Trouser Bottoms

Very experimental, in fact it is experimental to the extreme! I apologise to anyone who has read Nadja as this steals a lot from it

  A big thank you goes out to a friend who patiently edited out the kinks, to help create the third incarnation of this poem!

Coffee?
Perhaps on the veranda, dearest.
You have hyacinths in your hair.
I have long fingers through mine.

Do you remember the notes we made
On the backs of Pliny’s letters?
Bloody long, terribly dull-
But meticulous.
Lord we were fools.

“Ummiddia Quadritilla has died,”
You laughed and I cried!
For he had been far to blunt,
As you noted, “he had a knack of being crude.”
Yet I was a little confused-
To see your pretty face so enthused,
So sweet.....

Always with the smell of hyacinth-
Hanging in your red hair.
And the scent of orange; creeping across your neck.

Don’t you remember my face?
I took the train!
You won't know it now.
For I am old.
I am tired;
I wear my trousers with the bottoms rolled.
Smoking from my window, I eat over the sink;
And I read my paper-
With one eye open and the other closed.

I watch them march.
From my seat on the river bed,
They have Shakespeare’s  hands to his sides,
Head in a noose.
For he does not care!
“For them?”
You say it as if you are shocked,
No he never loved them,
Do I? Of course not!
Am I glad?
Never!

Always with the smell of hyacinth
Hanging in your red hair.
And the scent of orange-
Creeping across your neck.

They will shout, “Beauty must be convulsive!”

Do you remember?
“Regulus lost his son!”
You laughed,
It was a, “misfortune,” he
Didn’t deserve.
I cried-
Your face was so absurd,
With stars pockmarked across your skin......

And we will whisper, “Or it will not be at all.”

Each of us should be shot!
I am a liar.
You are the fool.
Andre is such a pessimist.
And dear Pliny so awfully rude.

“I have turned to the remembrance of things past.”

I am old now-
Confused.
My head hangs above your mantel,
While you wear my favourite shoes,
It is utterly baffling.

Perhaps it is time; we take coffee, tea and toast.
And then after, but only then-
We can dance!


“While I thought that I was learning how to live, I have been learning how to die.”

Always with the smell of hyacinth
Hanging in your red hair.  
And the scent of orange-

I will scream, “Beauty must be convulsive,”
And you will whisper, “Or it will not be at all.”
Don’t forget when I go!
I like to wear my trousers with the bottoms rolled.

Author's Note

Constructive Destruction please!

Reviews

[Charles]

I really like this experiment in poetry. i've posted a few experimental poems here of a slightly different sort and in some correspondence have alluded to this sort of experiment. It's all hreta - and this one is very good. I might quibb;e about a few very small issues, so why bother, right - it's all an experiment. I've not read Nadja, but your mention will force me to that table. Good writing.

[Emily B]

yes, yes, I think I want to read more . . . a very nice meandering . . . lovely to meet you

[-Insertnamehere-]

I loved this. It was simply spectacular. I have never seen anything like it, and in that made it one of the best poems I've ever come upon reading. Your imagery was so vivid, and how you put dialogue in there too was genius. This poem was genius. I liked how you repeated the fourth stanza over a couple times through out the poem. My favorite line of all was : I like to wear my trousers with the bottoms rolled.
I don't know why. This poem just reminded me of a grandpa or old man, especially in the stanza when you were talking about how he ate over the sink and all that.
I have to admit it was a little confusing, it seemed like your thoughts were scattered. I can't really complain though, I do it when I write too.
But still. I think this was a great piece of writing.(:

[insanity]

It is through experiment we further ourselves, without forward thinking ideas we would live our lives in stagnation so I applaud your efforts here. Unfortunately I'm not at all familiar with Shakespeare much beyond his most popular works so I cannot analyze that portion.

However, I do have to say I like how you interwove imagery and metaphor, not to mention I thought the conversation between the two characters was quite engaging and at times funny. Writing, especially when you don't have a certain rhyme scheme or theme guiding you, can allow the exploration of much more thought provoking work. It's stuff like this that makes me want to break from my own shell and write things that perhaps may not always be well received but shall make others think, analyze and above all learn. I'm off to read Najda just so I can see exactly where you're coming from here.