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A Portrait of days.

Submitted by vandiemenspeak on Tue, 2016-06-21 07:51

How can I stare
at that spot
on the wall
and think of
the nape of
your neck?

Hour upon hour
The feeling ripples out
crimson red echoes deep
from the heart of heart's core.

How can I sit
sifting in silence
the imperfect daubs at
the image of
you?

Day upon day
I float in an eternity,
adrift on a thought
in the embrace of your form

How can I tell lies
to my hands
pensive strum?

While I do away
with time, locked
in the vision,
the exquisite beckoning glow
of your eyes.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
A simple portrait piece.
Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

riotface97

Tue, 2016-06-21 21:52

riotface97's picture
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Not only did I learn a new word 'daub' which, in the case of this poem, is a beautiful one, this felt really raw. Human. One point (and from the opinion of a writer who, himself, is barely experienced) the two adjectives in "exquisite, beckoning glow" seemed to throw off the otherwise really well written flow. Overall however the stanza;
Hour upon hour
The feeling ripples out
crimson red echoes deep
from the heart of heart's core.
Could have been cliched but you defied that. It was new. Fresh. Beautiful. Thank you for the read.
Nick.

vandiemenspeak

Wed, 2016-06-22 06:18

vandiemenspeak's picture
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I agree the two words in the last leg, are a little elongated - but I love them both, so couldn't do one without the other. Thanks for the kind words concerning the central, "heart" of the poem - I did want to convey a sensation without being too "lovey" for want of a better word, wanted it more to be sincere, so thanks :)

Will go check out some of your work.

Take care,

Chris.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

author comment

Esker

Tue, 2016-06-21 21:58

Esker's picture

refined and classy
as some are

I blew in raw as a
an alley cat and mad
stray
pissing on the furniture
and having my way

even calm and not
growling
forever restless
still

the champion of the hearts
came and left their mark
had their taste
drank the wine
sated

excursion of the garden
of eden after Eve and Adam
left

always enjoy the detailing
of your poems
this is a good one
too the ode of the love
and ladies
or lady

thank U!

fave line is for me

"how can I tell lies
to my hands pensive
strum"

vandiemenspeak

Wed, 2016-06-22 06:29

vandiemenspeak's picture
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to knock around with some fine and classy ladies, times past, loves lost, or infatuations gone, younger then, left forlorn on couches at dawn under a cold blanket somewhere in Bristol, or Nottingham, or in some creaky Georgian abandon in a flat above a theatre in Edinburgh - maybe of slightly less repute in some circumstances, but always that longing, clinging closeness - was this the one, was that her? There is always the one you swear you can sense in the deepest of night, when you wake, half dreaming, stuck in another life, can still smell her - innumerable days, an entire summer of loving debauchery condensed into an hours dreaming, then to wake in the cold, and the reality. Realise then it's not so bad, just different, older, a different order of stifling responsibilities, in dreams begin responsibility , so said yeats, i never really understood that line till now.
Inspiring responses as always.

Thank you.

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

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