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From up here the houses are
Copper-topped boxes
Under a silver-spoon sun
And trees with
Tiffany trinket leaves
Drop pendants of jade
And jasper on
The ornamental ground

We amend our faces
To suit the mood
I try and seduce
Your eyes to sparkle
You encourage my mouth to flourish
With rows of broken tusk and pearl
We combine to be
More semi-precious

Church and spire aglow
Like golden
Fiddle and bow from
The Devil went down
To Georgia

We look towards the river
Lost in
Metallurgic meridians
Twenty-fold fathoms burying
Lost legacies of bronze and quartz
Guiding gilded fishes
Past the monumental copses
And the emerald heavy banks
Thick with
Encrusted buds

I drop you on your knees
Knee-deep in black-agate and coal dust
And murmur to your dancer’s neck
How I’ll trick you out in jewels
Robe and throne and crown you in
Cascades of cloven broaches
Make you shine with treasuries
Of newly opened fruit

Wood and stone and animal
Fossilised and petrified
A supernatural preservation
In a museum fit for kings

Faberge and Cartier
Millionaire enchantments
Fabulous as wonder-tales
In which you are the princess

This is my country in words for you
Arrayed like family silver
And family heirlooms offered up
As for a private auction
Because the real thing made you sigh
And cough and pine
For lost boutiques
And turn your back on me and say
“Let’s get back to the farm”

So a spun-silk make-believe
I make for you in enclosed rooms
And summer's colourful collateral
Goes tumbling down to earth


------
The human race, the only race I know where everybody loses.


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Comments

The following comments are for "Antiquing"
by AuldMiseryGuts

Artifacts Of Life
Very exquisite poem.

I think the ending of the next-to-last stanza could use a tweak - something about the tense and wording bothered me.

Very satisfying piece of work.

( Posted by: gomarsoap [Member] On: June 26, 2006 )

More than semi-precious
Exquisite indeed: that first stanza is riveting with its antique-jewellery images... and the way you riff on it into the second, adapting your theme to the poem's people, is enviably clever.

I actually really liked the way you wrap things up in the final stanzas - if anything, I'd cull only a little from the middle where it begins to weigh too heavy (too much jewellery and not enough human interest?)

There's a wonderful atmosphere in this whole poem. I'd always though antiquing would be staggeringly dull. I was clearly utterly wrong.

( Posted by: MobiusSoul [Member] On: June 26, 2006 )

auld - mystical
I really loved this piece. So much imagery. Very inviting and enchanting..

...as for antiquing, the beauty of it is in touching pieces that were a part of lives in years gone by. You see a scratch and wonder how it got there - thinking about it kind of brings back a time an place mostly forgotten.

I look at an old cradle and wonder what baby slumbered there, and if they lived past their second summer when so many babies died once they were put on cow's milk - or if they survived, who they became...

It's quite a mystical experience once you embrace the rich history of each piece.

Regards,
Lady M

( Posted by: ladymitulia [Member] On: June 26, 2006 )

feeding my ego
Thanks again everyone for commenting and saying nice (and always helpful) things, especially gratifying at present 'cause my poor fragile ego's taken something of a battering lately. There's a fine line between rejection and open hostility. Some of the feed back I've been getting recently from the great and good in the wider world read like poison-pen letters from angry stalkers. And audiences! Don't get me started on audiences... Kids can be so cruel *sob-sob sniff-sniff*. Wish I had something insightful or at least coherent to say in response, but unfortunately I just fell off a plane an hour ago and my brain in running on caffeine, adrenalin and not a lot else. I need to sleep. Cheers,

Shannon

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: June 27, 2006 )

Shannon!
Come shannon, you wrote a piece of perfect history and your ego needs boosting? I wish I could write with your symbology, but my mind simply does not allow it!
I liked this piece here for two reasons; The first being that as I read this my eyes kept thinking of antique as an old man (my grandfather) and it made me miss him so dearly. Second reason is that each stanza has its own little stressed-unstressed pieces that make it an elusive read. Very nice piece.

( Posted by: Siah [Member] On: June 27, 2006 )

The Gilding of Poetic Decadence
Shannon ~ Lovely work. I think I agree with Gomar that that very last stanza could use a small amount of tweaking (especially those two "makes" in the first two lines). "Colorful colatoral/ goes tumbling down to earth" is just pure decadence in cadence and imagery, as is the rest of this lithe, taunting, wealthy poem.

I'm sorry you've been recieving rejection letters from people who sound as though they're off their meds and venting. I think you have an immense amount of raw talent and an impressive dexterity with language. Maybe the issue is you're writing decadently in an age of post-ironic deconstructionists? Bah to them, then, I say! Fie and whatev!

Keep writing, Shannon. Those pouty editors with pet-issues will eventually catch up.

( Posted by: hazelfaern [Member] On: June 28, 2006 )

Bah humbug!
thanks hazelfaern. Bah to them indeed.

Shannon.

( Posted by: AuldMiseryGuts [Member] On: June 28, 2006 )

Re: antiquing
I really enjoyed your poem. It has a rich elegance about it.I think poets look at things in a diffent way and wonder about more posibilities
and history with an item. So well expressed here.
Your eloquent admiration of your lady is beautiful. Bonnie

( Posted by: bonrudo47 [Member] On: June 29, 2006 )





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