dannyboy

A conversation with Nietzsche

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. (Hamlet. ACT I Scene 5.)


The smell of toast stimulates.

The morning light
Pushing past the frayed curtain
frames memory.

I was

not always a maker
of puppets
carving loneliness
into smiling faces
and black painted shoes –
nor, too,

always had

round spectacles
perched halfway down
a Roman nose.

Grey hair was once
thick, springy and as black
as any witch’s cat.

Young hands
caressed Loretta’s flesh.

full lips
kissed the secret pulse
of vein on her neck

and the outside
of masculine thighs - when firm
not the windless sails they have become -
have been chafed
by her inner thighs;
squeezed hard
to keep me entrenched.

The sheets beneath
earned their keep
and the loose springs of the bed
creaked.

I lost her in Venice to a Gondolier.

She lives beside the rising tears
of the Canalasso,

three sons
and a married daughter named Geppetina.

I misplaced God
somewhere between Venice and Sicily;
on the road, beneath the stars –

a sudden shooting star - I felt
the dearth of Him ;

the pain of His exit
left me breathless
and fearful
of each emerging, impermanent, night.

Dread
gave me the courage
to fashion.

Pinocchio was the forty fifth
and the only one with a stone.

His eyes I found
beneath riddled bark.

the only son
that appeared to move
even as the wood
was being carved.

Baron

I think this is excellent. I'm not happy about the line breaks for "I was" and "always had". They look a little lonely and create too long a pause.

__________________

Eiji Tunsinagi

I really do not know what to say.

Well, OK, I have something. The first line is fantastic. And so are all the other lines.

If I remember the original correctly, the stanzas were much larger. I think when they are broken down as you have here, each of the lines and the words take on a heavier, special kind of weight.

I felt dread in this piece but a whimsical undertone -- all of it so subtle, and your story and images phenomenal. Completely fairy tale.

I don't think anything is wrong with this. Oh! Wait. Except for black as a witch's cat. That doesn't work for me. Am I accurate in considering it a cliche turn of phrase?

Aside from that, this is a mighty fine piece you've got on your hands.

__________________
"nothing is perfect, nothing lasts, and nothing is finished."

"how will you go about finding that thing the nature of which is totally unknown to you?"

Ilasir Maroa

The smaller stanzas are interesting, and I liked the witches cat reference, which is not cliche in context.

__________________
My hopeful book:
Crap! Haven't posted it anywhere yet, darn!
"Only tyranny cloaks itself in shadows. The light of justice can not be hidden."

www.theoddvillepress.com

AHardRain

this is done in my book

huni

Lovely - just lovely. Especially the misplaced God stanza. ; )
I think I had some nits then got to this line;
and a married daughter named Geppetina. and something squeezed my heart and the nits flew away. h

__________________
each time we see the face ...it is our own ideas of him which we recognize. Proust

dannyboy

thank you everyone.

vangoghsear

There are some lines in this that are brilliant. Great job dannyboy.

My only concern about this and it is minor:

Could one of these be legs?

__________________
If writing is wrong, I don't want to be right.

Mermaid on the breakwater

Brilliant. Really enjoyed it, thanks.

__________________
Ambiance Artists Anthology: http://www.lulu.com/content/2293077

SteMcGrath

Very good piece. Some beautiful use of language, simple and used to great effect.

__________________
"He was over at our house struggling with a poem he could not finish, so I took him upstairs and gave him sex. He came down and finished that verse in twenty-five minutes."

L00kbackinanger

I enjoyed reading this dannyboy. The only minor observation I would make is that the line breaks caught me out a couple of times, but on second reading it became smoother. Good narrative poem beautifully written. I've missed your work on here.

__________________

"Automagically the game restarted; by chance a leaf fell at our feet. Brittle and veined with shades of umber. Delicately it crunched, like a shuffled deck."
Jacob Stillmarner, The Melody Of The Lucky Not Good, 1944

dannyboy

thank again to you all. LBIA - these poems are devouring me, I am now working my way through them and trying to connect them all. More shall appear through the edits.