Sunday, July 22, 2012

Blanched


Figure Eight, 1952, by Franz Kline

On a pale cover
in my mind 8 years
of disappointment spray
melancholy memories
with erotic delusions
~~a sprinkle of powders~~
~~psychedelic powers~~
  ~~illusionary grasses~~
blanche rosy intellect.
Sometimes,
8 stray fibers
wrapped in
blingy gold
swing from the corner,
fling flaxen affiance-
hope that soon dissolves
like the 8 antacid pills
I stuff down my throat
on a daily basis
since you’ve gone.

©laurie kolp

Prompt inspiration: Sunday Whirl #66: erotic, melancholy, rosy, gold, swing, powders, pale, cover, spray, grasses, fling, stray

Picture prompt- The Mag 127

44 comments:

annell4 said...

Ending so melancholy, since "you've gone...."

Daydreamertoo said...

Ahh... a walk down memory lane. Very powerful imagery in this Laurie.
~~a sprinkle of powders~~
~~psychedelic powers~~
~~illusionary grasses~~
and ..loved the thought of 'blingy gold' because it seems the writer is so aware, after the fact, that all that glitters...
A really lovely write.

Grace said...

Nice play of figure 8...stray fibers, disappointments and antacid pills ~ the sad ending may come sooner than later ~

Anonymous said...

gorgeous laurie, you've gathered
sadness into a visceral bouquet
of color.

Brian Miller said...

nice...i like the repetition of the 8s...iron in that 8 is the symbol of luck too...which is opposite of your experience...and the anx at the leaving...interesting touch too the mix of eroticism in the experience as well...

Other Mary said...

I like the organization around the number 8. The pathos here is palpable.

brenda w said...

Dang....8 is more than I take! LOL This is gr8, Laurie. Clever write.

Cat or Dog said...

I hate to join the fray and snag one of your lines aside to make my comment, such as "I especially like the line, or good write, I loved the doo-dee-doo," but it has overpowered me, the rhythm and nuance of this string compels me to conform to the crowd with compliments:

spray
melancholy memories
with erotic delusions

cheers

Oak Creek Ranch said...

I love how you tied it all together with the last few words. Annette at http://hoofprintsinmygarden.wordpress.com/

Tess Kincaid said...

Powers and powders...the antacids...excellent stuff...

Mark Windham said...

cool images, great ending

Laurel's Quill said...

maybe you had a rough night too? "antacids".....I needed one last night.

Susan said...

I am speechless for a change, feeling all the desire and loss in a chaos and abyss that fades, or hopefully fades?

Anonymous said...

that's some trip if the psychedelic powders are black and white

dark feathers dead crows

Elizabeth said...

Turned on its side, the number eight becomes the symbol of infinity. Perhaps, until we experience the upheaval of definite loss you so well describe here, we have no real understanding of just what infinity means. Yet, until we actually taste it, we can not really appreciate the fragility of all that is life. Thank you for this one,

Elizabeth

izzy said...

Glad pain isn't always infinite-
liquifying antacids and other difficulties I hope! Thanks.

Peggy said...

There is so much loss and sadness in this. Definitely strikes a mood. I hope it is not biographical! But good writing.

Unknown said...

Nicely tinged with melancholy.

Carol Steel said...

I liked the build up of pathos and the ending in melancholy. Nicely built and nicely done...paints a great word picture. Thank you.

JJ Roa Rodriguez said...

great write! i love the way to highlighted some of the lines too...

JJRod'z

kaykuala said...

Somewhat depressing and sadness around it and 8 pills daily. Sometimes our feelings overwhelm us. Great write Laurie!

Hank

irene said...

Laurie, I'm captivated by the 8 stray fibres and that phrase "fling flaxen affiance" is so great. Like Elizabeth said, eight is the symbol of infinity.

Anonymous said...

Vivid imagery! I love the way you ended it...8 antacids :)

Unknown said...

I enjoyed the light airy sounds of the powerful phrases strung together in your poem, Laurie. Thank you for sharing this emotionally charged work. Well done.

flaubert said...

Laurie, You have put these words into a work of perfection.

Pamela

vivinfrance said...

Your Wordle really makes those words work for their living. As someone else said in textspeak: gr8.

Kathe W. said...

sadness written so well

Lyn said...

An incredible stream of consciousness, that ends so poignantly...hoping for a recovery!

Jules said...

'blanche rosy intellect'
Is that what it is/was like to wear rose colored glasses. I did know a few folks who wore them in the 1960's.
You've captured that era for me in your verse. And I was just a misfit of that time.

Thanks for your visit.

Helena said...

You know, never did I think I'd enjoy a poem that included antacid pills in the mention - and here I did! That was beautiful. You have to be real talented for that!

Anonymous said...

I was instantly caught up in this, and loved every moment.

Ginny Brannan said...

Some really fascinating imagery in this one Laurie. Between the powders, psychedelics, and grasses sounds like 8 wasted years of illusions. No more antacids, time to move on!

21 Wits said...

Blingy gold, your word choices make this piece just glow! Excellent! But sad too.

Walt Wojtanik said...

:D is for the mastery of this piece. It is warming to see your words flow, measured and deliberate. An ending that grips.

Cathy said...

Love how you end it. Didn't expect it, just fit in perfectly

Wayne Pitchko said...

nice ending for sure....love the imagery..nicely done Laurie

Tumblewords: said...

Stellar!

Dana Dampier said...

8 Antacids to battle the anxiety rising in your throat and chest. I've been there.

Dave King said...

with erotic delusions
~~a sprinkle of powders~~
~~psychedelic powers~~
~~illusionary grasses~~

These images captivated me. Without them I might have found the end a tad melancholic.

Silent Otto said...

This is a wonderful tribute to "the golden firls" , Laurie, they are indeed infinite

Helen said...

... didn't expect that he would be gone. Beautifully composed, Laurie.

Susan said...

Yes, plug up the holes in memory that the "erotic delusions" flow in through. It is not the intellect that is fading, but the possibility of magic that makes the hope--the fibers you still find--Thank God for antacids! Standing under a bridge and screaming when the train passes over might also still that tension. Or a massage, a really good one.

This is quite an insightful poem and a beautiful read.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Excellent Laurie - love what you've done with the Wordle!

Anna :o]

Jinksy said...

Whoa! What a bitter pill at the end...