I had a little fun with a Halloween word (spectre) as well as a word lifted off my daughter's spelling list (hungry). Here is the result.
Just look
Just look at how
a month slid by bare-boned,
slim as a solitary chickadee
beaking rain-swelled remnants
from the miserly cracks
in the feeder.
This is no time
for golden shoes, for hair
piled high then tumbling down
in gleaming rivulets, for the
laughter and the dance.
These are hungry hours,
their edges worried, frayed
by the anxious, wringing grip
of the grim, anorexic spectre
of tomorrow.
Rachel Westfall
October 27, 2010
A Little Scribble and an Honorable Mention
13 hours ago
8 comments:
"...anorexic spectre of tomorrow." Lots of beautiful phrases here.
You have me laughing that you say you had fun with these phrases. I found your poem sobering. Made me think about my self absorbed perceptions too often.
xo
erin
Lakeviewer, thank you!
Erin, haha! After writing it, I had to remind myself where I'd started-- playing with those words-- because I put myself into one of those weird, gloomy headspaces. It must be the suppressed beatnik in me. :-)
I “just look” and am taken in by images not expected, set in motion from your words here. They start off light, sort of airy, and soon show a very dark side.
Liked this a lot. Thank you
:D You are so, so good at this poetry thing.
The Scolding
Your suppressed beatnik
spoke up today, told us all
off, told us all where
to go while squinting
in all that pot smoke, that dope
smoke around the place
you made for loving
but I guess we just will not
behave to your full
time satisfaction.
Christopher, how did you know I'm such a scolder?
You are? How does it work for you? Jes' askin'.
I dunno... ask all my exes... hehe
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