Monday, 21 March 2016


Another poem from the project I am involved in with an art class in Taunton. This poem is a response to a painting which was in turn inspired by Dream Fragment.
It is getting convoluted isn't it?

I sketched as she told me of her dream:
the cup of tea,
the stone faced fish,
the mulberry leaves set to fall...

my colours were chosen for her alone
but I know she will sigh
then speak slow words like these:
yours is a life lived without metaphor,
guileless you offer me your shoddy
as if it were a gift to give.
I could never love you.

At that point I will cry
then freeze those tears to use on some other woman.
What I like about the poem is the idea of saving tears to use again. I have no idea where it came from though.
The word shoddy refers to wool and rag waste that was used to make cheap woollens. I just looked it up and apparently it is believed to be Yorkshire in origin. I wanted the narrators supposed gifts to be regarded as substandard.
I am not sure it is complete either. I suspect the dialogue needs tightening. Time will tell. It's going into a drawer now for a month or so.
Here's the wondrous Annabelle Chvostek Baby Sleep'Til Sturovo.


  1. I very much like the poem Paul. I hope you don't mind if I re-blog through . . .

    1. Hi Rivenrod, glad you like the poem. Please feel free to reblog.
      Sorry for the delay, I'm on holiday at the moment.