I've never trusted women
I've never cared much for flowers
I'm a young man working the balcony
I hate using the word 'I' in poetry
Especially, when 'I'm' talking about 'you'
I've never done anything to hurt you?
In fact, I've let you weave your lies
And play the part. I even put you at
The center of the table, but I've
Never trusted women. I've never cared
For you, and you don't trust me, because
I don't respond to the whistle of your
Stamen, or the pollen rubbed by your insects.
You are a flower, colored, fragrant, watered
I am a boy that works the balcony,
And that's just the way it is
I am just a boy, but you...
You belong over there with 'them',
And I won't miss you much
Because, I never really knew you
And after today? I don't want to.
I'm glad you're an annual
Predictably right on time
But I don't care much for flowers
A Tombstone is my lonely charm
I'm a Tennessee William's "One Arm"
I am a boy that works the balcony
Nothing more, and nothing less
And you? You were just a series of flowers
between a cheap trick, a stale cigarette,
and an over-priced martini.
Author notes
Written January 8th, 2004
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kind of like I hate you and love you all at once .... trust Bohb to take note of the "l" thingy per line. quite a nice piece of poetry ... thoughtfully presented
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This was really cool the way you used the flower to describe the whole heartache thing. Hope itwas just a creative write and nothing serious on your part. Good stuff here.
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indeed...brilliant comparing her to a zinnia...not all of us are like that you know...
never trusted women? probably not a bad idea...
i like everything about this so i have nothing critical to add (believe it or not!)
nice work, i am convinced now that i am indeed a wildflower, never picked, seeds blowing randomly...i much prefer my weedy personality to that of those blue ribbon types. -
OUCH someone has hurt you pretty badly eh? This was creative and something to get the brain ticking. I hope you over come your hate for flowers and look at the inner beauty. GOD BLESS AND TAKE CARE LAURA
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well put
i second that motion -
Got it, thanks, good eye.
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I like the metaphor in this..hmm, learning about comparison in my english class, and this reminds me a bit of one of the ways you can go about it..probably my favorite way, not so obvious, but it speaks to you ..if you let it. One possible error I noticed ..'And after today? I don't want too.' ..is too supposed to be to ..or is it too on purpose? ..anyhow, enjoyed the read, always nice when they make you think ..rather than shake your head.
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You want good stuff? read tennesse williams one arm, it'll blow your mind.
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"I hate using the word 'I' in poetry.
Especially, when 'I'm' talking about 'you'."
That is a line hey. Sheesh.
This made me picture a young man on his balcony, watering his flowers, but dreaming about the way they look like her petals, remembering how her poison tasted on his lips, and how his fingers burned when he touched her leaves. He almost closes his hand around the bud and crushes it to pieces, but lets it go, lets it stay in the pot with the other blooms. He stops watering it though.
Very good stuff, you know. -
now that was tight
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Exzinniaellerating
Well, dems the deeds when you mix with the other side of the tracks. Stay where you belong and don't go sniff'in the flowers in Mr. O'Greary's garden...stamens and pistils (don't go telling me you're running around with that gang again bearing weapons against the duly appointed guardians of society..please..please) my rapacious rear. Lordy...what's a mother to do?
Interesting that you chose Zinnias for the metaphor phlower (I really hate it when the 'f's get stuck in phhhh), but after looking it up (thanks for the mite of education there mate) and seeing it's bred for "showy, rayed, variously colored flower heads", why then I understood. Orchids would be not represent the flashy neuvo rich with their BMWs and low-rider Volvo station wagons and tank-stunning SUVs that will never taste the heady odor of fresh forest loam.
A freshly drawn vase of beautiful flowers that do not excite the senses beyond the visual (the flowers, not the poem). Obviously I got something out of it. Liked the reference to Mr. Williams and could explain why the narraator didn't find zinnias to his particular fancy, eh moi?
Thought I was done did you? Just wanted to comment on the narrator's line, "I hate using the word 'I' in poetry" and the clever use thereof in every line of the stanza save but two.
Kudos Dear Sir. Reality is a bit more gray after each foray into your mind. Flowers indeed. -
hmm...some things die easily i guess. like the ardor between two people, the fragrance of a flower, the admiration between to people...
it happens.
Nyx...
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