More Poems About Buildings and Food

[Hydro]

I could've SWORN I'd commented on 'Shopping with Derrida', but it appears I haven't. OR I've commented on it in completely the wrong thread, which wouldn't be the first time, let me tell you. It was really funny and clever.

Anyway, so many of these are enjoyable, sorry it looks like I've not been in here. My pick of the bunch, for the tautness of the lines, the linebreaks, and what you do with images, is probably 'Peat.'

[new leaf]

Still going strong, Sophie! I feel for the impostor in Expectations, and the unsentimental Love At First Sight is worth polishing.
and we talked or didn’t talk, silence
nestling in the creases...

Keep up the good work. (My muse sends greetings to yours.)

[January Poet]

lemonthief, your latest is my fave. Love the gargoyles. I was always told they protected the church. Mmmm, lots to think about there alone. Your last line is absolutely marvelous IMHO. Maybe we can use all the colors of the rainbow. Look forward to more.

[Mimic_Octopus]

Really liking Agnostic. In the afterNaPo editing spell, I'd maybe suggest ending it on

as if the very gargoyles listen.

and maybe rethink the title, but other than that, it's an excellent piece!

[SophieC]

Hydro, New Leaf, January Poet, Kirsty, thanks for stopping by! And espesh for the return visits. Really lovely of you.

Er, yeah, you're right, the next isn't really a poem per se. It's true though, and I'd like to flesh it out a little at some point later on, or slot it somewhere, if I can.

[SophieC]

“I have never wanted to read your poems,”

my grandmother says between mouthfuls of prawn, “because it would
be like trespassing into your bedroom. I worry that I would be faced
with something dark and raw. And what if I found out that I didn’t
really know you at all?”

[Hydro]

Wow, there's a thought. I don't know what's more disturbing, grandma finding out she doesn't know you at all through reading your poetry, or grandma finding out that she can't necessarily know the poet from the poem, and she shouldn't expect to. Either way, I'm sure our loved ones feel like we're doing them a disservice by writing poems which don't reveal themselves at one quick glance. Heh.

[Dunc]

Sophie

Artichoke is a nice idea. Derrida à la villanelle - more than he deserves, but good fun. End of the Airfield works well - I liked it best of these so far. For Agnostic you've chosen a point of view to approach the question, and it lets the poem succeed.

I enjoyed your thread. Regards / Dunc

[Nitika]

You've got a strong thread here, lemonthief. I particularly liked part ii. of peat:

I’d like to hold
your hand, but you insist the path
is only wide enough for one.

and

But they don’t really see.


And your last... I like the touch of the "between mouthfuls of prawn" and definitely identify with the sentiment. I am a little afraid of showing some of my poems to my family

[SophieC]

Thank you ever so much, Hydro, Dunc and Nitika. The encouragement helps, it really does. I'm hardly sure what the next piece is.

Symbols

With jackets zipped to our throats
we picnicked on a checked blanket regardless,
beneath a tree bearing under-ripe fruit.

.......I felt Chekhov could have made something
.......of this; the fruit a symbol for the child
.......conceived twelve days ago, perhaps.

It was cold, but still, I laughed
as you licked cream cheese from my finger
and a wasp appeared behind your head.

.......You were speaking of love, I think
.......when it stung; the allergic reaction, maybe,
.......something to do with the

“Baby, baby” I hushed you
while children played on the swings,
and you were filled with a sense of impending doom.

.......I felt this juxtaposition between
.......the happy children and your suffering
.......must mean something.

[billdozer]

Thanks for the opportunity to read these. I'm beyond analyzing the merits of anything this week. So can I just quote back some favorite lines?

And what if I found out that I didn’t
really know you at all?

Yes, you are fully aware
that you are not delicate enough for this.

You can even stand
on the edge of a canyon, and shout anything
to no one. You can watch thick rainclouds knit.

My eyes are chocolate in a warm pan when you drift into focus.

After a while you say
you do not want it. You would rather
an artichoke’s thistle head – tough leaves
packed tight round the centre –
for I have destroyed the mystery of love.

I was not mad about you.
No, I was genuine.

(the whole of agnostic)

[SophieC]

Thanks! Quoting back favourite lines you most certainly may. Appreciate your time.

Hmm, hello mixedmetaphorville, it's been too long.

Or, in the boyfriend's words:

**shrug*
*i really dont understand what youre going on about lol
*
*but er
*it seems okay

AGH.


Jack

You said you’d done bad things. Once,
stealing quiet across the kitchen floor
you eyed a batch of golden tarts,
blood red jam trickling over
the dimpled edges, and simply
couldn’t resist.

In the breathless cafe
with pink tiles from floor to ceiling,
the only thing I can’t resist
is you. Oh, we'll get along just fine,
for I have sinned.

You are better than other boyfriends.
I can slip you in my anorak pocket,
pin you to my side wherever I go.
Your heart is emblazoned
on your royal sleeve.

And solitaire is a coy dialogue.
I can shuffle you in the pack
and know your familiar,
dog-eared corners.

I can build us a house of cards
and sit very still.
When the gale comes
I will not breathe, but clasp you
too tight, let you crumple
in my clenched fist.

[SophieC]

Triolet? Triolet. Inspired by Edward Whymper's assent of the Matterhorn, though I don't think I've done it justice by any means.

Survivors

A search party found the three dead,
all naked and missing their limbs.
One prayer book survived, it is said.
A search party found the three dead.
Now safe off the slopes we must tread
through our homes and try not to feel grim.
A search party found the three dead,
all naked and missing their limbs.

[BrianIsSmilingAtYou]

Expectations

Really you want to stand on the tablecloth
in your doc martens, leave it sticky with twigs,
compacted earth that reeks of farmland.

These frilly doilies, you want to scribble over
in bright felt-tips. You’ve never truly known
how to balance tiny tea-cups properly,

and really, your fingers bulge so awkwardly
through the stem-thin handle, that you just
want to throw it at the wall, then salvage

a fragment, nestle it in your jeans pocket.
As polite conversation dwindles, you’ll know
at least, it’s yours; the intricate shape,

the scrape against your thigh. You shift
in a chintz chair. Yes, you are fully aware
that you are not delicate enough for this.

A little rough as it stands, but it gets its point across very well, and the details are great. The idea of the fragment of the tea cup as a personal possession/irritant to balance against the impersonal uncontrollable external irritants is a wonderful conceit.

Keep up the good work.

BrianIs AtYou

[pepperedmoth]

"As if the very gargoyles listen." Oh, very nice. Very nice indeed.