Snapshots

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Waiting for D. this morning
was no different, I suppose,
than waiting for A., B., or C.
had been or than waiting
for E. or F. will be...

Through the window of the café
I could see the mirrored reflection
of the ceiling fun,
turning, turning

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Lovely, and torn through with the loneliness that we both experience from time to time. I love the second stanza. :bawling:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Waiting for D. this morning
was no different, I suppose,
than waiting for A., B., or C.
had been or than waiting
for E. or F. will be...

Through the window of the café
I could see the mirrored reflection
of the ceiling fun,
turning, turning

---

Love this one. The tiresome feeling. Love the image of the second stanza, but you should replace "fun" with "fan" maybe. :p However, your Freudian slip might show that something positive is still on your mind.

Quote:

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A magic treehouse hovers
four feet above the ground,
bright yellow shutters thrown open
to welcome the sun.

To the left, a wavy slide
and three green plastic swings,
dangle, forgotten,
in that breathless pause
that is early morning.

Remembered laughter
echoes through the playscape,
now empty and still.

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Donna, that's a very nice one!

^^^ Thanks, Sweets. :)

* * * * *

It's an acre or two,
maybe a bit more,
is my best guess....
Deep green pines cluster
along the edges of the backyard.

The front lawn is vast and pristine.
The gardens lie, relaxed,
shrubs beautifully trimmed,
carefully following the delicate shape
of the bay window.

And on the gracefully curving,
brilliant white, concrete front drive
(no such thing, after all, as
common cement in this neighbourhood)
sits what looks like a brand-new SUV
in a shade of tan that perfectly matches
the colour of this gracious residence.

There is something about that SUV that so perfectly completes the picture!

Thanks, Jer. I'm unhappy with the last line though. I may change it.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by CdnReader

Thanks, Jer. I'm unhappy with the last line though. I may change it.

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Last lines are sometimes the killers, aren't they, and sometimes they're the whole reason we wrote the preceding lines. Look at the dilemma Virgil created for me by proposing that I excise the last 3 or so lines of "That boy is still with me..."

The summer sun
brings out legions
of bare-armed, bare-legged
young women
with babies asleep
like amulets
across their chests

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

The summer sun
brings out legions
of bare-armed, bare-legged
young women
with babies asleep
like amulets
across their chests

---

this one had me picturing the mothers with those baby-carrier-thingies and braving the heat heart-to-heart with their little one.

Sweet! :)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by kiz_paws

this one had me picturing the mothers with those baby-carrier-thingies and braving the heat heart-to-heart with their little one.

Sweet! :)

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Exactly! I couldn't think of the familiar name for those things but concluded that even if I could, it might make the thing too literal, too weighed-down with detail. My object is always to give as vivid a picture as possible with nothing but the most essential details.

There's something about the seemingly effortless way those women carry their babies!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

My object is always to give as vivid a picture as possible with nothing but the most essential details.

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And you are doing a fine job at that, Jer. :nod:

Quote:

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There's something about the seemingly effortless way those women carry their babies!

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Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the weight of the little one is now evenly distributed between the shoulders (with lots of padding -- ever look at one of those 'thingies'?) AS OPPOSED TO the way that they naturally carried the infant in pregnancy (just their stomach muscles supporting the weight) ... or something like that.

I want to get one for my pet Pepper, but she is so noisy that I'd be doing a silly thing in that action. I am not crazy -- I saw a special one for pets! ;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Exactly! I couldn't think of the familiar name for those things but concluded that even if I could, it might make the thing too literal...

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I am happy you could not think of the literal name. Often this is what germinates the poetry of something, certainly in this case.

A young woman
–a girl, really
–perfectly shaped
in the proportions
of some smaller race,
wearing an unpretentiously elegant
brown flounce of a dress,
gets up from the table
and walks away
on tiny feet,
like the priestess of some cult
she knows nothing about

The last two lines of this one made me laugh out loud. Love it!!

