Of hope or pain,
Lisa was, or is-
"flame on", Johnny said,
dipping into the poems of the damned,
again;
before going off to save the world,
again.
Languidly
her hand hangs
over the arm of the red velvet chair.
A gold chain hangs loosely
to the middle of her palm,
each fingernail is a miniature Matisse.
I sit in the middle of the sunken floor
playing with my colored words;
the basket is almost empty now,
deflowered
of its interest. I am coy
and glance at her,
her eyes reflecting someone else,
the white room
is golden in the sunlight.
I page around like Socrates,
owl-wise and puffy
to no avail;
Adonis need only examine his nail
and shift his weight
for her legs to cross.
She turns and looks at me
and says,
"Are you coherent"?
and I say,
"no".
Abashed,
looking at the haphazard words
lying broken on the tiled floor.
She rubs the first finger
and thumb together,
tucks her hand
underneath her chin
and looks away,
crossing her legs.
Without looking at me,
she says,
"are you happy in these surroundings",
and I look at the floor
frantic
that the words should form
some sort of order,
march sprightly
from period to period
as she crosses her legs
again.
Author notes
Written January 23rd, 2004
In a list
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1 - 40 of 40
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oh you were right...
it is Lisa. -
You really do a brillant job
with metaphors and imagery in your stanza's. I wasn't quite sure of the ending, are you still happy with it?
and by the way, ignore the message below, that poet is
always grumpy..and leaves dishonorable remarks on a lot
of poetry that is absolutely wonderful to enjoy!
I felt like the last line still needed something to
pull it together into one last thought.
otherwise I really was amazed by your imagery and metaphors in this poem, good good job!!
ears2hearyou
Kathleen : )) good job dear poet, good job!!
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without reading it truly, je n'aime pas cette poesie ca fait retarde et out of the date. pas mon genre tres laid.
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Sorry....
....I'm a freeversehater and wouldn't have clicked had I known.
Have a couple of claps as part-compensation ; I'm really not qualified to comment.
R.
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Thank you for entering my contest, your talent and hard work are very much appreciated. I loved this poem, the abstract quility to it reminds me a lot of my own work, though i do try not to write abstract poems as much. Any way, i love it and hope you do well in this contest. Great job.
Tiphanie -
Hi ya Lute,
I was wondering about the punctuation being outside the quotes... is that a personal preference? I think most grammarians would tuck them inside, unless you're speaking with regard to a pseudonym or other 'irregularity'.
I say, "Your grammar is broken."
Lute replies, "Uh, OK!"
Other than that it was up to your usual abstract, brilliant best.
Edited on Jul 09, 3:45 p.m. because 'd to s'. -
well i clicked again not realising i had read this before beautiful job well written, dont think i usually recall when i have read something before but i did with this one which makes me think it must have stood out in my mind! wonderful!
xx cheryl
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usually . . . its very hard for me to appreciate anything written in free verse. I have OCD and I'm realli specific about perfect rhyme and rythym. This, however . . . was well worth reading and inspired me rather than angered me. Congradulations on a job well done.
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awesome free verse. great imagery . . . very inspiring
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I wonder if the the painter is satisfied with his final product, but just as we poets change our words time and time again, maybe he too, was unable to reach a final conclusion, a final picture that suited him. Creative, and thought provoking, at the least.
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Excellent!
An excellent piece of poetry..
The way you break it down
The imagery, the form, the flow
Thanks for sharing sweet soul...
Pen on!
-Timothy The Poetic Weaver~~~~~~~~~~
Edited on Oct 18, 12:40 because ''. -
this is a wonderful write very visual and beautiful with it, i could almost see the colours unfloding some of the lines are genious:
but her eyes reflecting someone else,
the white room
is golden in the sunlight
well done and keep writing xx Cheryl -
I commented on this before, but I'm revisiting...
lot of leg crossing here. the better to observe historical and myhological references. I love the idea of dipping into the poems of the damned, again. and I paging around like Socrates, owl-wise and puffy. good stuff!
are you happy in these surroundings? when women ask that of men, I think they've entirely missed the point. don't you?
