Disheartened
The cafe is
bustling, green
menus cover
the searching eyes,
of possible
prospects, she now
realizes that
she will remain
at this booth,
in the corner,
she sits, her hair
tasseled like a
child's, clouds fall in-
to her eyes, gloom
has found its path.
In the posture
of un-watered
flowers she sits.
With vibrating
limbs, she waits, for
the person in
white, swirling the
long forgotten
memories in
her now cold cup
of tea, as she
waits for the chime.
This is the new version of my syllabic poem that I re-worked after reading through the suggestions for this week. I can't tell you all how much I appreciate all the feedback I received. There were a couple of you who questioned who she was waiting for and why she was there, but I wanted this poem to be somewhat open for interpretation. The reader can imagine the women in whatever situation comes to mind. Again thanks everyone. If any of you have more suggestions to make this piece better please let me know.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
#13
Pantoums
Ok, I'm going to start out very honest. I had a really hard time with the pantoum this week. It took me a very long time to complete the one I did and frankly it stinks. So I plan to revise and re-work it so that I can give it to the class for more revisions and suggestions. I have a new goal in life... Conquer Pantoums! I thought I would post the stinky one so that you guys could give me suggestions before I re-work it.
Traveling Charleston and Main
From where do these ruthless people come?
Is it not enough to be a lady,
we curtsey gracefully, polite fully so?
We do wear our dresses and our bonnets.
Is it not enough to be a lady?
We cross our legs and pin our hair,
when we wear our dresses and our bonnets.
But the old women scowl and heave as if we did something wrong.
We cross our legs and pin our hair,
in fear of the cold night's draft.
The old women still scowl and heave as if we did something wrong.
Perhaps they are envious of our beauty.
They fear the cold night's draft.
The old hag's health is declining.
They are envious of our beauty,
and do not care for us at all.
The old hag's health is rapidly declining.
We still curtsey gracefully, polite fully so.
But they do not care for us at all.
From where do these ruthless people come?
I was going for an older time. The ladies are prostitutes and the old women obviously do not approve. I do not think this idea is very clear so any suggestions would be much appreciated.
Ok, I'm going to start out very honest. I had a really hard time with the pantoum this week. It took me a very long time to complete the one I did and frankly it stinks. So I plan to revise and re-work it so that I can give it to the class for more revisions and suggestions. I have a new goal in life... Conquer Pantoums! I thought I would post the stinky one so that you guys could give me suggestions before I re-work it.
Traveling Charleston and Main
From where do these ruthless people come?
Is it not enough to be a lady,
we curtsey gracefully, polite fully so?
We do wear our dresses and our bonnets.
Is it not enough to be a lady?
We cross our legs and pin our hair,
when we wear our dresses and our bonnets.
But the old women scowl and heave as if we did something wrong.
We cross our legs and pin our hair,
in fear of the cold night's draft.
The old women still scowl and heave as if we did something wrong.
Perhaps they are envious of our beauty.
They fear the cold night's draft.
The old hag's health is declining.
They are envious of our beauty,
and do not care for us at all.
The old hag's health is rapidly declining.
We still curtsey gracefully, polite fully so.
But they do not care for us at all.
From where do these ruthless people come?
I was going for an older time. The ladies are prostitutes and the old women obviously do not approve. I do not think this idea is very clear so any suggestions would be much appreciated.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
#12
There Are No Bars to Our Embrace
There are no bars to our embrace,
No presence more than in heart.
We live our lives with love and grace,
Together still, though still apart.
No presence more than in the heart,
No touch more salient than a dream.
Together still, though still apart,
We are more lucky than we seem.
No touch more salient than a dream,
Though dreams alone must sometimes be.
We are more lucky than we seem,
If I trust you, and you trust me.
Though dreams alone must sometimes be,
We live our lives with love and grace.
If I trust you, and you trust me,
There are no bars to our embrace.
~Nicholas Gordon
I love this poem. The form is right on and the rhyme isn't over powering. I think it supplies a good message as well. I hope that my pantoum turns out half this good. I hope you guys like it as well. Feel free to share your comments on this piece with me. :)
There are no bars to our embrace,
No presence more than in heart.
We live our lives with love and grace,
Together still, though still apart.
No presence more than in the heart,
No touch more salient than a dream.
Together still, though still apart,
We are more lucky than we seem.
No touch more salient than a dream,
Though dreams alone must sometimes be.
We are more lucky than we seem,
If I trust you, and you trust me.
Though dreams alone must sometimes be,
We live our lives with love and grace.
If I trust you, and you trust me,
There are no bars to our embrace.
~Nicholas Gordon
I love this poem. The form is right on and the rhyme isn't over powering. I think it supplies a good message as well. I hope that my pantoum turns out half this good. I hope you guys like it as well. Feel free to share your comments on this piece with me. :)
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