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| Sarah Joncas |
When woods are pink and birds court me with tokens red
When gold is boredom’s song and finest robes feel rough
My strings faint mute in search of muse’s scent of life
My name is called by sunlit streets to dance at dawn
Yet forests deep with webs as bars cripple my chance
BUT
My life really has no meter
No rhyme
No steady beat
My verse is crime
I cry on my guitar that gently sleeps
I pray for morning’s chance to breathe
I want to sing my song
I beg freedom
But weep
I’ve lost
Surrendered hope
I’m hid like a trophy
For all to see from distant lands
I’ve lost myself in wedding vows of lust
In woods of pink where birds court me with tokens red
I’m breathing dead
My faith is dust
I’m a silent slave to snare your soul
Look beyond my beauty cold
It’s not really there
I’m sold
And painted for old men
To see
Beware
And pray bold
I swear
Until my song is sung outside a screen
I’m real
Look away
Please
Let me escape
And shop at Wal-Mart for my eggs
Please don’t make me show my legs
Look away
Please
Look away
Help me escape
29 comments:
Wonderful pace to this piece and really enjoyed the last stanza, nicely done!
look who it is...my life is def not in meter...my verse is a crime...great line...i will slip a file in your cake if it helps...smiles. nice write man...glad you found us...
Puts me in mind of how sometimes a beautiful girl will say her beauty is a curse - hard to know for those of us who haven't lived it.
Good to see you Henry. This poem seems to a geisha, in modern guise, confined and privileged, appearances deceptive, and a lot of elusive allusions and illusions going on. I like the repetition, and the structure for some reason just seems to repeat something in the picture that I can't quite define. esp like "I'm sold / and painted for old men to see..." and the play on the Harrison song.
..very sentimental piece… you’ve said more than what your mouth’s capacity to throw… for you speak none of your tongues but more of your heart here… well done… and the image reminds me of a cast in a film i watched many years ago.. though still thinking of the title of the film..
Beautifully woven into a whole.
This is sad, she seems trapped in her life (or maybe trapped in the painting)and forlorn... nice write, and lovely painting; your words reflect well her expression of "look away please".
amazing to read and visualize...the format has me curious. It was heart-wrenching to hear her thoughts, her anguish. I loved the internal rhyming and I felt this line in my gut for some reason: In woods of pink where birds court me with tokens red
great poem and cool recording experiment..wondering ...so who told you that you can't sing...i like
and welcome at the pub..great you found us..
She looked forlorn and melancholic with a tinge of evil eyes. But she is desperately asking to be rescued.
Brilliant poetry!
And the recording is a prelude to a chart-topper? Try it out! It's cool. You can be a pop idol!
Hank
Henry, this is amazingly sad...and you already know how I love your singing! I was wondering where you may have gotten to! Your comment on my blog sent my heart into palpitations...so it is with great relief that I read the comments above as well. I am so incredibly happy you joined us and hope you will again...now you know where I've been hanging. :) And you do know you have to keep that tree...right!?
Welcome back.... nice to see you~
This is a sad and haunting poem of a lady who is captive... the words Look Away Please is heart tugging~
Thanks for sharing it~
Henry- Powerful piece. I love the first stanza!
Excellent, Henry !! The plea for freedom is so earnest here... Interestingly, my poem too was on similar lines... I guess there's some about getting-hidden-away-and-wanting-to-break-free feeling in the air...isn't it?
Very beautifully expressed, my friend... I was moved reading this poem... The first stanza really sets the stage for what's to come... Wonderful !!
Henry~
Have missed you.
This sad piece resonates loss and disillusionment.
Well written.
Hey,
Your format was dynamic and the internal workings of the poem are smooth - i wont pick out anything in particular - i just enjoyed it in its entirety
it stole my imagination away for a while and for that i thank you
This conjured up a lot of images for me. My first thought was of Geishas then all of a sudden I'm shopping for eggs at Walmart, which underlines the reality of the universality of subtler forms of abuse that occur in so many ways, everywhere. Glad to see you, Henry!
This piece has multiple layers but I found myself thinking of a woman trapped who longs to embrace nature and be au natural once more. It's extremely poignant and evokes deep emotion within the reader. I'm looking forward to reading more of your work!
Emotionally charged, sad and powerful...a great piece of art.
Beautifully woven and desperately sad. I loved the flow of this. A fine tale, much enjoyed. Thanks! :)
A perfect fit of form, feeling and image Complex and yet accessible.
A very accomplished write.
I really enjoyed reading this. It was like a voyage within her mind. Beautifully written.
Yikes, I've been this girl. The trappings of the world, the show one must put on. Yet, the pull of the inner workings of the mind and body betray. Somedays I would become nobody... invisible if I could.
You reached me with this one Henry.
There is a captivating push-and-pull to this piece - powerfully portrays your subject. Even more powerful to read it with the picture accompanying it. It's hard to look away. Thanks for sharing this one!
Henry, a fantastic write. I can feel the pain in this strongly. Thanks for reading and commenting on my poem.
Pamela
This poem reminded me of John Berger's excellent Ways of Seeing where he argues the difference between nude and naked in art. One is a portrait and one is disempowering. He also spends a lot of time outlining how women internalize an observer. So even when they are alone weeping they observe themself doing so and have some idea of how it should look. It makes it difficult for a woman to simply exist and emote. You've captured a lot of that disempowerment here with the request to look away. Though I suspect there are several meanings in that: don't see my shame, as an accusation to our uncaring, as a cry for a private life (not to be sold as a sex object), etc.
This poem reminded me of John Berger's excellent Ways of Seeing where he argues the difference between nude and naked in art. One is a portrait and one is disempowering. He also spends a lot of time outlining how women internalize an observer. So even when they are alone weeping they observe themself doing so and have some idea of how it should look. It makes it difficult for a woman to simply exist and emote. You've captured a lot of that disempowerment here with the request to look away. Though I suspect there are several meanings in that: don't see my shame, as an accusation to our uncaring, as a cry for a private life (not to be sold as a sex object), etc.
Henry, a great piece.
I enjoy your writing, Henry. This one is a poem of beauty, depth, and mystery! I like the way you can write so well from another's point of view.
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