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Alana - poems for April 2021 (1 Viewer)

alana

Senior Member
1. (belated!)

Winter seeps in sudden
snug-wrapped feet
Half-moon prints
sink through my palms
Catching me while
the ice angles up

You’re falling for me,
you joke, smiling
Ironic then, that you
caught me so fast
A stopping-short,
a refusal if you will

And you’re careful not
to make promises
Careful, so careful to
keep this arms-length
Even with our fingers
firmly enfolded

My mistake to mistake
this for possibility
A brief flare,
an expensive candle lit
Against the glacier
of the last goodbye

Don’t make this hard,
you say as we say
the last words we’ll
ever say, and yet
Is it me you’re
convincing, or you?
 

PiP

Staff member
Co-Owner
Welcome, to WF and NaPo, Alana. Relieved to see we finally overcame the technical challenges :) Excellent poem.
 

Firemajic

Poetry Mentor
Staff member
Senior Mentor
LOVElove love this... soft, dreamy, surreal vibe... as if all of this is happening through an internal dialogue, rather than actually spoken....hope that makes sense... ;)
 

alana

Senior Member
LOVElove love this... soft, dreamy, surreal vibe... as if all of this is happening through an internal dialogue, rather than actually spoken....hope that makes sense... ;)

Thank you! The internal dialogue is something I like to play with... and 'dreamy' is the adjective I'm always striving for!! :)


.....candle lit against the glacier of the last good bye, wow!

I lovelovelove everything about the imagery around glaciers... slow, freezing, threatening, immovable, unstoppable... it works as a metaphor for so many things. Thanks for commenting :)
 

alana

Senior Member
2.

Pastiche blacktop and box gums dipping low
“The wrong type” for around here, apparently
Leaving leaf-mess everywhere, all seasons
and our cars in need of a wash, always

Tripping down the still centre each morning
Savouring the quiet of black cats and lyrebirds
This little street, all mine to roam at will
Organised disorder, where attempts have been made

Like habaneros licking the roots of elderly eucalypt gents
Mother-in-law’s tongue snaking up to meet awnings
Afternoon delight laying slumbering in the shade
and an aloe tangle waits, destined for sunburnt thighs

Oh, this little street of mine
Where the world is near at hand
 
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Darren White

co-owner and admin
Staff member
Co-Owner
After only two poems I can already say I do love your poetry. You have a great way to put what you see into images. I can see your little street and I quite like it.
 

Firemajic

Poetry Mentor
Staff member
Senior Mentor
Your use of imagery is so well done, it creates such a beguiling mood, takes me back to my childhood where time moved slow enough to nourish the excitement and pleasure of each new day, and there was still mystery in the familiar every day life... lovely work ;)
 

alana

Senior Member
Thanks Darren! I adore my little street. I'm sure I'll revisit it again at some point - maybe an ode to the neighbourhood cat, Hermann, that everyone on the block has regular conversations with every day like he's an actual human.

After only two poems I can already say I do love your poetry. You have a great way to put what you see into images. I can see your little street and I quite like it.
 

alana

Senior Member
Thanks so much for your lovely comment <3 creating a mood is something I'm always trying to work really hard at. And finding mystery in the familiar is where the gold is!

Your use of imagery is so well done, it creates such a beguiling mood, takes me back to my childhood where time moved slow enough to nourish the excitement and pleasure of each new day, and there was still mystery in the familiar every day life... lovely work ;)
 

Firemajic

Poetry Mentor
Staff member
Senior Mentor
3.

Intent as they’d been upon dining
Tom’s industrious worms went a-climbing
He opened the lid
And out they slid
Casualties of impeccable timing


(inspired by jenthepen's wormy limerick!)

Your meter and rhyme are both impeccable in the sad tale of woe... ;) and like Jen, you make this look effortless....
 

alana

Senior Member
Your meter and rhyme are both impeccable in the sad tale of woe... ;) and like Jen, you make this look effortless....

Haha, thank you! I do love a good limerick. Definitely wasn't effortless - turns out there's not much that rhymes with 'climbing' !!
 

alana

Senior Member
4.

The road home is long
Pockmarked with missing miles and moments
Like the cash-only bakery selling the softest white bread
and the lookout where you swung the billy and served up a roadside feast

The road home is so many things:
a slog
a migraine
a pilgrimage
a volcanic eruption
 

jenthepen

Staff member
Mentor
You nailed it with this one - absolutely captured those conflicting emotions of returning to childhood haunts. Pockmarked with missing miles and moments is a great line!
 

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