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Open Poetry #44
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from the daffodils
| Open Poetry #44 |
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from the daffodils |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738
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Murmerings amongst the crowd mutterings and clicking teeth men were gatherin' wimmen boys were mimicking them-- their daddies acting mean girls were folding arms across pubescence written on their chest awkward wearing their knee-socks and their mothers' weariness siblings on their thin hip bones thrust to one side as they cloned the small town destiny scuffing off the dust of us repetitiously like weeds spouting words they heard like seed from the daffodils they once wished their wishes on... The smoke from stacks of factory had cleared the sky to show the sun. The dust had settled grime on them and "Baby we were born to run" meant not a thing to families going home to pork and beans and denim wasn't cool but mean patches over thatches thin water down the formula and some applesauce for him-- licking spoons and "yummies" tunes to keep the babies fat because the fields will soon be calling them if they weren't farmed out too soon... the factory was gone and June bugs was buzzin' in her hair as she paced the porch and crooned to the baby to the air, to the mountains that she dreamed were ocean waves applauding her-- she could make it there; she paced it, it was sure. * * * She sang aloud to the vacuum knowing no one else could hear and dreamt that Simon, told her,"Dear, You're on your way to Hollywood" while Paula blinked back botox tears, nodding oxycontin buzz... like the gift she is. * * * She sang the solo for her church. Mamma starched her eyelet shirt, as her secrets grew beneath the chamisole that strained the burst of her chest when she sang loud "Amazing Grace" did Daddy proud when she hit that high sweet note, guilty that she thought of it-- while singing for the Lord. * * * The money that she kept from them-- she skipped her dinner and she went up into the attic room, and stored her every other cent for the city bus ticket-- one way outta there. Lemon juice was for her hair. She pumped her fists repetitive. "I must, I must, increase my bust" and studied, practicing the moves of the hip hop black girls who seemed to know just what to do like they were just born to it-- she studied in the mirror and rubbed her tummy, magic hand wishing for a tiny star pierced and dangling there above her--art-- in her belly button taut and maybe a tatoo "lt's art." she pouted, pretense, protesting. noticing the blonde wisp crawl from where she would not touch at all. "It's art." she said to no one left, and no one, listening. * * * At her mother's mirror, she, took the stick of irony painting lines under her eyes and brushed her lashes up. She turned her head and saw herself, and took the lipstick out and felt the grease of it upon her lips. She'd put on too much of it-- so she blotted it and then she smeared on the clean clear gloss. She patted powder, evenly, and made her cheeks like soft silk dreams so much like her Mom's. She dotted shadows underneath her eyebrows and she licked her teeth, practicing a smile... then she shook her pony tail and brushed it out until it fell in curves around her face. Staring at herself, she thought, "I'm a pretty woman too..." She spritzed herself with L'air du Temps and was eyeing Mamma's shoes when she felt her neck skin crawl she looked into the vanity; past herself, she saw her Pa glaring at her in the deep somber mirror's mockery with no need of Mommy's blush, as he said, "Y'had enough? Or will you be all worn like her?" And she was such a little girl, as her Dad's disgusted slur suggested she put on the clothes that her mamma wore to town. The garters, and the brassiere, the stockings and the smirking curse. "My God, you do, you look like her... so git on over here," he lurched. And then the baby cried. * * * Dad fell on the bed and slept. She sang and paced, the baby wept. The factory whistle didn't blow. The boys were sleeping in their clothes; she took their shoes and made neat rows, singing to the baby, blues. Wishing Mamma would come home so she could go, where no one knows. Somewhere some rain and sun a rainbow ticket outta here birds fly one tornado and I'm gone... "I'm outta here." |
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| © Copyright 2009 serenity blaze - All Rights Reserved | |||
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1slick_lady Member Ascendant
since 2000-12-22
Posts 6088standing on a shadow's lace |
amazing as always girl yo can write !!! |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
"At her mother's mirror, she, took the stick of irony" OMG, but this entire piece ROCKS! (Into my library of all time faves.) Seriously Karen, this MUST be printed and distributed. It is a masterpiece, filled with brilliant imagery and the symphony of life, with sounds of THE REAL WORLD BREATHING in every line. You outdid yourself this time, lady K. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I love your epics... you paint such vivid images... and I have to agree with our Kacy little one... this simply left me all undone... |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Kacy is right, Karen. This is like a deep drink of life that should be shared with everyone, all those thirsty people out there. Ida |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
Lady, you got it! Put a stamp on it and send it off! latearrival |
