The Huntress' Poems :)

Sorry about the last post - I have no idea how I even managed that since I don't even have Noura's poems in yet. You can all throw tomatoes at me.
Sorry xxx

Please comment with the poem you think is the best :) Thank you x

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#1 On boosting egos

It's not yet winter and we're already hunting for wool,
if not cotton, and somehow, as sales seasons sneak by,
clothes layer as much in closets as they would upon skin,
when harsh winds bite like mad dogs on bones.

Still we flicker through sleeves like magazine pages,
expose a kaleidoscope of aztec and technicolour
as the stench of utterances swamps our already
faint breath of toothpaste, because time is scarce
in the morning, and our collection even scarcer,
with mountains of old-fashioned fabric exiled
in drawers, tempting nothing but hungry moths.

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#2 In Circles

As of today, life seems only
mean and meaningless. There's no logic
in meshing dirt and dishes in the morning,
or being mesmerized by the mash-up
of tinkling spoons with a lack of sugar, or even
the ticklish words with too much salt.

Soap only seems to sink in sponges
during the night, always
from left to right, then clockwise
then drown, down
down again, on auto-pilot,
like a washing machine,
its socks and sadness
going with the flow, until
there's a flood that kills
and all you're left with
is a push-up bra, and a void,
avoidant of life.

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#3 Myopia

At night I reproduce myself, hologram
on magazine gloss, floss my teeth
with a peppermint tease; -3.50 dpt
softening the way I look:
no pus-filled polka dots
skirting my chin, nor perfume-
stricken nose, intimate
with its bee-stung blemish.

It reminds me of the mornings
contacts colonized my world-view:
skipping breakfast to catch a bus,
pavements overran by a design
of bubblegum, fashionistas fancying
over-tweezed polaroid portraits,
and the rain starting to operate
on side-swept bangs.

From my seat, I could see
a battery cage of narcissists,
synchronously dipping brushes
into the clip art of their skin,
but it comforts me that I left
my mirrors and magazines,
sandwiched, in the corner
of a shortsighted sanctuary.

I am very fond of poem number two

These poems remind me of entering my sisters' rooms when I was just 4 and they were in their late teens. The mysteries of makeup and underclothing were sometimes overwhelming in their very alien nature.

# 2 is my favorite. It evokes a deeper emotion, near to the sense of recognition of the banality of everyday life and the absurdity of keeping up with it.

# 1 is good, especially where it provides a glimmer of that recognition of absurdity which is more profoundly set out in # 2.

# 3 contains such irony that it drew a smile from me despite my short attention span for the subject matter. (Picture the Scrubs gang with Carla and Elliot discussing Shoes).

I pick 2 because I felt more connected to it, I felt it offered more depth of emotion, rather than the creativity approach. It felt quite relevant also to how a lot of people feel with this time of year, and the weather etc. So I choose 2. x

Thanks for the feedback, guys! (And also those on the previous thread, it was actually refreshing to see that people noticed it was me who wrote those poems even though my name wasn't up there!)

Are you counting dear Huntress??
your poetry is better than that!!

I don't think I quite understand what I'd be counting...? o.O

The responds to your poems that should be booming all over place and they don't, because you are better than that!!

Edited: but I have the notion that you wer not , you were just being polite

Oh, you mean it that way, haha. (Sorry for being slow in understanding.) Well I wouldn't even have to count, that's what the site does automatically. ;) But thanks for your response, too.

:) :)

I have to agree that number 2 is the best out of the three. All are very creative, though!