The walls are beige and white.
The town is bleached by the sun.
Young palms in the pots
overturned by the wind
rock on their sides.
People walk one by one
on one side of the street
in the narrow shade
polished by shuffling days.
Worn down path, new sandals,
fresh shirts and eau de cologne.
Voices amplified by the evening
roll between polished walls.
It is not hot anymore.
But people still looking for shade
out of habit.
Wind has taken away their fans.
They sit at the tables
empty handed.
A waitress runs for rescue
with jars of cold wine,
her chestnut eyes smile.
Cigarette smoke swirls
into the brightly lit night.
Come and sit with me here
at the last house on the street
where breeze from the sea
turns ponytails into wings.
Comments
Seista gives it away.
So it had to be Spain. Nice poem. Some poems are just a landscape painting.
They remind you of the feeling of being there.
I think it's ok for poems to remain on the surface, and just be descriptive. Like a still life. They all don't all have to be the "Raft of the Medusa".
The pigtails are the only slight jolt to finish the narrative, center it with a sort of something to take the description into a poetic moment. Might need a little more voltage, or maybe not...
Hello Mark,
Hello Mark,
Yes it is a descriptive poem.
When I travel I turn into an observing machine.
But it is also a bit like an old fashioned postcard.
I thought maybe to name it a postcard.
Irene
A quiet day away from strife and of course work where Ideas are just muted maybe for ever..
Only one tiny picky:- "Come and sit with me here"
I find that the use of AND in that line is not needed,
the line could be extended a little but NO and lol,
Yours, as always, Ian xx.
Hello Ian,
Hello Ian,
Lol about continuing the line.
It is important what it makes you feel, it leaves the reader free to choose the course.
I suppose so
Irene
Thank you for reading!
Thank you for reading!
Ah
Makes me wish I was there.....stan
Thank you, Stan, for your
Thank you, Stan, for your nice comment.
That is the reaction I was hoping for. LOL.
as expected of a proficient
as expected of a proficient poet...use of literary devices is excellent to create the mood, optics, sound and a great finish "turns ponytails into wings" made me duck to avoid getting hit :)
......................................................................................................
lol. You are safe there.
lol. You are safe there.
Thank you for reading, my friend.
Picture Postcard
As a personal bias I have a hard time with landscapes I love them because they're pretty and disavow them because they're tepid, They are a me to poem because everybody loves them like they love Monet
I love Monet, such a perfect accumulation of marks, damn him!!
Having said that I didn't want to like this but you got me in the last lines
"where breeze from the sea
turns ponytails into wings."
A cruel seduction :)
Dear ZEBRA, thank you for
Dear ZEBRA, thank you for reading my poem! Your comment is interesting. It was a pleasure to receive. I understand your point.
Two things to protect the "landscapes",( if I may)
First, life often sucks so it is nice to find a resting point sometimes.
Second, Monet spent enormous amount of efforts for a simple pond with a few flowers there must be a reason for it, LOL.
I like to "paint" because it makes me remember better my life.
When I read my old poems I relive the moments which otherwise would be completely gone.
I am a collector of moments but I don't mind sharing them.
Thank you for your kind comment again. I am thrilled to learn more about your poetic style.