I like this, lute. it's movie-esque.
~travis
Edited on Oct 18, 12:31 because ''. -
this was excellent.
i didnt understand everything but the imagery i got was beautiful,and i love the ryhthm and all the lines just sound cool.
great job -
ooooh. mr. tostig wants to talk Poetry.
I'm kinda into this poem this week:
L'Invitation al Voyage:
Furniture gleaming with the sheen of years would grace our bedroom; the rarest flowers, mingling their odours with vague whiffs of amber, the painted ceilings, the fathomless mirrors, the splendour of the East ... all of that would speak, in secret, to our souls, in its gentle language. There, everything is order and beauty, luxury, calm and pleasure.
yup. liked it then like it now. she is perhaps - order and beauty, luxury, calm and pleasure - he trying to capture her ..in those scattered words. madness all of it.
as it is and always will be ..
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interesting! i really liked it and didn't want it to end! keep up the good work
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this poem was very interesting!! i was able to get right into it and it kept me interested! GREAT JOB!! keep up the good work!
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Very good indeed.
This was interesting indeed to read and I think that you came up with a completely unique spin on this sort of write. I just finished judging a contest but I found a lot to like about this write here and it is indeed very well done so you keep up the good work. Ran out of applause judging but I do like it a lot. -
This is true poetry.
This is what I expect from the poetry I read. Some people write because they're bored. Others write because they believe they fit the image of the poet, whatever that is. And the saddest ones of all write because they think their own thoughts are twisted, or whatever, and that the people that read their poems will praise them for their absurd mentality. Basically, I'm saying most people that write are just trying to fit an image that they've predetermined, and are phony. Whoever you are, based on this one poem, you write because you HAVE to. And I'm sure you'll figure out what I mean by that. Here's my email- jeeezis@yahoo.com Let's share and comment on our poetry. -
Very visual. (aren't I original??). I like it a lot. It almost seems familiar, while at the same time feeling refreshing and vividly new.
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This is a painting poem. so visual you could play the movie in your head. so beautiful you could keep playing it.
Languidly
her hand hangs
over the arm of the red velvet chair.
A gold chain hangs loosely
to the middle of her palm,
each fingernail is a miniature Matisse.
great write! -
Alright, comic book allusions are infinite coolness. I always loved that phrase, "Flame on!" As a poem, I believe this works. Lots of psychology is hidden in here. Also, I love the nuance and subtlety. And you also do well to tap into my neurosis -- as relationships have traditionally been a source of paranoia for me. Anyways, as I said before, I liked your poem and I wish you all the best. Hopefully, you'll have another good poem up your sleeve.
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I like the title and the lines, " I sit in the middle of the sunken floor / playing with my colored words;." You did a fantastic job on writing this.
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Quite interesting. I was surprised to see "Adonis " in this poem though.
"Adonis was mourned at the Phoenician sanctuary at Byblo, and it was said that his blood flowed in the fiver each Easter. The women there rejoiced at this sign of his resurretion. Today, near the valley of Jebeil, which is near Beirut, the red earth in springtime washes down the hillsides and voers them with blood-red dirt which tinges the anemones that grow there."
Hm, Adonis is tied into Anemone which is greeck mythology and Christianity. haha, so I thought it was interesting to see the word Adonis in your poem. Perhaps you have a different meaning? Mind telling me your reason?
Anyway, I liked your poem and your vocab use..it seemed more like a story-which was fun. Very descriptive and fun.
-nicci -
ok i was here before and got rudely interputed. this reads to me like a modern indie movie. stark but filled with symbolism and detail that only one close up and paying attention would notice enough to film it or write about it. i so see her hand, the bracelet where is slid. i find this erotic despite the indiferrence. perhaps because of the indifference. i don't know.
