Erased Like Perfect
Erased Like Perfect
thursday morning again,
aluminum-green and matted,
dead though listening for sophia
to click-step the short hall,
orange and erased like perfect pacifism.
she won’t come again after today,
vein-gnawed and mealy,
ceramic-yellow,
hum-broke/plaster/wounded.
i will miss her.
thomas called at 9, his voice thimble-bushed,
hazel-doored noise murdering
simple words in machine-red rows.
he asked what i was reading.
i answered honestly; myself, sophia and cigarette packs,
things that taste like almonds and warm glass.
sophia, you have gone, your winter-mouth
is pouring chicken bones---
your lovers are drowning;
i am crying in your sizzle-blue ears,
listening to beautiful violent colors
of your wrist-snap literature.
(First published in my chapbook, Two Strophes for a Stain Bleeds Her Lover, co-written with C.E. Laine, published through Little Poem Press, Oct. 2006. (C) Michael Paul Ladanyi.)
thursday morning again,
aluminum-green and matted,
dead though listening for sophia
to click-step the short hall,
orange and erased like perfect pacifism.
she won’t come again after today,
vein-gnawed and mealy,
ceramic-yellow,
hum-broke/plaster/wounded.
i will miss her.
thomas called at 9, his voice thimble-bushed,
hazel-doored noise murdering
simple words in machine-red rows.
he asked what i was reading.
i answered honestly; myself, sophia and cigarette packs,
things that taste like almonds and warm glass.
sophia, you have gone, your winter-mouth
is pouring chicken bones---
your lovers are drowning;
i am crying in your sizzle-blue ears,
listening to beautiful violent colors
of your wrist-snap literature.
(First published in my chapbook, Two Strophes for a Stain Bleeds Her Lover, co-written with C.E. Laine, published through Little Poem Press, Oct. 2006. (C) Michael Paul Ladanyi.)
posted by Michael Paul Ladanyi | Sunday, March 04, 2007
14 Comments:
Speaking truly, i didnt get this
:-(..
can u please explain...
I appreciate the read. To be honest, a reader takes what he/she does from a poet's work; it is not for the poet to explain his/her work to the reader. A poet writes for himself or herself, and only hopes that the reader gains some small insight after having read the piece. This is the reality: a poet must write, and does so to understand their own world. When you have the time, read some of Dylan Thomas' work, he is the poet that inspired me the most when I first began writing years ago. Here is a good online resource containing his work: http://www.upei.ca/~english/202/modern/thomas.html Thanks.
Hello, Aurora!
THIS WORK IS VERY GOOD, THANK YOU
gOOD WEEK FOR YOU
Hi,
I enjoyed some the imagery you painted in this poem:vein-gnawed and mealy,ceramic-yellow, winter-mouth pouring chicken bones
but why "sizzle blue ears"? I cannot imagine ears sizzling.
I think “Thursday morning again” is superfluous. It does not matter which day it is because Thursday is never mentiioned again in the poem.
Regards,
Coral
Thanks, David. Glad you enjoyed it.
I appreciate you taking the time to read my work, Coralpoetry. Sizzle-blue ears refers to when there is almost no sound around us. That lack of sound almost sizzles or rings in my ears. Absolute quiet, yet, not. Everything has a sound and/or color. I see in color when words are spoken, and I also am able to taste them. This is called Synesthesia. I have been interviewed regarding this several times. Type my name and the word Synesthesia into Google and you should be able to find those interviews.
"Thursday morning again” is in no way superfluous; it is a day in this piece, unlike any othe--to me, based on the minute events of that day. It is only mentioned once, as it is only one day, and could of been another, but it was not.
Thanks again.
Michael, this work is fantastic, as usual. The open-endedness is perfect in its multi-layeredness. Enjoyed.
Thanks, Aurora. :~) I appreciate your "open-endedness" comment. On a side note, it amazes me that I have recently been receiving comments that make me wonder if those reading some of my work even know what poetry is. Sadly, I believe it is the oppressive times we live in. Seems there is no more room for expression just for the sure sake of it.
Your writing is very impressive!
Thank you, Robot55.5. I appreciate the read.
I laughed at the "Sizzle-blue ears reference."
Let me thank you for complimenting me on some of my photography. That is important to me.
Now the ears.
I am sitting here typing and my ears hear a sizzle sound. It happens to me all the time. I suppose I would be stunned if I did not hear that sound. To see it in your poetry made perfect sense to me.
" Erased Like Perfect" I really like this line...
I agree a poet writes for them selves they are our thoughts and feelings and what one may write can take on an entire different meaning to the reader and I think this is magic when this happens.. your imagery is really unique..
nice blog
Thanks, all. Your comments are much appreciated.
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