I
build
bells of bones
and pretty stones
string them for the wind that blows
backwards
east to west
stealing words
stealing sage sweet breath.
I
sell
trinkets
from roadside stands
to catch the eye
and money in hand
of some white man
and his lady;
they don't sleep well at night.
Neither do I.
Fiction in 55 words for my G-Man!
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Thursday, July 19, 2012
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
27 comments:
Wonderful, so many twists and ideas that make my brain stretch.
Mama Zen--The way you use white space (or in the case of your blog color scheme, the black space) would make a wonderful poetry lesson.
Do you drink that same Bolthouse Farms elixir that Fireblossom guzzles? (I thought that might account for the varied "voices" that emerge from your poems.)
"bells of bones" I like that.
Sounds like this gal is selling something she can't afford to give up to people who were better off without it. Misery, unease and double dealing. Yes!
This sounds like voodoo, with just the right amount of creepy.
Sounds she is selling some witchcraft stuff ~ Enjoyed it MZ ~
this has a great cadence to it...and some fascinating imagery as well the bells of bones....roadside stands are cool...interesting closure on this as well...
Mama Zen...
I sure have missed you!
Fantastic and thoughtful little ditty.
Loved your 55
I appreciate your support more than you know.
Thanks for playing, and have a Kick Ass Week-End
I love it, MZ! Enjoy your weekend1
I love this. It truly paints an intriguing picture.
The last two lines are my favorite:
"they don't sleep well at night.
Neither do I."
(!)
Thanks for another Friday 55!
Mine's here. :)
Love this eiry "spell" like poem.
I was there...wow, great details.
You are such a prolific writer and poet.
Wonderful job!
hugs
shakira
The Dinner
I couldn't help but think of the stands along the road near the Grand Canyon. I couldn't help but think of the crafts made and sold there as long as there have been white men willing to travel to the rim to gaze in and walk away. But voodoo sounds cool, too. Great 55.
Oh, this is deep on quite a few levels. There are many kinds of exploitation, aren't there. Very nice write MZ
Love the way this moves! and it definitely is a song too-
I love the composition of these lines, the sounds infused in the words. The first stanza is just brilliant, and the follow up keeps the whole scenario burning along the nerve-endings.
I love the feel of this. It depicts a common picture, but has an eerie undertone. Well done!
Very cool twist on what started off so tranquil and charming. There's always a story behind the scenes.
Terrific 55, Mama Z!
Love this Mama Z. Thanks for visiting mine. I decided I wasn't terribly proud of it as poetry, so I'm not going around to others, so I don't invite readers. I'm glad you stopped though so I could read this.
Well done, Mz
I get it. And how true
Rick
Love the form and rhythm, love whatever it is that feels like jaded indifference here. Very nice.
Great details, cool write!
Wonderful rhythm, perfect language. Love this! Thank you.
Voodoo was my first thought too. Spooky.
I love a poet who isn't afraid to put "I" on a line by itself. That's a very brave, bold thing to do. And you did it very well and effectively.
"the wind that blows
backwards" ... Awesome.
"stealing sage sweet breath" ... :)
No one interesting sleeps well. Certainly not a poet.
Perfection.
55 words of truth, not fiction, as this is a stark, in-your-face description of a scene I have seen more than once, and of a people lost unto themselves.
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