Challenge for Week of 6/27/10

[BooMerengue]

I looked again this morning as the sun came up
yet no dust rose from scruffy boots outside.
His picture lies embedded in my mind and yet
I have no clue of where he might reside.

my beauty and my wit must not be quite enough
my laughter and my joy were all a waste.
the tales of generosity were legion but
I guess that he just never got a taste.

This is the last restless evening that I'll ever have
I'll swear it on that tiny star above
For all I've ever wanted was the perfect man
to teach me how to be the one he'd love.

unedited and rough, I know Ange. But it came straight out when I heard the music.

 

[Angeline]

I looked again this morning as the sun came up
yet no dust rose from scruffy boots outside.
His picture lies embedded in my mind and yet
I have no clue of where he might reside.

my beauty and my wit must not be quite enough
my laughter and my joy were all a waste.
the tales of generosity were legion but
I guess that he just never got a taste.

This is the last restless evening that I'll ever have
I'll swear it on that tiny star above
For all I've ever wanted was the perfect man
to teach me how to be the one he'd love.

unedited and rough, I know Ange. But it came straight out when I heard the music.

You need to get with someone who writes music, my dear B. That's a beautiful lyric.

 

[CharleyH]

Write a how to or ways of poem as exemplified by Manx Wharton's wonderful poem on page 20 of Blue Angel Landing. Ways to love your country, how to break in a pair of jeans, whatever comes to mind. Tell us something!

What a wonderful challenge, and so many good poems that I don't know what to say. While I adore all the poems, I have to admit I like Annie's turn (literally) A LOT! lol I'm afraid my mind is a sieve lately. If I were to write something for this challenge it might be called "How to Burn a Lover, and Still Continue Baking," and it might start out a bit bitter about old-school, womanizing phrases...

From five to 40, I've heard the white-haired churn,
"Why send a man to do a woman's work."

I'm not sure what I'd do with the middle, but I'd likely use a lot of baking terms to debunk the phrase and slowly but surely meld man and woman in an ambiguous or bisexual way before coming out on the other side anew.

In the end, I'd likely retort with a smart ass response to the initial stanza ...

"Why send a woman to do a man's work."

Sorry I can't give more tonight, but it is the thought that counts.

 

[BooMerengue]

You need to get with someone who writes music, my dear B. That's a beautiful lyric.

Haven't you ever heard Don Henley sing Last Restless Evening?? Go listen! your silence on the poem screams at me. I didn't edit. mea culpa. I can't. But I still love you.

 

[Angeline]

Haven't you ever heard Don Henley sing Last Restless Evening?? Go listen! your silence on the poem screams at me. I didn't edit. mea culpa. I can't. But I still love you.

My silence is not intending to scream. I was simultaneously reading posts here on Lit, bbq'ing (a few leftover bratwurst for our lunch), watching some dumb design show on tv, and conversing with eyez who is in the next room. My critique hat isn't even in the house today.

I saw your mention of the song, buit I don't know how specifically it would need to fit that Eagles song. I'm sure you could find a way to stretch around another melody. As a poem it needs editing, sure, but you know damn well I think everything needs editing. I try not to get too ocd about it!

Hey as an aside, last night whilst writing that poem I got up to go to the bathroom and discovered a house centipede the size of a golf cart on the wall. T was fast asleep and anyway I hate to wake someone up to get rid of a bug for me. So I did it (and those fuckers are fast). I was so freaked/repulsed (it was HUGE) that I despaired of finishing the poem, but I managed to find my shaky way back to the poem zone. Oy.

 

[BooMerengue]

My silence is not intending to scream. I was simultaneously reading posts here on Lit, bbq'ing (a few leftover bratwurst for our lunch), watching some dumb design show on tv, and conversing with eyez who is in the next room. My critique hat isn't even in the house today.

I saw your mention of the song, buit I don't know how specifically it would need to fit that Eagles song. I'm sure you could find a way to stretch around another melody. As a poem it needs editing, sure, but you know damn well I think everything needs editing. I try not to get too ocd about it!

