Elle quitte la maison
with love?
it is not known
there are marvelous knives in the kitchen
and a pair of ladies’ shoes
neat at the edge of the divan,
there are glasses with the print of kisses
rouged lips leave a mark.
some say she went to the desert
and glowed
like a self-service laundry
at night
others that they had seen her
on bridges
in a long shirt
but as to love,
no
they say
she was always alone.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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Fantastic imagery here. Enchanting story as well. As someone else wrote, it does sort of read like a ghost story, because when a person leaves, they may as well have been a ghost.
Great job, and clappy dudes!
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beautiful poem
some say she went to the desert
and glowed
like a self-service laundry
at night
others that they had seen her
on bridges
in a long shirt
the above lines took my breath away..so much longing and emotion...loved....it...keep it up..thanks for sharing...would you pls stop over and comment on my poetry
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the Girl Who Quit Love
Not everyone is well versed in Latin nor Greek so to use it is like showing off and failing to get your message accross. People are too busy asking "What does that mean?".
A good poem from a male persective on what happens to a lady when she decides she has had enough--she'll do it and if there is no one close to her the questions will never be answered.
Keep up the good work
bw
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Now all of us will be searching for the mysterious *she* you write of. You make her seem as light as air but as real as the earth, to write of someone this way is knowing her so completely no matter what she is now real in these words.
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for some reason this reads like a ghost story.. the title makes me think of someone dead, a shell of a person.. like those old tales one hears of specters wandering hallways - especially the image of bridges..
and the shiny bright thing in the desert somehow like a bright neon sign flickering vacant on an out of the way motel, as well as something more redeeming like a star
each of those building into an impenetrable alone..
all unreachable
yet at the same time it's difficult for me to make the image hollow, as it wants to float wants to be something more than my eyes are reading.. than my thoughts connect it to be and I want to put it in the sky.. like a bird
and I couldn't tell you why..
curious and curiouser ..
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The image here is superb conveyed.
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Ah yes ... they may think they know all about ...
... her. But did they not know that she, like fashion magazines, "should not be read"? What do they really know about her ... This "She" you are talking about?
But you know. And her secrets are safe with you. And she has given you enough to write a beautiful, mysterious poem.
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So artfully sad.
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