Snapshots

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Originally Posted by kiz_paws

Jer, you have such a beautiful way of capturing the things you view into these lovely short 'n sweet poems.

I love the way you look at life, and I like how we can see a little of you in each snapshot -- a man with a twinkle in his eye who misses nothing.

Keep 'em coming!

K♥zzo

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Just guessing, mind you, but I think one could do a whole lot worse than to have you as a friend. Yup, a whole lot worse!

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Originally Posted by firefangled

Love the way this works, or the way I think it works with sushi. Never could figure people like that.

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Very little I dislike more than to pass up an appreciation of my astuteness but really I had no idea that the sushi was a relevant part of the observation, other than it happened to be there. And if you're ever in these parts, here's an offer to take you to that particular place

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Originally Posted by ampoule

Though I LOVE this one just as much, it doesn't seem to go along with the other Snapshots. I have no picture of Hazel unless it would be my own cliched version of a woman like that.

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Further to my other response to you, if you were to imagine Hazel as a cliche you might not be far off the mark, because she's constructed herself as a character and don't most characters come from Central Casting and are therefore to some degree or other cliches?

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Very little I dislike more than to pass up an appreciation of my astuteness but really I had no idea that the sushi was a relevant part of the observation, other than it happened to be there. And if you're ever in these parts, here's an offer to take you to that particular place

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When I read it, I thought of the way sushi is often sliced into flat pieces. It worked for me.

I accept your offer I love sushi.

Early Saturday evening
The streets have rarely offered up so few passersby
The air feels like something is being withheld
The buildings are like a stage set
about to be struck
before the show goes on the road

Quote:

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Originally Posted by kiz_paws

Jer, you have such a beautiful way of capturing the things you view into these lovely short 'n sweet poems.

I love the way you look at life, and I like how we can see a little of you in each snapshot -- a man with a twinkle in his eye who misses nothing.

Keep 'em coming!

K♥zzo

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I agree with Kizzo. This thread is a gem. :thumbs_up

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

You know, with some sensitive attention to the line breaks, this might make a poignant poem.

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All of my poems are fu.ck ups, all of my attempts are attempts.
I talk like this often in real life,
I have someone following me around with a pen...
only they're shoving it up their as.s and getting OFF on the
instrument
rather than on the poetry - the message, big boy.


sing it for me.


...ladeeda, I need to be with my woman in America especially when she whimpers for peace.

A young woman with a long,
loose, lazy body
exits the café
wearing a grey, brushed-cotton
panty and halter-top combination
every sashay of her hips proclaiming
I don’t give a damn! I don’t give a damn!
I really, really don’t give a damn!

you should put these pictures - snapshots,
up on myspace.
everyone always says "you look way better on myspace than in real life."
lucky for me I look good all over the place, all over someone

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

A young woman with a long,
loose, lazy body
exits the café
wearing a grey, brushed-cotton
panty and halter-top combination
every sashay of her hips proclaiming
I don’t give a damn! I don’t give a damn!
I really, really don’t give a damn!

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Reminds me of a gal I used to work with. We called her "The Washing Machine" because of the way she walked! :lol:

Ahead of me at the frozen desserts
a man with a disfigured face,
the whole of the right side of it
seemingly caved in.

I struggle not to look

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Ahead of me at the frozen desserts
a man with a disfigured face,
the whole of the right side of it,
seemingly caved in.
I struggle not to look

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Striking! I like the ambiguity of it, the "not to look" and how it contrasts with the fact that the speaker must have looked in order to say this about that man's face. The reference to the frozen desserts perfectly fits too, thanks to the contrast between the ideas behind both words. There is so much in this poem, Shoutie!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Early Saturday evening
The streets have rarely offered up so few passersby
The air feels like something is being withheld
The buildings are like a stage set
about to be struck
before the show goes on the road

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This one was particularly poignant for me: "The buildings are like a stage set/about to be struck." Given that I'm from New York and lived through 9/11 those lines resonate for me. I don't know if you had that on your mind Prince.

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Originally Posted by Virgil

This one was particularly poignant for me: "The buildings are like a stage set/about to be struck." Given that I'm from New York and lived through 9/11 those lines resonate for me. I don't know if you had that on your mind Prince.

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I did not. But your mention of it reminded me how none of us who live elsewhere can imagine, perhaps, what a profound shock it must have been to the US nervous system when the WTC & the Pentagon were attacked and the White House might have been...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Ahead of me at the frozen desserts
a man with a disfigured face,
the whole of the right side of it
seemingly caved in.

I struggle not to look

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Jer asked me to post this in response to his.

