in cyprus one summer

April 22, 2008 at 7:11 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 13 Comments
Tags: ,

he turned to her and said
my dear you have lost your
metaphorical juvenilia,

escaped into your disdain of her
cluttered and uncultured tongue
she did muttering this aint pygmalion,

disappearing past the event horizon
where she is sitting unraveling
her youth onto an empty page,

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13 Comments »

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  1. such lightness of touch, lovely…..

  2. the page has been turned…
    like this

  3. just came back to say that as someone who writes a lot about the past, that last stanza (strophe……gggrrrrr, hate that word) is particularly poignant, so few words, such movement and images.

  4. so sweet your words..

  5. Tart yet sad on several levels… whom do we mourn for more, her or him?

  6. we all deal with aging in differant ways, no?
    Some by not dealing at all.
    I like how you rounded it out. You make living in memory almost endearing

  7. A distancing of youth under a distancing of wants with a distancing of perspectives into a distancing of desires and a desire for sameness in change; fascinating!

  8. Beautiful! I love it! Lol!

  9. Thanks for the compliments. You are inspirational. Rage on,

  10. This poem, or thought process- is gleaming and beautiful. It reminds me of the minimalism of a finely built table, functional and solid. Yet it has the depth and insight of an Octavio Paz or Robert Frost sentiment. You must spend much of your time in quiet contemplation and critical sleep. Hats off to the degree of beauty you manufacture.

  11. I think there is always something appealing about a woman who maintains that eternal innocence. I was actually thinking about this the other day, in relation to Pygmalion believe it or not. Wondering about the story as an allegory of how we create people sometimes to be what we want them to be.

  12. I’d be lying through my teeth if I said that I wasn’t half in love with you in some terrible kind of way.

    A fan.
    How intriguing, half in love in a terrible way and you are invisible, I must see if I can lure you out. Do I know you?

  13. picture a woman with wavy hair
    the sea behind her hung over eyes,
    and you won’t be half-surprised
    to remember that you do.

    An invisible woman 🙂
    Aha, i see, you make two hands three, let’s hope ’tis not so terrible, nor so half,


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