friend. -
-seems like you are in love with that first word.
your images are great. really.

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This is incredibly well penned. You have some great word choices throughout. I was getting so use to your shorter pieces, I forgot that you could belt out a good one, up there with the best of them. The second stanza before the end is marvelous. Quite good. No, quite fantastic stuff this is.
;

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Very good poem!


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WORDS! lol... i have learnt new words from here.
your character sounds interesting, loved your images. there are so many good entries... grrrrrr...
good luck and thanks. -
the first verse is great. the second two are a dissapointment compared. the fourth is well worth it's space - it's wonderful. great fifth love "sparkling in his eyes/apocalypta hillsides/of embarrassing mistakes" - very nostaligic. sixth is lovely, keeping with nostalgia. last is great for beginning again with 'rembrandt
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"the good days"
I'd put a line break before that to steady the flow.
Other than that, good.

1 - 7 of 7