He stood at the dessert counter,
his first time in public since it happened.
Months had gone by with out knowing if he would meet with disapproval
as even he feared the mirror's image,
covering each with cloths so he wouldn't see.
AND glass! He had to look the other way, for glimpses were horrific to him.
But they said he had to go out in the world
to meet whatever waited for him.
So, he decided to treat himself to dessert.
But the way others looked away and never met his glances
told him what he thought was true.
He left the dessert and walked home,
closed the door
and stayed.

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Originally Posted by simplyme

Jer asked me to post this in response to his.

He stood at the dessert counter,
his first time in public since it happened.
Months had gone by with out knowing if he would meet with disapproval
as even he feared the mirror's image,
covering each with cloths so he wouldn't see.
AND glass! He had to look the other way, for glimpses were horrific to him.
But they said he had to go out in the world
to meet whatever waited for him.
So, he decided to treat himself to dessert.
But the way others looked away and never met his glances
told him what he thought was true.
He left the dessert and walked home,
closed the door
and stayed.

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Hey Gang? Will you please join me in extending a hearty welcome to this friend of mine! And let me personally welcome you, my friend!

Both poems say so much ... I enjoyed them both immensely.

And yes, a very warm welcome to you, simplyme. :)

I thought of you today, Jer, and how adept you are at capturing so much into a wee little snapshot -- a young girl was sporting a pair of very glamorous high heeled shoes, but I fear that the heel was too high and too skinny. Anyhow, it reminded me of a new-born horse that was getting up for the first time, and the way that they wobble ...

Well anyhow, I thought that you'd have said it better poetically, and yeah, thats what I wanted to share... :)

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Originally Posted by kiz_paws

Both poems say so much ... I enjoyed them both immensely.

And yes, a very warm welcome to you, simplyme. :)

I thought of you today, Jer, and how adept you are at capturing so much into a wee little snapshot -- a young girl was sporting a pair of very glamorous high heeled shoes, but I fear that the heel was too high and too skinny. Anyhow, it reminded me of a new-born horse that was getting up for the first time, and the way that they wobble ...

Well anyhow, I thought that you'd have said it better poetically, and yeah, thats what I wanted to share... :)

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Oh, Kizzeroni! We all share what we can - in your case a most spontaneous, friendly warmth!

Michel, the owner of the café,
strikes me as a perfectly self-contained man.
He tells me of how he “came out,”
first to his gay older sister,
then to his very Catholic Maman.

He tells me of how, at age 15,
he came home once at 4 a.m.
to find his mother sitting up on the couch,
waiting for him. “Maman,”
he said to her: “You need your sleep!
You don’t have to worry about me.
I’m not on drugs,
I’m not an alcoholic,
I was just out having fun with my friends.”
And how she never sat up again after that.

He prefers “uncomplicated people,”
hates “drama-queens.”
Talking, serving behind the counter, smoking,
he is at rest.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Michel, the owner of the café,
strikes me as a perfectly self-contained man.
He tells me of how he “came out,”
first to his gay older sister,
then to his very Catholic Maman.

He tells me of how, at age 15,
he came home once at 4 a.m.
to find his mother sitting up on the couch,
waiting for him. “Maman,”
he said to her: “You need your sleep!
You don’t have to worry about me.
I’m not on drugs,
I’m not an alcoholic,
I was just out having fun with my friends.”
And how she never sat up again after that.

He prefers “uncomplicated people,”
hates “drama-queens.”
Talking, serving behind the counter, smoking,
he is at rest.

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Wonderful portrait (of the word-filled sort). Have you shared this with Michel? And how did he respond?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Michel, the owner of the café,
strikes me as a perfectly self-contained man.
He tells me of how he “came out,”
first to his gay older sister,
then to his very Catholic Maman.

He tells me of how, at age 15,
he came home once at 4 a.m.
to find his mother sitting up on the couch,
waiting for him. “Maman,”
he said to her: “You need your sleep!
You don’t have to worry about me.
I’m not on drugs,
I’m not an alcoholic,
I was just out having fun with my friends.”
And how she never sat up again after that.

He prefers “uncomplicated people,”
hates “drama-queens.”
Talking, serving behind the counter, smoking,
he is at rest.

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Beautiful -- this snapshot has a soothing appeal to it, I liked the simplicity and honesty of Michel. :)

AND 'Kizzeroni'? Ha! I liked that too! :lol: Thanks for your kind words and for creating this lovely thread. :)

From my table alongside one wall of the café
I catch sight of a slender Oriental figure
hurrying by. I race after her
and call out: "Madeleine!"
–a former student of mine,
now an established writer
with a growing reputation.

