Arabella is an artist, of sorts. Does
it well with bone strokes; slight of
mouth; small nod. Practiced now: this
story of white, white, white,
so much fucking white! --
painting out the deepest blue
that ripens behind her eyes; and nobody
knows, nobody needs to. The canvas,
the easel, are tangible enough. Solid
though unreachable. Still,
Arabella exploits highlights in
suitable places: in gestures, through her
teeth, and always where the black
bleeds. Beyond the frame
reality is waning; detaches; leaves
nothing but the perfectly mastered
half-moon of her face.
Author notes
And they'll never know.
In a list
A contest entry
- dragging a dead deer up a hill by the atlantic.
1000 points, ended September 16, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Read between the lines.
Comments
1 - 20 of 20
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This is artfully as enjoyable a poem as I believe I have read in some time now!!!
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When read aloud,
this poem touches on professional, quite professional modern verse!
It is a talent that you are developing and I enjoy it.
Bravo and write on!
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"reality is waning; detaches; leaves
nothing but the perfectly mastered
half-moon of her face."
excellent.
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Did you write this with a brush?
When I entered this contest, I had no idea reading it would be such a clinic for me. This makes me want to rip off my mask and HOWL!
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Love this..
Kind of makes me think of where I go when I start writing. Time stops existing; it is more than mere distraction.
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leaves
nothing but the perfectly mastered
half-moon of her face.
Simply gorgeous work. This was a masterful display of art and color and that ending, so powerful and wrapped like a delightful present. You could teach picasso to sing.
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and you know how to write the blues, splash them against the white... intense piece of writing, Allyce. Simply great poetry.
~ Nicolette
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You know what I think of your work, hon. This is no exception. It's about time you posted this...
I had a good giggle at James comment, though the bastard would be just as good a poet blind, lol.
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Oh this is so god damned raw that it makes my eyes bleed . . . A portrait of much intensity, the images feel like they want to drip off the page, slowly, lingering in the mind of the reader . . . Oh so well done, Allyce . . .
Marc
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That ending stanza kicks ass! Period.
If this doesn't sweep this contest, I will eat
my eyeballs and shit them out later. How you see Arabella and connect with her imagery wise, is breath taking. I saw the poem as a learning experience of how to become and how to change and how to react...It feels vibrant and, yes, masterfully told.
;
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don't make promises you can't keep
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That's why I said I would maybe,
But probably wouldn't...
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That has to be the greatest comment of all time! Just don't you enter, and I'll be good to go! lol
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Well that won't be a problem...As I don't enter contests, for the most part.
Not because I hate them or anything, I just have no real reason to enter, on most occasions. I would rather host them, then be in them. My comment was honest so, glad you enjoyed it.
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You should enter, rather than deprive us of talent In fact, now I am recovering from illness, I need to stalk more of your poetry!
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Well there isn't much to stalk...LOL.
I only post when it feels, time. I really should post more of what I actually write off the site, but I have never been one for sharing all my work...
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Probably wise, I might steal it!
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You can and probably would make
it work better..
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wonderful imagery- you've really gotten good at this stuff..
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