A small, anonymous
Chinese woman
of a certain age
walks by at the usual hour
with her usual dog
and pauses, as usual,
to deposit something in the trash-can
before carrying on
to her - to me, at least
- unknowable destiny

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

A small, anonymous
Chinese woman
of a certain age
walks by at the usual hour
with her usual dog
and pauses, as usual,
to deposit something in the trash-can
before carrying on
to her - to me, at least
- unknowable destiny

---

This is strange, I'm somehow sure I have already read this, as if you had already written it before. I remember the Chinese woman and the fact that she threw something in the trash-can. Hum.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

A young woman
–a girl, really
–perfectly shaped
in the proportions
of some smaller race,
wearing an unpretentiously elegant
brown flounce of a dress,
gets up from the table
and walks away
on tiny feet,
like the priestess of some cult
she knows nothing about

---

I could see her! Wonderful painting, Jer!

As for the last two lines, I kind of viewed it as that she walked with the grace and elegance that were practiced by many, yet came natural to her ...

Lovely snapshot! :nod:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by kiz_paws

As for the last two lines, I kind of viewed it as that she walked with the grace and elegance that were practiced by many, yet came natural to her ...

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Yes indeed. I was sure that if the sidewalk had feelings, it was nonetheless hardly aware of her footsteps.

A lazy, sunny Sunday
at the café.
A heavy-set man
urges his body up the street,
a helmeted woman cycles by
with an infant on the upper bar
of her bike, a smiling young woman
walks her dog,
two elderly women
whose comfortable companionship
is almost palpable

I love your works. All of them are so beautiful and revealing, the scenes you create are incredible. Thank you for sharing :)

The neighbourhood rag and scrap collector,
who lives as if he were homeless,
wheels his bike
around a tightly constricted route,
its handlebars draped
with overflowing shopping bags,
his chin
tucked permanently
so deep into his chest
you can barely see
the grime etched
into his painfully abstracted face

On my way to an outdoor table,
espresso, newspaper, notebook
in hand, I catch sight
of a sweet-looking young man
hunched over a fluorescent-green
plastic Playschool computer,
the kind, he confirms,
developed for kids in impoverished countries.

“Sprechen sie Deutsch?” I ask in response
to his mild accent. “Nein.”
“Where...?” “Sweden,” he answers.

“Welcome,” I say, extending my hand
and offering my name.”Simon,”
he says and grips my hand
so sincerely that if I were a woman
I’d be pregnant now

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

“Welcome,” I say, extending my hand
and offering my name.”Simon,”
he says and grips my hand
so sincerely that if I were a woman
I’d be pregnant now

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You are absolutely amazing. I love the above part..

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

A lazy, sunny Sunday
at the café.
A heavy-set man
urges his body up the street,
a helmeted woman cycles by
with an infant on the upper bar
of her bike, a smiling young woman
walks her dog,
two elderly women
whose comfortable companionship
is almost palpable

---

This little snapshot left me feeling quite cozy indeed. :nod:
It was those last three lines, Jer. Awesome, as always. :thumbs_up

Quote:

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On my way to an outdoor table,
espresso, newspaper, notebook
in hand, I catch sight
of a sweet-looking young man
hunched over a fluorescent-green
plastic Playschool computer,
the kind, he confirms,
developed for kids in impoverished countries.

“Sprechen sie Deutsch?” I ask in response
to his mild accent. “Nein.”
“Where...?” “Sweden,” he answers.

“Welcome,” I say, extending my hand
and offering my name.”Simon,”
he says and grips my hand
so sincerely that if I were a woman
I’d be pregnant now

---

Exquisite. No one says it like you, my friend. ;)

I was interested in checking this poem out because of the huge number of replies it has received. I can see why it has now and I'm glad I got a chance to read this excellent, excellent poem!

