Girls on Film
#1
breasts bulging from cotton bras
shown just above the rim of a blouse,
light blue, sedate, to contrast with the blood
which drips down her arm. RED means passion,
check the dictionary. RED symbolises what the studs
would like to do with little miss priss, as she dashes
through the big dark house, locking herself
in closets to scream like an opera singer
reciting some deranged melody.

or if her innards stay that way
we must endure a parade of dresses.
I'm sure as a girl I liked dollies
and dreamed one day I might marry
a farm hand with a fear of shirts,
but leaving childish things behind
is a talent these bimbos didn't learn.
so you're sitting in a coffee shop
and the rich jerk who treats you
like a charm bracelet has just proposed marriage,
while the infinitely more handsome actor
who would satisfy your sexual needs,
buy you flowers and not come on your face
lingers outside, selling pastry from a truck
to survive. whatever is a girl to do?!

I'm sure we'll find out before the pop song
which blares over the end credits,
and we take our date's arm
while he asks to share a taxi home.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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#2
(05-03-2011, 10:11 AM)Heslopian Wrote:  breasts bulging from cotton bras
shown just above the rim of a blouse,
light blue, sedate, to contrast with the blood
which drips down her arm. RED means passion,
check the dictionary. RED symbolises what the studs is check the dictionary needed?
would like to do with little miss priss, as she dashes
through the big dark house, locking herself
in closets to scream like an opera singer love this line
reciting some deranged melody.

or if her innards stay that way
we must endure a parade of dresses.
I'm sure as a girl I liked dollies
and dreamed one day I might marry
a farm hand with a fear of shirts, this is a funny line
but leaving childish things behind
is a talent these bimbos didn't learn.
so you're sitting in a coffee shop
and the rich jerk who treats you
like a charm bracelet has just proposed marriage,
while the infinitely more handsome actor
who would satisfy your sexual needs,
buy you flowers and not come on your face don't girls like guys to come on their face?
lingers outside, selling pastry from a truck
to survive. whatever is a girl to do?! would 'whatever is a girl to do?!' be better on it's own line?

I'm sure we'll find out before the pop song
which blares over the end credits,
and we take our date's arm
while he asks to share a taxi home.the last line feel a little off for me.
the imagery of the 1st verse is superb. for some reason and i don't know why, it reminds me of mj's thriller, and Jamie Curtis in the Michael Meyers movie.

then you juxtapose a love story with the horror and it works well, it has a humour that counters the blood and scream of the 1st.

the last line feels a little off, maybe a little weak, i can't say what it is but it isn't gelling with the rest of the poem which i really enjoyed.

thanks for the read jack (jmo)


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#3
(05-03-2011, 10:11 AM)Heslopian Wrote:  breasts bulging from cotton bras
shown just above the rim of a blouse, Not particularly drawn in by these opening lines, but I guess that's just because of my orientation LOL
light blue, sedate, to contrast with the blood
which drips down her arm. RED means passion,
check the dictionary. RED symbolises what the studs
would like to do with little miss priss, as she dashes
through the big dark house, locking herself
in closets to scream like an opera singer
reciting some deranged melody. I like the narrative voice in this, maybe I'm imagining it but there's something like a dry sarcasm here

or if her innards stay that way
we must endure a parade of dresses.
I'm sure as a girl I liked dollies
and dreamed one day I might marry
a farm hand with a fear of shirts, LOL
but leaving childish things behind
is a talent these bimbos didn't learn.
so you're sitting in a coffee shop
and the rich jerk who treats you
like a charm bracelet has just proposed marriage,
while the infinitely more handsome actor
who would satisfy your sexual needs,
buy you flowers and not come on your face
lingers outside, selling pastry from a truck
to survive. whatever is a girl to do?! Oh god, this whole thing made me laugh, not least because it's so sadly true

I'm sure we'll find out before the pop song
which blares over the end credits,
and we take our date's arm
while he asks to share a taxi home. I quite liked this ending (as the poem suggests, views of women bleed from fiction to reality and we know what the guys are looking for) but maybe it's a little too subtle. Just add a little more bite to the closing at it'll be excellent.
As usual, I love the sensitivity of your observations and your dry wit... it was a pleasure seeing you write a satire form a girl's perspective.Thanks for the read
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
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#4
Thanks Billy and Addy for your feedback and kind words; this was written in response to a challenge set me on another site to write a poem about commercial cinema from a woman's perspective. I may delete the last conjunction after "end credits,". I think the problem is that it implies a narrative - woman going to the cinema with her date - which wasn't present in the earlier verses, that were just satire from a female POV.
Oh and Billy, the "come on your face" line was a reference to the sexual practice called "Houdini," where a man pulls out on the moment of climax and rather than ejaculating into his lover's vagina or anus shoots unexpectedly all over her face.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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#5
theres no point of ref to it being a houdini so i took it as the general act of in the face spurting Smile
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