She turns and, recognizing me,
her eyes, as usual, disappear in the smile she gives me.
We chat animatedly, but only for a few minutes
as she needs to get to the post-office
before it closes and then
to a writer-in-residenceship
at the University in Shanghai.

"You have my phone-number," she reminds me.
Yes, but how to tell her how charmed
I have always been by her...

Quote:

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her eyes, as usual, disappear in the smile she gives me.

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Loved it!

This snapshot made me happy in the knowing that someone who brushed shoulders with you became successful in this fun thing we know as WRITING.

Keep 'em coming, Jer (as if he needs encouragement) ;)

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

From my table alongside one wall of the café
I catch sight of a slender Oriental figure
hurrying by. I race after her
and call out: "Madeleine!"
–a former student of mine,
now an established writer
with a growing reputation.

She turns and, recognizing me,
her eyes, as usual, disappear in the smile she gives me.
We chat animatedly, but only for a few minutes
as she needs to get to the post-office
before it closes and then
to a writer-in-residenceship
at the University in Shanghai.

"You have my phone-number," she reminds me.
Yes, but how to tell her how charmed
I have always been by her...

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Does every woman in the world turn you on Jer? :lol: It seems like you have a desire for all of them. ;)

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Originally Posted by Virgil

Does every woman in the world turn you on Jer? :lol: It seems like you have a desire for all of them. ;)

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:p That is Jer, he's an eternal romantic! That's a joy and a curse all at once.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Virgil

Does every woman in the world turn you on Jer? :lol: It seems like you have a desire for all of them. ;)

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There was this one I remember, corner Hastings & Main in Vancouver, didn't do a damned thing for me!

More for Jer: The good "ending".
"He stayed hidden behind closed doors
for what seemed like forever,
as his life was empty of human contact.
Old friends called,
but he avoided their invitations as he never wanted them to SEE him,
He talked with a new friend online, who only knew him as HE really was
and he was not afraid.
In only weeks, he trusted enough and told his problem.
He healed inside with the true friend's help,
and with new courage found what could be done.
As painful months passed, he healed,
and though not perfect outside, he became more perfect inside.
One day his eyes opened and he noticed it was spring
and the sun shone so brightly
The cold winter had long passed without his seeing that it was gone.
The light shone brightly across the room and he felt like going out
and to his joy, that was the first day he wanted to go out the door.
When he arrived at his destination again,
he entered and smiled
and almost everyone, smiled back!
And at that time, joy replaced the pain."

Jer wonder how to tell her? "Yes, but how to tell her how charmed
I have always been by her..."


I think you just told her---------! This isn't exactly a note passed under a desk!

I don't think that you have to be turned on by all women, just turned on by different things within different people. You can see a facet of someone that arouses desire, or a part of your own self-lust in another...
(in response to Virgil)
Pretty much everyone I know has turned me on at least once...

I like this, dear Sharon, and hope you will begin constructing stories and poems entirely of your own devising!

Driving to the café this morning
I catch sight of a young woman
fairly coiled in love
around the baby in the crook of her right arm.

I stop the car, roll down the window
and when she has caught up to me, call out:
“Vous êtes en amour
avec votre petite ange, n'est-ce-pas?”

She turns toward me
with a smile like a morning mountain lake.
“Oui...”

Above her arm
I see a tiny, puzzled, brown-eyed face
and below it, dangling pink legs.

I ask the child’s name
and blow her a kiss.
“Luna.”

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Driving to the café this morning
I catch sight of a young woman
fairly coiled in love
around the baby in the crook of her right arm.

I stop the car, roll down the window
and when she has caught up to me, call out:
“Vous êtes en amour
avec votre petite ange, n'est-ce-pas?”

She turns toward me
with a smile like a morning mountain lake.
“Oui...”

Above her arm
I see a tiny, puzzled, brown-eyed face
and below it, dangling pink legs.

I ask the child’s name
and blow her a kiss.
“Luna.”

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I loved the sprinkling of French in this snapshot - what a beautiful touch.

Quote:

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with a smile like a morning mountain lake.

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neat comparison, I loved this. :nod:

Three giggling girls,
students at the nearby high-school,
go by laughing in the carefree pleasure
of the moment and of their friendship.

One of them, a young black girl,
so top-heavy I wonder
what if anything
she knows of the rest of herself

A man goes by whose profile
reminds me of de Gaulle,
over a flag-pole spine
his head is tilted back
so that his proud,
almost arrogant nose
sails clear above the heads
of lesser folk

These two last ones are representative of your ability to see details and so many things about people and their self-awareness.