A short Oriental man
in flip-flops
shuffles by my house
each morning, a child
beside him or holding his hand.

The look on the man’s face
is so resolutely non-committal
I wonder at the fate
it’s meant to defy.

Waiting for the supermarket to open
I catch sight of two
antithetical characters:
a mousy looking woman
whose clothes seem intended
to make her, as much as possible,
invisible,
and a man with a scowl
and a five-o’clock shadow
that reaches from the neck of his t-shirt
to his dark, bushy eye-brows

Adrian invites himself
to join me at my table
along with his Modern Library Edition
of The Works of Plato
and we have a good
mind-banging discussion
of consciousness, reality
and psilocybin mushrooms
in the cold, bracing
morning air

At the Snowdon Deli,
at the table across the aisle from mine,
a customer receives his smoked meat,
lean, no mustard,
and a plate piled high with fries,
and immediately attacks them both
like a man on a mission

^^^ :eek: No mustard!!!??? For shame....

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Waiting for the supermarket to open
I catch sight of two
antithetical characters:
a mousy looking woman
whose clothes seem intended
to make her, as much as possible,
invisible,
and a man with a scowl
and a five-o’clock shadow
that reaches from the neck of his t-shirt
to his dark, bushy eye-brows

---

Jer, this snapshot is brilliant -- what more can I say? These two characters came to life in how many words? Awesome. :thumbs_up

Quote:

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At the Snowdon Deli,
at the table across the aisle from mine,
a customer receives his smoked meat,
lean, no mustard,
and a plate piled high with fries,
and immediately attacks them both
like a man on a mission

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Ha ha, this made me smile.
And wonder if he wiped his face with the side of his sleeve ...

Great stuff, as always! :)

Here at Loblaw’s
there is no agora
but the faux-tiled floor
of the fast-food area

where descendants of Plato
and Plotinus gather
to chew the fat in rapid, demotic Greek.

The stuff that they and I eat
bears some sort of resemblance
to actual food, about as much,
I guess, as their small talk does
to The Republic

sad and beautiful, i like.

The short Oriental man
who slip-slops daily
past my house, pauses,
while the little girl beside him
–black, black bowl-cut hair
–fiddles with the catch
of her wind-breaker.
He has nothing but patience

“$1.39,”
the billboard reads:
“double cheese-burger.”

I walk by, wondering
how they can make it so cheap
and so nasty

The reciprocal smile
of a passerby
is to me a nano-second love-affair,
the whole of which
is bliss!

write about about nipples, seriously.


keep up the good work :) Hope you're well

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Here at Loblaw’s
there is no agora
but the faux-tiled floor
of the fast-food area

where descendants of Plato
and Plotinus gather
to chew the fat in rapid, demotic Greek.

The stuff that they and I eat
bears some sort of resemblance
to actual food, about as much,
I guess, as their small talk does
to The Republic

---

Wonderful! These are brilliantly observed. I think I might be inspired to write some myself.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by qimissung

Wonderful! These are brilliantly observed. I think I might be inspired to write some myself.

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I'll see you then
at some table next to mine
in this great cafe
called Le Monde!

Jerry, I haven't been in the poem section for some time, but I had a moment today to look. I think this is my favorite thread. You brought a big smile to my face that will last all day.

These moments here were stolen from duty
But were well spent viewing
The walk in front of my friend’s house,
The table across in his café,
And unknown lovers passing …
I am an unrepentant thief.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by motherhubbard

Jerry, I haven't been in the poem section for some time, but I had a moment today to look. I think this is my favorite thread. You brought a big smile to my face that will last all day.

These moments here were stolen from duty
But were well spent viewing
The walk in front of my friend’s house,
The table across in his café,
And unknown lovers passing …
I am an unrepentant thief.

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May I say to you, dear friend
(but how're you going to stop me?),
that love comes to us in many colours!
And yours - given your married state,
let's call it friendship
- is sort of a deep, deep fuschia!