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Confessions of a 1920's fashionista

Who would have believed that god lived inside
the lining of my fuscous 1920's hat?
And that she would say,
"To break the neck of someone who wants you to,
is not a crime, it is an art."
Florist, taxi driver, caretaker of the Savoy Ballroom:
in their eyes god detected each one’s desire to die. Then
it sufficed to exchange only one or two words
to recognise the boastful manic-depressive,
the disillusioned man's unbound metaphysical reserve,
and the sophist furbishing ambiguous words.
Orchid gloved and double handed, I was god’s artiste,
revealing grinning mediocrity, brackish hypocrisy;
the unmethodical derision of the will to live, dealt with
by exceptional and professional poise--
I asked them each,
"Are you flattered to be selected?"
It catalysed the incredulity of their belief
with the distress of my power,
as they looked up at me in gratitude
for wearing Gabrielle Chanel’s last.
The muted streetlights and preying-shadows
accentuated the colour of my outfit;
foliage benefiting the murderer and the fashionista,
and the small doubt I wanted to write about--
Could it be Roxie Hart who lived inside
the lining of my fuscous 1920's hat?

12 Jan 06

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Not my cup of tea, I prefer coffee anyway. I will say one thing this is far removed from a few of your poems that I consider perfect. I am too simple of a creature to relate to this - opera when I need some rock n roll. Maybe I am off my game today, or maybe you are - no doubt someone (many perhaps) will give you the nod on this one and clap, clap, clap. Thumbs down for me however, everything seems correct but...I'll have another cup of coffee.
 — unknown

Why past tense? Does god not still live there?  If she left, why?

I think a colon may be more appropriate at the end of 6

To me, L7 seems awkwardly worded.  I’d prefer: in their eyes god detected each one’s desire to die.  Then /   I believe you’ve said you don’t like enjambment.  Too clever?  Too contrived?  Too something.  But I like it.

Is the power distressed or causing distress?  

Just for clarification, you do mean the character of Roxie Hart and not the actress who goes by that name?  Nevermind.  Of course you do.

This is one I’ll read and reread until I think I’ve uncovered all of the implications.  It’s fun.

I have decided that the hat is red.  Thank you for letting me decide.
 — housepoppy

thanks for the comment. how many of my poems are you familiar with?
 — kaleidazcope

hmm. good question pops.

i thought the construction in the conditional made the past tense present like?
i have hummed over it though.

do you fancy just telling me what you think it should be. from say here -

"Who would have believed that god lived inside  1
the lining of my fuscous 1920's hat?  2
And that she would say, ..."  

- to here?

i dunno about the colon in 6. a comma on reflection might be better,
whaddya reckon?

i really struggled with 7. i've cut it a number of ways. none as good as your way.
it's a keeper.

ach. i don't mind enjambment, in some cases it works wonderfully. i don't like pieces laden with it. some people overuse it basically.

do you like the then in the line above because it makes you pause before going into the next line?
it's not a bad suggestion. i might use it. i'd like to know a bit more about the thinking behind it though, if you don't mind.

'nother good question regarding distress. my power is distressed. though i was hoping a misread would have some thinking the power distressed the victims. it's a bit experimental. but i may have stepped too far into the hot part of my head in that line.

yeah i mean the character. well actually i meant some bird whose name i can't recall. who bumped of loads of folk in the 20's. it's not really important. it's just a metaphor for the devil.
 — kaleidazcope

seems i am not to receive any answer from unknown today. how boring.

i wanted to know which poems i'd posted that were accessible.
to my knowledge i haven't ever posted an accessible poem.
they're still perfect though. ha.  

maybe they were hoping i would post the one about the origin of tea: first discovered by the princess maitéa in the summer-house of the palace gardens of pahti-puthé, in the capital of bumboustan?
 — kaleidazcope

I don’t think the tense is wrong.  I get it.  Now.

For me, if lines 6—a list—and 7 were transposed, a colon would be a natural.  Seems a sturdier setup for 7—a fulcrum between the two.

Regarding “then”, exactly.  When I read aloud I wanted a pause there.  A comma would be superfluous.  I also like that “then” would work—even without punctuation between—following “die”.  Using the word twice, without saying it twice.

I like 19 as is—don’t think you’ve overstepped anything.  I just wanted to make sure it was intentional.

On a subconscious level, I think I got the metaphor.
 — housepoppy

hmm. we need a grammatarian poppy.
i don't know whether the tenses are wrong or right either.
heheh. what a sorry pair. eh?

i think i'll use then. i know exactly what you mean about the pause. i know it's there. so it's easy for me. a little blind spot maybe.

re. punctuation. i'll wait for some further opinion because i just don't know.

oh yes. you reminded me.

all concious thinking should be left at the door before attempting to read this.
 — kaleidazcope

"thanks for the comment. how many of my poems are you familiar with?"

Let's see, I am familiar with most of them for the past year or so...even your other handle...see I told you that you would get bravos. My fav (sorry can't remember the name if I ever knew it) was about observing characters by a bus...I would like to see it again....I suppose you consider it your worst - lol
 — unknown

hmm. ruminations from a wooden bench. with the pigeons celebrating the return of spring? or the leitmotif of buses. with the scientific introduction on the behaviour of buses? or schhlllflack. study of a sea-side town with a red bus running through it? i write about people and buses and benches so much i forget what i've done.

in relation to this poem. i have thought about your comments. i have considered. making it longer. and fleshing out what i suppose are 'complex descriptions' with character studies instead. ie: show that the florist is a boastful manic depressive with a slack smile that revealed her essential psychological mediocrity.

i'm still thinking about it.
 — kaleidazcope

I believe there may have been a clown or mime involved and maybe it was a red bus, a kiss too. Posted before May, 2005 probably - if I had to lose something must it be my memory? rofl
 — unknown

I could spend like ten minutes reading this and not even get bored. (9)
 — unknown

this is different. i like it.
 — scenecharade

hmm it must be ruminations from a wooden bench ...

In the reddening reflections
which smooth over his eyes,
so like the vigour of ripening
fruit heated by a blush of mauve,
the intimate wound of a phoenix:

He is the Luna Pierot,
absent and incomplete.
He raises his hand
A bus stops.
 — kaleidazcope

thank you for your comments unknown and scenecharade
 — kaleidazcope

thanks for your comments, ill post the revised versions shortly.. love this poem, very original, i havent read anything like this before... your obviously very talented, how long have you been writing?
 — Bobbi


yours, regards

 — unknown

Out of the top drawer, but I never expect anything less. Love the hat, it reminds me of my leopard skin pill box in which i keep my uppers and downers

Larry jangle head Lark
 — larrylark

so many gems in this one. i believe i felt a kick where the cock lays usually still.
   "as they looked up at me in gratitude
   for wearing Gabrielle Chanel’s last."
perfect close to this stanza.

it took off for me right at the mention of a fuscous 1920s hat,
question--if god was calling the shots, wouldn't she then be the artiste and you merely the robotic mechanism she uses playfully as an agent for her madness/art?

and is the manic-depressive the same as the one who believes that god resides in the lining of that hat?
 — QBaskerville

I like this. It would be more interesting if you had maybe referenced a real person from the 1920s instead of Roxie Heart.
 — stackpop