Jan 222012
Caught in the smoke
ring eddy of blues
and lust
Neon shines
through dust
in the lonely hours
Proof, high, twice
too many whiskey sours
nightmares, dreams
Secrets, illusions
Life’s as it seems
when filled-crack edifice falls
Wasted stories
within these walls
milky dew lost to the night
So much left
despite the blight
and drought of true connection
28 Responses to “Change Her Ways”
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WOW…. this is awesome …. I love the picture you paint with your words … can see her sitting in a seedy bar, drinking away sorrows… great write :)
I and get to be the first to comment! This is a most evocative piece of writing, and I love the subtle use of rhyme – just enough to add musicality to the piece and not nearly enough to overwhelm the senses. Stellar writing, Kim.
Fantastic writing, kiddo. I see it through blue smoke and its mood of sad reverie.
No blight about this though… :)
poignant lines.this new form of broken lines and staccato rhythms is working really well.
This poem definitely addresses the complexities of life sometimes, as well as what is and what isn’t.
ooh, i like this form, and just the murkiness of this…well put. x
Thanks, Dana. The form simply emerged as I wrote, and I followed where it led.
Looks like it wasn’t a good night…drought of true connection…I like the ending verse ~
;-) Guess not for her… or maybe the beginning of a string of good ones.
An enticing first stanza and an engaging poem.
Here is my entry:
http://jackedwardspoetry.blogspot.com/2012/01/january-sales.html
Thanks, Jack. On my way to your site this evening…
Like it a lot.
Drought of true connection- intriguing words, Kim… wonderful piece. I had to give up those whiskey sours years ago.
:-) Laurie… I’ve actually never had a whiskey sour, but I was pondering the fate of women my age who’ve partied hard and never really settled down. Why was I pondering that? WHO KNOWS! I am the opposite, having found my life’s love at age 17, married him at 21 and finished having babies before I turned 30. Now, at 52, I feel like I am living a second lifetime!
Wow, I like this very much. Great rhyme and rhythm, and content too!
Thanks, Mary. I refined it at FEPC, a crit group that I highly recommend to those who want to improve their writing.
Wow, Kim! This is such a visual poem. Your descriptions are incredible and I am blown away by “wasted stories within these walls”. I think of all the wasted stories . Great poem!
Perhaps tomorrow night, Kim. :) Things might be better. Been there and done that in another life and since have watched it still be the scene on Bourbon Street and suroundings.
I love your string of clauses and am debating what the last ‘verse’ is. Were the first line add one word there could be an ending sentence, ‘So much (is) left …’ Poetic license being, I read it in for myself.
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I like the double entendre of the line without the word ‘is’ Jim~ let’s people do what you did… Glad you like it. I am tempted to finish it there, though. Let’s ponder that…
This brings an old, old whiskey sour memory to life; headache included. Great picture painted here.
As I told Laurie, I have never tasted a whiskey sour. I’m an ultra-light weight, but “Whiskey Sour” SOUNDS so good!!!
Loved the imagery…can see the smoke…hear the clink of glass…stories filling the place…no one cares enough to get to know her/him
O I have lingered too long, for too many years, toward the bottom of that glass — so long I came to love the blight, and always will, though I try not to live that way anymore. Very strong poem.
”drought of true connection”
what a way to emote in words!!
I am tumbling through your posts too long un-visited..this piece of course sang out..to connect..so key in making the tiniest change..and oh, how slow..much slower than a whiskey..(your collection of small stone poems are making their way into my pocket too)..thanks..as ever Jae..
Thrilled you are able to take the time, Jae. Think of you daily!
elegant expression, love the greenness in your blog.
join us with a free verse today, let your poetic muses shine and feel divine,
bless you, happy 2012..