Outside le Paltoquet
two lovers stand
like facing cuckoo birds,
the mechanical sort
that bob and dip
into a bowl of water,
only these two
peck at each other’s lips,
kiss after kiss after kiss

Oh thank you so much for this thread PrinceMyshkin.

I've been reading your snapshots for about 10 days now. And fortunately there are stil somes I still haven't read....

It feels like having a box of really good chocolates. You know they're too good to eat them all at a time and that you should try to make that box last eating one chocolate at a time, very slowly.
But then they're so good you just keep opening the box again and again.

Bravo!

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Originally Posted by lugdunum

Oh thank you so much for this thread PrinceMyshkin.

I've been reading your snapshots for about 10 days now. And fortunately there are stil somes I still haven't read....

It feels like having a box of really good chocolates. You know they're too good to eat them all at a time and that you should try to make that box last eating one chocolate at a time, very slowly.
But then they're so good you just keep opening the box again and again.

Bravo!

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I wonder if you can imagine how much this comment means to me? You know, when I composed the first of these it was for the pure pleasure of being a witness to what I imagined of someone else's life, but after I posted the first few and found that people were reading them, it became sort of a collaborative effort. I still do it for the pleasure it gives me of observing someone as clearly as I can, but I'm always to some extent aware of those who might be reading them...

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Three giggling girls,
students at the nearby high-school,
go by laughing in the carefree pleasure
of the moment and of their friendship.

One of them, a young black girl,
so top-heavy I wonder
what if anything
she knows of the rest of herself

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WOW!... but then, I've come to expect the exclamation point in your marvelous verse.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Outside le Paltoquet
two lovers stand
like facing cuckoo birds,
the mechanical sort
that bob and dip
into a bowl of water,
only these two
peck at each other’s lips,
kiss after kiss after kiss

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Excellent!! Love the image!!

Quote:

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lugdunum said:
It feels like having a box of really good chocolates.

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So true!! :thumbs_up

Quote:

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PrinceMyshkin said:
for the pure pleasure of being a witness

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Very Kerouacian, this thing about being an observer! ;) Couldn't help it. :p

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Michel, the owner of the café,
strikes me as a perfectly self-contained man.

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As others have said, Prince, this snapshot is wonderful in its encapsulation of Michel. In fact, it is those things you select to describe that brings him to life as if he were standing before me. Your remarkable eye for observation is equal to your writing skills--that certainly includes your ability to carve images with control and precision.

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He prefers “uncomplicated people,”
hates “drama-queens.”
Talking, serving behind the counter, smoking,
he is at rest.

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Early Saturday evening
The streets have rarely offered up so few passersby
The air feels like something is being withheld
The buildings are like a stage set
about to be struck
before the show goes on the road

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Another precise construct. My favorite so far! It delights and tickles while an undercurrent reverberates with profundity. Your intellectual honesty is almost painful in its beauty.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

a young woman,
who makes me think of a jolly stuffed cabbage,
chats animatedly
with her somewhat
dry-looking male companion

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How many people in the entire world--I wonder?--would think of a stuffed cabbage as "jolly" and infuse the notion in verse that makes one think: Damn, that's exactly the right word!

But then, that's what makes you so creative. Bravo! Bravo!

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

At Tutto Bene part 2

One arm flopped
around his neck,
a young girl sleeps
against her father’s
chest and shoulder
as if painted there

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Beautifully sublime or sublimely beautiful, this perfect expression creates in me an exquisite rapture each time I "view" it; for this is much more than reading your verse, Prince, it's a privileged glimpse seeing through--not your eyes--but the every being of your soul! "As if painted there" takes me there every time.

You're as poignant as Brel, as subtle as Monet.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

For a moment or two
this St John the Baptist holiday
there is no one and nothing outside the café
but the sun that picks out every detail of the street,
the low and sometimes impatient
susurrus of the passing cars,
the voices of Nathalie
and a couple of customers
through the wide-open windows
and the leaves that may be murmuring
their quiet, matutinal prayers

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Honestly, you are to your verse what A.S. Byatt is to the short story (e.g., The Matisse Stories et al.).

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Originally Posted by ctalerico

Beautifully sublime or sublimely beautiful, this perfect expression creates in me an exquisite rapture each time I "view" it; for this is much more than reading your verse, Prince, it's a privileged glimpse seeing through--not your eyes--but the every being of your soul! "As if painted there" takes me there every time.

You're as poignant as Brel, as subtle as Monet.

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You've picked out one of my favourites too, in that it recalls to me that beautiful image of the unity of the two of them. And the father's composure, the depth and security of the child's sleep, were in such beautiful contrast to the very busy, noisy atmosphere I tried to capture in the snapshot just before that one.