Corner Pub #2 |
Perfect Picture |
Kal525 Junior Member
since 2005-12-20
Posts 26 |
I wrote this poem a few months ago, but I always felt that it was one of my best so I thought I would share it with you. It might be hard to understand at first because not all the imagery is what it seems, but I think that's part of the fun (I considered making some of the imagery more obvious, but i feel that would take away from the poem). So take your best shot and let me know what you think. If people are having trouble then I'll chime in with some hints. I only ask that you have a little faith, because it does in fact mean something Link to poem on my website: http://www.lepoeme.com/content/view/21/52/ A chance find, on a little market vendor’s aisle. Lying there on the side amongst countless paintings, no name faces One of many missed in every day paces. The vendor asleep crossing his bare feet Stirs a bit when I start to weep. Looking down I see his frown But notice only the picture so carelessly thrown Turned brown. Around it all the dirt and grime I never thought I’d be witness to such a crime. I bend down, if only to wipe my sleeve with the filth on this unpleasant find. Before I reach it I hear him yell The vendor grabs my arm indignant at my failed good will. I slowly lower my baffled gaze And notice a glow reminiscent of long gone days. My arm still clenched, the sun in my face I witness now what could only be God’s grace. The dirt now fading, something escaping My tears hit you and my world starts shaking. The vendor now yelling at the top of his lungs Can’t even notice what just has begun. With every tear I feel what I always feared Hear your whispers in my ear. My eyes now blinded I can truly see This silhouette of beauty in the space before me. I notice my arm fall down to my side Look up at the vendor and into his eyes Hearing him struggle and hearing him yell He takes two steps back and then runs like hell. My beauty now found lying there on the ground I pick up the painting and put it off to one side. Beneath it I see what lies under your eyes. The dirt covered ground now mixed with my tears Makes a very nice spot on my white handkerchief. I tuck it away, and thank God this day Pick up the painting And walk on our way. |
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© Copyright 2006 Kal525 - All Rights Reserved | |||
Joyce Johnson
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912Washington State |
Well, it might take a few readings to get the full picture. I have an idea that you found a loved photo for sale and were surprised and saddened. My daughter likes andtiques but it pains her to find someone's pictures that once meant so much carelessly thrown into a vendor's bin. Love, Joyce |
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Kal525 Junior Member
since 2005-12-20
Posts 26 |
That was a good guess; however my intentions were deeper than that. The painting is the hypothetical imperfect love of my life, while the vendor is my own conscience trying to prevent me from falling in love because of all the pain and imperfections (dirt) that come with it. In the end, I gladly accept the bad (dirt and tears) and the good (the painting) because they are each beautiful in their own right. I suppose it was hard to come to this conclusion just by reading it. Do you think I should make it more obvious? |
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