Hey as an aside, last night whilst writing that poem I got up to go to the bathroom and discovered a house centipede the size of a golf cart on the wall. T was fast asleep and anyway I hate to wake someone up to get rid of a bug for me. So I did it (and those fuckers are fast). I was so freaked/repulsed (it was HUGE) that I despaired of finishing the poem, but I managed to find my shaky way back to the poem zone. Oy.

As a southerner, one of the most important things you now need in the house is a flyswatter in every room. You get pretty good w/ them after awhile. Tellee to watch out! lol

As far as the poem, it's that one song that inspired it. Until I really listened to it I realized it wasn't gonna happen for me, so I was trying to figure out why and the 'how to' of falling in love. I haven't even finished a poem in 2 yrs or more so my feelings aren't hurt a bit. I just don't know if it's worth working over. Oy yerself!! lol

 

[butters]

mouths like night flowers
blooming jasmine, the sheen
of light that drifts from the sky,
blinks among the leaves
and dusts your eyes
with lunacy.

my favourite part of a delicious write
this is so ... so ... edibly poetic!

 

[greenmountaineer]

my favourite part of a delicious write
this is so ... so ... edibly poetic!

Ditto.

The entire poem was remarkable.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

Wonderful poem, Ange. Like CB I was especially moved by this

the sheen
of light that drifts from the sky,
blinks among the leaves
and dusts your eyes
with lunacy.

but I loved the poem entirely. The last stanza, especially, was moving to me. A friend of mine is dying and it really struck a chord. Made me tear up a little.

Boo, I wish you luck with that perfect man. Until then, maybe consider having friends with different qualities which, when combined, create a sense of fullness and ease in your life. I figure wanting someone to meet all my needs is just too much to ask so I network. Is that weird? Probably is.

Still working on mine. I've been finishing up the last two papers for my Master's and finished today. (Yay!) Now I just have to become fluent in Spanish. Oy. Or rather, Ay yi yi.

 

[PandoraGlitters]

How to Bury Infatuation

I want to think about your hand
guiding me from the small
of my back, brushing

silk against warm skin
sussurous as breeze against grass,
about how your full lip bends
to pleasure.

Instead, I will ride a bike up
hill, I will let your email address slip
down to the bottom like a sinking
shoe, I will avoid thinking about you
as if I were made of swerve.

I want to contemplate
your lit eyes when you spark
conversation, your palm
smoothing my dress
then wrinkling it
as you palm
my breast.

Instead
of dialing you
typing you in
deeper than I
can swim
I write a poem
to whisper all the ways
I cannot tell you
I want you.

 

[butters]

a sensual poem, with wonderful turns of phrase

 

[champagne1982]

Holy, 'dora. I read that and felt the snake of sibilance hiss out and wrap me in a sensuous flush. Yummy.

Boo, you can turn a lyric and imbue so much passion in it, that I can listen, and read, and desire more all day.

Ange, I love your work. Beautiful stuff from both you and ee lately. The move and living so close to the mountains have brought out imagery to die for. This piece is a testament to the good of it.

 

[butters]

here goes - as it comes, so it comes

how to

look into the mirror and
fall
just pour yourself and never mind the unmeasuring
you don't need to be contained but
should you feel happier
imagine you are spilling
filling up your cross-wised twin
staring back at you with eyes that seek full
fill-ment
and then

then

when emptiness is hovering on the brink
dare to stare intently
careful not to blink as the last drops -
atomic-ed essenced you -
flow across the feedback loop of
eye to eye
and find you're standing
now
full on the other side

what do you see?

 

[greenmountaineer]

how to

look into the mirror and
fall
just pour yourself and never mind the unmeasuring
you don't need to be contained but
should you feel happier
imagine you are spilling
filling up your cross-wised twin
staring back at you with eyes that seek full
fill-ment
and then

then

when emptiness is hovering on the brink
dare to stare intently
careful not to blink as the last drops -
atomic-ed essenced you -
flow across the feedback loop of
eye to eye
and find you're standing
now
full on the other side

what do you see?

I see a poem brimming with imagination, a "Johari Window," we experience every day; wonderful poem.

 

[butters]

I see a poem brimming with imagination, a "Johari Window," we experience every day; wonderful poem.

oh! i've never heard that term before, so that's something else new i've learned today. thankyou!

and thankyou for your generous comment.