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Click hereuptown New York girl
stoic exterior
over velvet emotions,
education and wisdom
rare combination
old southern salt
weathered tan
pickled interior,
rough on the edges
sand spur demeanor
here for the music
each puzzled by the other,
ease dropping and editing
over micro brews and zinfandels
she writes all forms
her poetry on pages,
he is beach ditties
rhymed to remember
next week they'll write
about one another,
views so different
they won't have a clue
but the Wicked will see
and never reveal,
for velvet and sand spurs
aren't really velcro,
their constant irritation
is best left apart
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 35,000 poems.
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You may agree with that observer but your heart still goes out for those two. Do they remind you of yourself in the past? Possibly at present? If they can make it maybe than… There are no wasted Illusions here, but people work with what they have. Bigger miracles have happened.
I share the sentiment of WickedEve; a poem with a narrative is something I crave. Another quality: It feels like this poem needs to have a melody. That’s for me, as far as I can go to the roots of the poetic impulse.
This poem does not give you a sense of heightened reality; it does not point to the most abstract or the most elusive aspects of life, using the most refined language. This poetry sticks to the ground. It gives you a sense of the depth of your daily scenes. With this poem I could stay and not feel alone.
Their poetry paints pictures neither one will recognize or remember; perhaps it be best if they hang on till last call.
This is a great story.
Love these stanzas:
she writes all forms
her poetry on pages,
he is beach ditties
rhymed to remember
next week they'll write
about one another,
views so different
they won't have a clue
Love how it portrays two completely different people who can still share common talents through writing.
ironic commentary, done in your typical no-nonsense style....very good!