A seemingly humourless
middle-aged couple
pause at the entrance to the café,
then she, busty, inoffensively attired,
heaves herself up the three concrete steps
and he, thin as a famished weed,
follows
A seemingly humourless
middle-aged couple
pause at the entrance to the café,
then she, busty, inoffensively attired,
heaves herself up the three concrete steps
and he, thin as a famished weed,
follows
I think what would be interesting in the book of these Snapshots (which would be a huge success, I'm sure you know) would be the occasional pencil drawing of the particularly engaging ones. Too many would detract from the how playfully and poignantly the reader's imagination leaps at each.
If my children weren't grown, I would read this each night to them for what it would teach them of how language is suppose to work.
I say all this because this one reminded me so much of the early sketchy black and white cartoons with the jazzy or swing soundtrack, but no dialog. They are priceless as are these.
Next time I promise to think of a better word than priceless, rather than repeat myself.
*
"Courage is not the absence of fear but the judgment that something else is more important than fear." -- Ambrose Redmoon
CR: Madame Bovary, by Gustave Flaubert
JF: Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen. My review is here.
A thin, very tall young woman
wearing 2" wedge-heeled shoes,
pale, light-weight summer dress
and ash-grey, floppy-brimmed hat
folds herself into a chair
across the table
from her twinkling, mincing ju-jube
of a male friend
A young couple sit at a table
with the remains of their breakfast
between them. He, half-turned away,
immersed in a novel,
she, dabbing repeatedly at her mouth with a paper napkin,
her expression indecipherable,
the table uniting
and dividing them
Last edited by PrinceMyshkin; 08-01-2008 at 04:59 AM. Reason: added "repeatedly"
That's really sad...
I'd rather be sitting with a stranger than with a lover who's a stranger.
well done. xo
I always feel so sad when I see couples like that.A young couple sit at a table
with the remains of their breakfast
between them. He, half-turned away,
immersed in a novel,
she, dabbing at her mouth with a paper napkin,
her expression indecipherable,
the table uniting
and dividing them
Good one![]()
A tough-looking young woman
wearing white canvas gauntlets
gets down from a road-cleaning machine
and heads west on Fairmount,
her long, loose, blonde ringlets
at odds with her Don’t nobody get in my effing way walk
From my table outside Le Paltoquet
I catch sight of a serene, classically beautiful
Chinese woman’s face, incongruous
atop her taller than average body.
She looks back,
as if from her mountain temple,
at me, a lowly villager, one of those
who are forever beseeching favours.
Last edited by PrinceMyshkin; 08-02-2008 at 07:30 AM.
I'm very glad I found this thread today. Keep up the wonderful work Prince, for these poems have truly enriched my day.
"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being." --Carl Gustav Jung
"To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due." --Neil Gaiman; The Sandman Vol. 4: Season of Mists
"I'm on my way, from misery to happiness today. Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh" --The Proclaimers
A mid-thirtyish guy
pushes a stroller so large
and high-tech that the baby in it
looks like a very young empress
serene and only casually aware
of her vast empire