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I also thought that "each fingernail is a miniature Matisse" was my favourite line. Then I read Woodworm's comments, and now I'm not so sure it should be. This is a very good poem. I'd have to read it over and over. I'm not so sensitive about relationships and the nuances that go with them.
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Amazing. I could say how wondrous this was, but coming from me, that wouldn't mean much.
I will say this. It made me think, and it made me feel and see something through your eyes.
Kick ass write.
Jade -
excellent
Bookmarked for many future readings. Loved this and I believe that every time I read it I will find new joy.
Flame on Johnny
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Visually works like paintings do, with so much significance in the small details, as Rollingstone mentioned the hands are so expresive and relevant in this exchange of feelings, plus all that leg crossing that can make even flowers feel unwanted.
I do like this multilayerness of meaninngs, I picked on the different uses of colour throughout to paint sensations ('red velvet chair', 'white room', 'golden sunlight'...very sensitive and flows beautifully as a script.
Most impressive mr.Lute!
GIGAN -
Yeah, girl poem. "Each fingernail a miniature Matisse": heh, so that's your best chat-up line? Hehe. Mine filed for divorce after I'd compared her navel fluff to the recent works of Tracy Emin. These comparisons can be dangerous, and costly in the courts.
Yes, and her eyes always reflect someone else, don't they just, and don't you just Hate being Owl-wise (not that I'd know) and yes, it's shit when they cross their legs and turn their backs and ask you a question when they know full well what the answer's gonna be, but they're lovely, aren't they?
What was that about the Angel Falls?
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wow, and thats all i have to say. this was a masterpiece. the words have painted such a stunning picture, and i cant help but see the emotions jump out at me. it was marvolous.. stunning even. amazingly done.
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what a perfect vignette of a moment in a relationship. you illustrate it skillfully with images of body language, gestures that always speak truer and with more clarity than words. we so often hide behind words.
reading this made me uncomfortable. I think it's all that crossing of legs, lack of eye contact. brilliant observations put to a poem, lute. your crayola serves you well. -
I like this piece, it moves smoothly from one instance to the next and continues on and doesn't really end.
A great piece that you have written here.
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I really need a crayola of words right now..
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Veru good!
This is very good. Very interesting. Love and hugs, Belinda -
I really enjoed this poem out of the three that I have read this morning it is full of infomation and interest in everyline, my fave line every nail like matisse that was lovely.
Lakota x -
I would think you know I can identify with this, particularly at the moment, with my own shadows creeping around underdoors, showing me words, and taking mine away. (Even though it is only a memory that is a hundred lifetimes old)...
"I sit in the middle of the sunken floor
playing with my colored words;" I loved this bit and agree with jenneddin, you are the one Poet with a santa's sack of verbs and adjectives, I don't see that you will be running out in the near future. Unless the tie your hands together...or take all your pens and keyboards away. Even then, nope...Lute will still have words.
Her crossing and re-crossing her legs, paints her in my mind as shifting...uncomfortable in the situation...but the detail in her hands - first the languid hanging, and then the thumb and first finger...I am convinced there are subtleties I am not picking up on them completely, but I'm not too concerned, because no doubt I'll be back to look at this one again. It's mood feels so very familiar.
~Ody~
Edited on Jan 23, 4:47 p.m. because ''. -
Brilliant and exacting picture formed by the 3rd stanza, exquisite in its detail, sumptious as the red velvet, and
oh you, with your coloured words, what a stunning image, and all through, her legs cross and uncross, shifting in tedium and yet you so want to engage her interest, an intriguing and precisely performed scene, her reflective eyes, your spurned worthiness. A rich and wry commentary.Well written, but , you knew that anyway... -
Small sounds magnified by quietness. Sad and lovely, with Adonis lines which made me smile.
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there is nothing worse than a love unreturned... all of your poor colored words sitting lonely.... I just cannot believe this is so..... why, your 'lute'. I also believe that your basket is far from empty, unless you wish it to be so....
jenn
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