you and I have walked this way
a time or two before.
perhaps you were the brickmason
scribbling on that purchased pot
with hand-carved pen and found ink.
maybe I was the quiet laundress
easily overcome with the grandeur
of your pseudo glyphs.
maybe there is something
in the swing of my hips that reminds you
of times when your hands traced my form.
or could it be I watched
from some silent stone tower
as you shed layers of clothing
beside the still sea
and dived in swimming swiftly
through blue waters.
maybe there is something
in the curve of my breast that haunts you
on quiet nights when the moon is full.
The rhythm has musicality and lyrical intensity. One can truly imagine these two people walking together, how their professions inform their lives. The imagery is exquisite:
perhaps you were the brickmason
scribbling on that purchased pot
with hand-carved pen and found ink.
maybe I was the quiet laundress
easily overcome with the grandeur
as W.K.Kortas writes culminatively, this poem reaches near perfection.
you and I have walked this way
a time or two before.
This is a commanding beginning
perhaps you were the brickmason
scribbling on that purchased pot
with hand-carved pen and found ink.
maybe I was the quiet laundress
easily overcome with the grandeur
of your pseudo glyphs.
The phrasing is what's key, like something you might found at a garage sale, you didn't know you needed it until it presented itself in that particular light.
or could it be I watched
from some silent stone tower
as you shed layers of clothing
beside the still sea
and dived in swimming swiftly
through blue waters.
This passage ugh! It is most definitely the moment in the poem.
I think it's quite brilliant and matched the 'last of the Mohicans' score I'm listening to right now well and then some.
After the strong beginning and how it builds to this passage, I'm not sure there's much to be gained from continuing. The sway of hips/maybe there's aspects seem the weakest parts, firstly because of the familiarity, and because it seems non-committal rather the wistful feel I think you were aiming for. Still the last few lines seem like the hunting ground.
Definitely a favourite. I like the whole looking with wonder upon something beautiful aspect of this, like some mossy grove all pristine and ferny
Or a beach without footprints where all the shells lay in rows and left alone rather than pocketed so anyone can imagine what must lay beneath the water not so far away. Un spoilt things, untouched unspoilt things simply made to look at and dream about.
Much better in the light of day Em, not a blemish.
that is truly a lovely piece of writing. timeless. the rhythm of it was gentle - the poem was earthy and emotionally true. i am always glad when i take the time to read one of your poems.
i see no way to improve the cadence, lyricism and sentiment of this wonderful poem
I do not know if the inspiration for this had anything to do with your adventures, but if I'm by any chance on to something, then I think history becomes you. *smile* I'm saving this. This was beautiful with something eternal over it, that for once made eternity seem like not such a bad idea. (I'll be back to rephrase that last part at a later time)
OH! Sweet Emily, this is one of those pieces that the lost boys can sit and read over and over. It has all the right words, amazingly perfect and oh so sensual. I have read it four times and will be coming back to read it again on those quiet nights, when the moon is full. Into my favorites for this, over the top performance. Just beautiful.
your descriptions are vivid and beautifully poetic
it reads like a trickling steam of golden honey
fluid and rich yet solid in the thoughts you portray
thanks
xxx
"maybe there is something
in the swing of my hips that reminds you
of times when your hands traced my form."
I agree, it has a potential for an actual song, a real musical flow to it. This was my favorite line in the poem, the imagery was subtle yet deep. I enjoyed the subject of the poem but it feels a little unfinished. I really think you can take this poem farther, I would like it to have a conclusive ending. Great read!
to the Lost Boys
I am no Wendy;
but my voice brings you back to me.
And you sit around my feet,
anxious for a story
or a kiss.
Listening to my words
spinning adventures,
like so much g.. more..