Morning Tea
A crack, and you go
quiet. It's just a story,
after all, an inner curve
to run your way, to endure
what was supposed to be
hopeful, a pain-reliever
of a day.
You and I want beginnings
in a real house
with dark-green frames
and a lake on the property
and a field of cherry trees
and crowds of plum. Here,
I am,
you want to say, and I am
just listening. I know.
The rusty-silver spoon holds
gooseberries, and we are
so sorry for the old German
teacup, its lip pouting
on this beautiful morning.
Strong tea, for a grown-up,
is promising, you are telling
me, the tip of a finger at my eyes.
But your voice is porcelain.
© 2013, 2014 Maureen E. Doallas
_________________________________
This is a "found" poem, inspired by L.L. Barkat's prose piece "A Book of Beginnings: Mood".
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Morning Tea (Poem)
Labels:
creative writing,
desire,
found poetry,
L.L. Barkat,
loss,
love,
memory,
poem,
poetry,
poetry writing,
relationships,
tea,
writing
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15 comments:
oh, look at you! I love this. Found in the archives of a beginning that was only that. A beginning. Fitting that it began a poem. :)
What a lovely, intimate, mysterious little story here!
I love what you do with the opening two words. That "crack" is instantly maybe the teacup itself and also the relationship that follows in the poem's story. That "crack," right at the start where you put it, becomes onomatopoetic. So much you're able to do with just two words!
The porcelain voice... Ties so well to that crack in the beginning... I find deceit and distrust within your love story...
Interesting comment about "deceit and distrust", Bjorn. Would welcome further explication.
honestly having a hard time putting my finger on this one maureen...the rusted silver spoon....the porcelin voice....i am unsure how to feel in the end of it though....
honestly i cant put my finger on this one maureen....some nice touches...the rusted silver spoon and the porceline voice...i am just unsure how to feel in the end....
Exquisite piece, Maureen... I especially like:
The rusty-silver spoon holds
gooseberries, and we are
so sorry for the old German
teacup, its lip pouting
i like this for what it is
just as it is
all the words
and everything the words
hold for me
i
like
it
Your last line is perfect.
What Elinor Wylie did for "softness" and "white" in WHITE SHOES, you do here for delicate and fragile. There is elegance of line throughout and the anxiety of breakage carried through from the opening line. Excellent work here, as always.
Had a full circle type feel from start to finish, great last line too
Beautiful calmness and serenity there - a wonderful effect!
You and I want beginnings in a new house... instantly recognisable sentiment, yet something very intriguing about this couple, and those fine cracks... Drinking tea has never been purely comfort to me, there is something a shade hidden there.
You are a good finder!
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