04-22-2014, 10:29 PM
(04-22-2014, 02:07 PM)Brownlie Wrote:"noire" is the feminine form. Also used as a quarter note in music. This is a love poem. Not so much "art" but if you picked up "modern" from this, I'm okay with it. Religious imagery is intended. I am nothing in the Christian sense without her. All subtitles should be in italics...(there's actually lots of formatting going on in this poem)...I have just not learned how to do anything like that here. Very Forest Gump when it comes to this stuff.(04-22-2014, 01:00 AM)71degrees Wrote: Not dark; dreamy-- With the roots of the word in blackness this is an interesting lineDid you mean Noir or Noire? This is quite an interesting arrangement here. One issue I have is with the word Modern which means the present and the period of Modern art. In connection with the word tragedy it seems like the word is connected to art, though there is no tangible error to point to there and maybe you were referring to art I just didn't get it. Some interesting stuff here, a lot probably went over my head. Hope you keep at it.
“Have you ever?” she asks.
No reply. No echo, either. --Echo makes me think of the myth of narcissus
Boston; a song - Curious uses of semicolons here they don't appear to obey the rules of prose, but perhaps they can be useful like this in poetry.
[/b]
Amidst mindless confusion;
more than a feeling.
Devil-May-Care
Sometimes, we watch different
sunsets from the same window.
Chivalry -- Always a doomed concept
Once she tricked me
into believing what moves
in me should be saved, -- Connects to the religious ideology that runs throughout the piece.
if only I should hold on.
Four O’clock
She checks her iPhone; something
is missing, something too important
to overlook. Her heart skips a beat.
I can see it.
Modern Tragedy
When she cries, her tears
are yesterday’s snow;
all going to the place
they melt to. -- This is quite interesting
Fragments
decisions; like a flower
shedding petals
one morning before dawn,
you sang to me
we can laugh in a pew, can’t we
love, before we pray? -- Very anti-catholic
Gong fu
Under foreign leaves, while children sleep,
we rouse each other and brew tea.
Declaration of Love
Whisper, she says, kisses
my cheek; it is so cold this day,
her lips imprint on my skin.
I rub it for luck.
Thanks for your comments. Very helpful.

