Alphaville
#1
Alphaville was my home but I left it long ago
in flight from one of Alphaville’s daughters.
Now I have returned old and still heart blind
to spawn memories, to die
amid the shining new Metropolis
a City no longer my home, but my Exile.

Like Nostradamus in his midnight tower
staring into a bowl filled with spring water
hypnotized by the asylum dark of stars
reflected there into visions of the future
I gaze tonight across Alphaville
see visions of my past reflected in its lights.
My life is written there, a coded holograph,
in its ragged alleys and forgotten paths
not yet scourged and cleansed by the Contemporary.

And if I stand in just the right spot
looking at just the right angle
I can see again my last love, my Odile
her small bodied, black-eyed, ivory skinned self
though she was never mine nor anybody’s.

She is married now, she has a child,
she looks just like everyone else.
There the vision ends, and I am left
with all that remains of my distilled dream
of Alphaville, all but emptied
by my expectant heart.



originally a Pigmas contribution:

Alphaville
where the clock stopped for half an hour
and the Angels of Revolution descended
not to block the route to Paradise, but to lead us to a Utopia
not a Garden this time, but a City.

Alphaville was my home but I left it long ago
my heart broken by one of Alphaville’s daughters.
Now I have returned old and still heartbroken
to spawn these memories, to die amid the invisible wreckage
to be buried alive in the shining new Metropolis
a City no longer my home, but my Exile.

Like Nostradamus in his midnight tower
staring into a bowl filled with spring water
hypnotized by the asylum dark of stars
reflected there into visions of the future
I gaze tonight across Alphaville
see visions of my past reflected in its lights
my life is written there, a coded holograph,
in its alleys and secret paths
not yet scourged and cleansed by the Contemporary.

And if I stand in just the right spot
looking at just the right angle
I can see again my true love, my Odile
her small bodied, black-eyed, ivory skinned self
Odile, though she was never mine nor anybody’s.
She is married now, she has a child,
she looks just like everyone else.
There the vision ends, and I am left
with all that remains of my distilled dream
of Alphaville, all but emptied
by my desolate heart.

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#2
Hi Tim-
I always like your imimitable style, and this piece is no exception. Below I have highlighted phrases that work best for me:



Alphaville was my home but I left it long ago
in flight from one of Alphaville’s daughters.
Now I have returned old and still heart blind
to spawn memories, to die
amid the shining new Metropolis
a City no longer my home, but my Exile.

Like Nostradamus in his midnight tower
staring into a bowl filled with spring water
hypnotized by the asylum dark of stars
reflected there into visions of the future
I gaze tonight across Alphaville
see visions of my past reflected in its lights.
My life is written there, a coded holograph,
in its ragged alleys and forgotten paths
not yet scourged and cleansed by the Contemporary.

And if I stand in just the right spot
looking at just the right angle
I can see again my last love, my Odile
her small bodied, black-eyed, ivory skinned self
though she was never mine nor anybody’s.

She is married now, she has a child,
she looks just like everyone else.
There the vision ends, and I am left
with all that remains of my distilled dream
of Alphaville, all but emptied
by my expectant heart.

I do think that you could offer more descriptive images of Alphaville, to add more realism.
May be more later, after I re-read your poem.
Thanks for this obne,
Mark
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