In the valley
Leisha
For now, I'm not alone.
Others are shadows. He rises upon
his trajectory, denying god, no savior
for him, no doorway, a skeptic atheist
joke to insult silly fools like me
and my friends, indulging in fantastic
dreams of winging through heaven. Still
he spares me annihilation by saying
you lunatic, take on a new theme
not masturbation. Keep it together
don't falter. We all must die, then who's
to remember, really? No one left
knows my journey, remembers
my crawl from disgrace, I fight her face
in the mirror. If I dare approach the pit
that old bitch takes me. I am more,
don't deserve this poor fate, this meaning
attached like a rag, like a banner
instead my friend knows that I'm real,
seen and obscene, as they say
I can work, move and hide
in my mind, keep it down, though.
Wisdom is light he won't see yet
I'd cry if I won, from him,
just a laugh or a glimpse of his
mission, watch him preach see
him shoot over me, his feet
just the root of his promise. So far away
(I wait) so close to birth, bursting with
dreams known and somber. Out there,
if just alone, he and no
messy consequence when he forgets
my valley is forever viewed with contempt.
We die, death by trampling ourselves,
we allow ugly shots when our women
can't laugh, add weight, stay on
forever, spread out, spin for him,
peaceful and fat. She'll never
stop putting her things in his way.
Hate, for him, is only the river
outside far away now, skimming
meanly and weak, unattended
so lovely and deep
if too real. Like always, he stops
by my mirror long careful hours
of past and future unwind sans
rehearsal, both dull and blind.
He's carelessly perfect, faddish with
knee-jerk hatred freely
attracted not long ago
but now, unlike the valley
or here, in my mirror. Broken
by deeds into safe
restriction I steam. He
wipes me out, laughing, so right.
Leisha
Stuart Leichter
lei...@decisionresearch.org wrote on 8/30/05 8:50 PM:
Hi Leisha,
I hear the 'rhymes'. Is it a sound poem, like for a slam?
At a cafe or bar reading, it would get you laid, or whatever -- it's
definitely a matron magnet. But 'mirror', of course, is a really hard word
to enunciate with a straight face. It's probably why Brit RP prefers
'looking-glass'.
Is it intentionally bereft of concreteness, especially in its imagery? The
effect is perfect: the style mirrors the sense.
Hey, what if the guy, in a Dorian Gray twist, sees a Renoir modelette in the
mirror all the time, and in the mirror, 'you' see his bugeyes, and turn
around to look at him, which is how he can also see the Renoir modelette's
back? Wear a powder-blue tight skirt suit like Madonna in Dress You Up,
which is playing right now!
--
Stuart
jeann...@aol.com
Manet's Before the Mirror, 1876, is in a kitchen magnet here.
A blue corset catches one's eye, speaking of matron magnet.
Renoir's dancing couple framed by a French Blue mat, a
very large copy, of course, is the first picture seen as one
enters my house. A pause there refreshes me, then I look
to my left where a handsome wooden framed mirror repeats
the scene and I know I am at home. I've mirror work left to
do in a Roberts bit, but we have been using matched boards
and mallets to install a ceiling above a former barbecue area
in the patio, ah, the challenges when one lives in a humid desert.
Trimming the edges is a noisy venture. Buddy cringes as I do.
You viewing Madonna? Where?
Your response to Leisha's work reminds me that you are generous.
You always help. Things work well thereafter. We are lucky you read.
Jeanne
Leisha
Hi, Stuart. I agree that you are generous. This is based on a poem by
Donald Revell, who gives a woman awesome power to dominate & become a
landscape. His words are descriptive yet relative to her. However,
would more concrete images take this poem further, increasing its
value?
Maybe the transient feeling of the piece is right for the relative
description of the subject. I did not see this, explicitly, before.
What I'm trying for is, you are right, a good sound. Yes, it could be
good for a slam, but it needs to read well on the page. I can't tell
because I wrote it.
Thanks for the comments. Come back if you have a second thought.
Muchas gracias,
Leisha
P.S. A powder-blue skirt suit, tight or not, would be too conservative
for me.
Stuart Leichter
jeann...@aol.com at jeann...@aol.com wrote on 8/31/05 12:22 AM:
> Stuart,
>
> Manet's Before the Mirror, 1876, is in a kitchen magnet here.
> A blue corset catches one's eye, speaking of matron magnet.
>
> Renoir's dancing couple framed by a French Blue mat, a
> very large copy, of course, is the first picture seen as one
> enters my house. A pause there refreshes me, then I look
> to my left where a handsome wooden framed mirror repeats
> the scene and I know I am at home. I've mirror work left to
> do in a Roberts bit, but we have been using matched boards
> and mallets to install a ceiling above a former barbecue area
> in the patio, ah, the challenges when one lives in a humid desert.
> Trimming the edges is a noisy venture. Buddy cringes as I do.
From power tools? Yeah, imagine what he hears above 20,000 cps!
Ah, the Dance at Bougival.
He painted so many similar dancings.
Someday the right student will stumble
upon a wonder and delight,
n'est-ce pas?
>
> You viewing Madonna? Where?
In my head, recalling the 'live' MTV video from 1983 or 1984. I was
listening to an mp3 of the song. Funny, Dress You Up wasn't on her hits CD.
Bummer. She does great stuff with her voice at the end. It belongs in the
Time Capsule, and Michael's Billie Jean. Damn! A lot of people were born at
the wrong time. Also, those Dance at Bougival poems.
>
> Your response to Leisha's work reminds me that you are generous.
Thanks, but hardly. She deserves better and more because she critiques on
point and goes into detail. She like to practice her crafts; I like to show
off.
>
> You always help. Things work well thereafter. We are lucky you read.
TIger and Michelle can't distract me today, is the truth. Yet your kindness
makes me forget them.
Stuart
>
> Jeanne
>