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Pilgrimage Member Elite
since 2001-12-04
Posts 3945Texas, USA |
Oh my merciful heavens. I could see it all, and it could make me cry if I let it. This is too real. Nan (Pilgrim variety) |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I want to thank each of you for taking the time to read through this one. I know it's pretty lengthy, but I was feelin' the "groove".  And a quick disclaimer: This is not another true serenity story. It's just something I made up, and I actually HOPE it isn't real. Thanks for your patience, and for welcoming me back so warmly. Now--I'm off to get ready--it's carnival time and The Krewe of Muses rolls down the streets of my city tonight. I hope I catch lotsa muse-stuff.  Love to you all, and I'll be back. If I don't catch more Mardi Gras Mystery Flu. A little somethin' they don't warn you about in the tourist guidebooks.  ta for now.  |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Wow, dear Karen, what a fantastic write. A length that seemed too short. I held my breath through this intriguing tale, I heard the perfect harmony of sound between words and emotions. Have fun at the Carnival, but don't allow the bug catching you! Love, Margherita |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
I got the chance to read this earlier in the week (you should know by now that I can't resist the word "daffodils" *G*) and was, if you'll excuse the expression, blown away by it. So today, I mosey back in, prepared, or so I thought... but it knocked my socks off again (and now you know why I'm not subjecting the world to my pennings... I'm a walking, talking cliche' machine LOL) Asides aside *G*... this is fantastic!!! *S* And if you make it to Endymion... know I'll be thinking of you and wishing. *S* |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
Ah, another lifesicle - with just the right flavour of Mz. Karentiy.  |
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brian sites Senior Member
since 2002-06-25
Posts 1475usa |
smile you saved up... see what time wrings? awesome |
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ethome Member Patricius
since 2000-05-14
Posts 11858New Brunswick Canada |
Wow! All the way through this I am hoping this young girl gets out of there and becomes famous. However, you wrote truth and reality which applies to the majority of cases. The beauty of this write is that it held me with the clever expressions of life so sagely worded. Youse is a great mood writer Celeste! Eric |
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Mark Bohannan Member Rara Avis
since 2000-06-21
Posts 7269In the winds of Cherokee song |
You my girl are "AMAZING" and your eye of mind and soul shine reality in it's purest form. I particularly liked the following lines ... _______________________________________________ patches over thatches thin water down the formula and some applesauce for him-- licking spoons and "yummies" tunes to keep the babies fat because the fields will soon be calling them _____________________________________________ Mamma starched her eyelet shirt, as her secrets grew beneath the chamisole that strained the burst of her chest when she sang loud "Amazing Grace" did Daddy proud when she hit that high sweet note, guilty that she thought of it-- ____________________________________________ You have a way of looking inside and seeing and then bringing it to us. Not the ending I expected but then again life does that to us now doesn't it? Awesome read. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I read somewhere that the trick to a happy ending was knowing when to stop telling the story. I guess I'll have to study up on that.  Thanks guys, thanks gals, my love to you all. And who knows? That lil ole gal might make it yet.  |
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Mark Bohannan Member Rara Avis
since 2000-06-21
Posts 7269In the winds of Cherokee song |
This one needs another trip to the top ( well actually it should be published ) so up you go. |
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Mysteria
since 2001-03-07
Posts 18328British Columbia, Canada |
You tell her Mark, I have tried telling her until I am "blue" in the face. A book of these lifesicles as I call them, would be a treasure to hold in one's hands. |
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vandana
since 1999-10-22
Posts 10463USA |
enjoyed |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
My golly Miss Molly! Can you ever write! ~ Not that I didn't know that already!!!  Long? ~ No, m'dear! I could have kept on readin' it into tomorrow! You engage all the senses and capture the imagination! Thanks to Mark's bump, I didn't miss this!  Linda |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
 It's very kind of you all to say such nice things. (*winks* to Krista, my daughter--I just recently told her that it took me nearly 48 years to learn to take a compliment, and I learned that from watching Johnny Carson, who confessed once he never knew what to say either)  But that's probably a poem in itself, huh? Or at least a crappy narrative...*chuckling* *AHEM* Thanks folks, it's very kind of you to say such nice stuff.  And I keep meaning to write another one, but this'n keeps blowing to the top like it's...from the daffodils! |
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Artic Wind Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 8080Realm of Supernatural |
Karen, you can write for sure Love it ARCTIC WIND |
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