As the first specks of a blazing morn
prickle me
somewhere behind my neck
bidding farewell to another august night
there's a face in my sight
bidding farewell to another august night
there's a face in my sight
smiling at my plight
like a high class whore on a paris street
she struts her stuff
shifting the focus
at the forest fire
somewhere above my navel
a two faced kindness
grazing the skin
raking the memories
like a high class whore on a paris street
she struts her stuff
shifting the focus
at the forest fire
somewhere above my navel
a two faced kindness
grazing the skin
raking the memories
Her eyes bore into my lens
through the warps and wefts
defying trapped contradictions
in a simulation of boldness
placing that palm on her hip
she strikes a pose
a fire drill singed with smoking sparks
an impression
of a scorching yellow torch
© SONNY
Victoria has us writing characters for MeetingTheBar today.. .... at dVerse
a two faced kindness...ha that says enough right there...smiles.... fire drill singed with smoking sparks...your image of her standing hand on hip is strong and leaves one wonder a bit...
ReplyDeletei didn't ask her pose....nothing...of course i always ask for permission....and she nodded ....and then she turned around and sashayed closer and struck this awesome pose...i loved it !!!
DeleteSonny, especially vivid images in this one that really portray the "heat" of the scene. And you've chosen some great active verbs to make it come alive.
ReplyDeletefirst..love that title and it made me curious for the poem to come..really like the vividness of how you paint the character...
ReplyDeleteI wondered throughout (and still do) if she was a dream, a fantasy, an eruption of heat and passion that woke you on a summer morning. At least that's what I saw. ;-)
ReplyDeleteno...writing about the woman in the picture ...came across her one morning , as i walked around with my camera...:)
DeleteThe fire of the image caught well by the words
ReplyDeleteWonderful, vivid write. Great picture, too; love the colors!
DeleteOoops! Don't know how I wound up attached to John's comment. Early morning got me, I reckon!
Delete'A high class whore on a Paris street'...great line. It's strange how (mostly) everyone loves a camera...sge decided she did, it seems. Love the passion in this.
ReplyDeleteWonderful passionate words creating a fine image.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
She didn't like the camera one bit
ReplyDeleteBut it seems her fire was lit
Sure if one is like some high class whore
They will never be a bore haha
"at the forest fire, somewhere above my navel". I like that part. Cool write mannu xxx
ReplyDeleteGrabbed my attention from the first word..such great descriptions...rich...love that photo and love that title. I like the reference to "...at the forest fire somewhere above my naval" too.
ReplyDeleteperfect write for the photo, I didn't see her as a scorching yellow torch until you put the words in my mind, and then that is all I can see...
ReplyDeleteGood Morning Sonny a beautiful write as always full of visual expression just like your images;)
ReplyDeleteThis blogging platform suits your creativity beautifully Sonny. I am here now too thanks for the prompt.
ReplyDeleteAn excellent write and your image is truly exquisite. So full of beauty of the true face kind.
Unfortunately for me, looking at the photo I see the lady dressed in bright warm beautiful colours and immediately get the impression she is pregnant. Therefore, I can not relate her to the poem.
ReplyDeleteThe poem by itself is very intriguing.
found you and also found the reference you spoke about , how we see the image of the photograph all different and how to interpret your subjects. Love you !!
ReplyDeletehttp://crazydaneinafrica.blogspot.com