Shreds of Evidence

[Emily Bronte]

Hi, Anne,

I know you said "last train from Glasgow Central" and "every recipe begins" were 'sketches' but they are ones I thoroughly enjoyed. You've been doing interesting work throughout. Three to go!

Cheers,

Mari.

[DiggerTractor]

hi Bees, sorry it has taken so long to read, I enjoy your writings. There's a sense of noble decay running through some of them that I find intriguing.

Here some stand outs for me:

I traipse the long corridor, the dog
impeding me, foreign aid children clinging
to my dress. Chrysanthemums smell
of fly spray or cat piss. Which smells
the worst? Men are welcome

to wrestle
each other on the front room floor.

Do I detect a bit of cynicsism-if so, I enjoy how you're portraying it.


My Opera Clothes


And round the house I’d wear old stuff,
that shirt of yours. It smelled of you.
I wish I’d kept that shirt, and oh,
I wish you hadn’t died, that too. I really like this line, the false casualness of it, but the pain beneath which is revealed in the next strophe.

That place --the place you’ve gone to dream
-- would it have space to store my things?
Season tickets, the stalls, third row,
you in your tux, me, all glittering.




the dew-wet path
to shady copse, forget
I told you that


knocked up -- moons
wax and wane, fattening
seed pod, fallen


thanks for writing and sharing

[beeswax]

Thank you very much Mari and Digger for that flattery -- it's even nicer than fluffery.

I can’t get too excited about finishing. I started late therefore have four still to write – or retrieve from ‘discarded drafts of long ago’. This has been a wonderful NaPo – impressive and inspiring work from all participants. I’ll fluff too before I shut down.



Twelve String

My lover’s in the sunroom
with his latest conquest, making love
music. I hear him -- Oh baby,
­baby, oo oo. When she sings back
I get it. It’s a voluptuous voice
and he’s that far gone if I were
to dance in wearing nothing
but knickers I bet his hand
wouldn’t leave her cutaway
– she holds him like heroin,
like a dominatrix. His fingers quest
for her sweet spot. Oh baby,
baby, oo oo

[Arlene]

Beeswax, love Opera Clothes, the kitten death, did I already tell you that? The haiku, yes. And the Sidney one, lovely way to honor a great old poet. Thanks for dropping by my thread...best, A.

[Donner]

Hi, Anne,

You struck just the right note with "Twelve String". (Pun intended. ) Nothing like trying to get a man's attention when they're immersed in something they love. You let the title do its work, make the guitar female and focus the descriptions to that end.

Donner

[beeswax]

Arlene and Donner. Thank you very much for visiting and finding something to like. Today's is a revision I'm afraid. I'm working on a small set of haiku to make up the days I owe for being late.

Little Whelp

Tethered, he veers between
focus on her face, and his fantasy
of the pack playing chase
the little one round the yard,
and he’d run fast. But the day

splits at a frayed seam. She struts
on a cow's haunch, man shoes, the laces long
gone. At the hen run the air's in turmoil.
She fingers a scant bag of corn,
stunts trees, crushes the morning glory.
Later, in the kitchen, meat
seethes in a cracked casserole.
This will serve you right
she murmurs -- drum sticks
and no pudding.

[beeswax]

I hope this exonerates me. I started late so am four short. This has four 'Stanzas'.

Doggeral Today

I see that spring is late again this year.
The cherry tree is yet to burst in bloom.
Our wellingtons are dripping by the door.
The sun has hid, it can’t abide the gloom.

Foolish. The oil ran out. In unlit room
they stumbled in the dark. They’d left it late
-- no lamp, no light. No chance. The groom had left
and wed wise ones -- those cued to time and date.

And I am with the foolish set. I hardly
know the year.-- was late beginning NaPo --
I’m four poems short. My debt gets paid with four
astounding word-chunks -- any wise will do.

They sort of rhyme. Clichés abound. The meter’s
off but I’m really short of time. The laundry
waits. I’ve folk to feed and again I’m late.
It's shit. I’m done. (From first to fourth of May).

[M]

This was a very enjoyable thread, and one that I will continue to read into the next several days in order to be able to absorb it all. I really like Twelve String. Some very clever in breaks (I'm a sucker for a good line break)!! The latest is definitely a fitting wrap up -- I too wish spring would freaking get here already! ! I consider you exonerated!!