Like a giant ta-da
Enchanted’s
Prince Charming
Self absorbed
doofus
Discounting the
non-language choices
Attempts at
the poetic
He croons, “Please
pardon the nausea”
Elemental
writing
Typewriter scribing
Pound the key
destruction
Pinky finger
still held high
Curiosity
asks:
Has that
always been present
The spot of
tea ever ready
Phalange aiming
for luminescence
Chuckle, not
guffaw – fills
The xenophobic
space
On its way to
Xanadu
Or Nirvana or
the jar
Of Xanax and
who knew
The Xanthic
jukebox was
A sunny shade of yellow?
(Today's poem was prompted by the folks at We Write Poems - Today, it was an automatic writing/poetry prompt combined. Interesting... results.)
Interesting read. I enjoyed the humor and how the vivid images bring the poem to life.
Posted by: C. R. Stone | July 21, 2010 at 09:09 AM
I got a strong sense of escape or perhaps a waiting to transcend, which for me, made the photo of the winding staircase very poignant -- were we circling up or winding down... I was engaged by this work...
...rob
Posted by: rob kistner | July 21, 2010 at 09:25 AM
Thank you, CR. I should stop apologizing for it.
Rob, engagement means a lot to me. THANK YOU for your comment....and yes, on the xanthic winding staircase.. now that you mention it, the metaphor goes even deeper.
Posted by: Julie Jordan Scott | July 21, 2010 at 09:37 AM
Love these lines:
Typewriter scribing
Pound the key destruction
Pinky finger still held high
It's almost a foreshadowing of the spot of tea.
Yes, engaging and spirited poem and a wonderful staircase. The poem and the staircase make me want to run up and down—with a cup of tea held aloft.
Posted by: Linda | July 21, 2010 at 10:15 AM
Love the winding feel of this Julie!
Pamela
Posted by: pamela | July 21, 2010 at 10:31 AM
Julie, This was a bit of a ride, I loved it! Beautiful picture, too. I want those stairs, and the building that goes with them!
Posted by: brenda w | July 21, 2010 at 11:15 AM
hahahaha -- You and I must know the same "prince." But, a bit of Xanax, and he turned tolerable. Fun poem, Julie! Thanks.
Posted by: Linda Goin | July 21, 2010 at 08:21 PM
Ta-da! Yes Julie, I love this poem. Just that perfect imperfect slight step to the right or left bringing the surreal into home. I can feel the brush strokes on the canvas too. Engaging, yes it is!
And Shambhala was just on TV tonight, but I fell asleep before finding out where! (Late, and there goes my sense of humor.) (Which your poem also invokes.) Yes, don't apologize. Good poem Julie!
Posted by: Neil Reid | July 22, 2010 at 12:11 AM
Don't believe I've ever run across doofus in a poem. Glad to see it. good word.
Ya gotta love a poem that announces itself with a flourish of trumpets
Posted by: barbara | July 22, 2010 at 11:49 AM
nice one Julie.....thanks for sharing your words
Posted by: wayne | July 23, 2010 at 09:50 PM