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Minnesota, United States
As I walk along in life, my muses dance with reflection inspiring me to release the thoughts and emotions of my pondering mind through poetry.

Prompt Poetry & Promotion page for The River

*plus the archive of my older poetry

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Never had a Chance~prose/poetry

 The tale of a barefoot girl with stringy hair and filthy torn cloths. The only child of an almost grown young woman. 

A mother stands in a faded red bathrobe in the doorway of a rundown trailer looking ten years older then her measly sixteen.

 A man in a suit scurries to a black shiny car avoiding eye contact as he passes a girl sitting in a mud puddle. He never looks back.
~
The tale of a girl with loosely permed curls sitting properly in ironed clothes upon an ironed chair. Eyes of decaying steel.

A mother stands with plastic form and purpled face in a living room of false order. Invisible trembling hands confirm the loaded gun of fear.

A man ringed of jelly, stricken white abandons a black shiny car on the edge. Molded by others, lost of self, he dives beneath waters, never appearing again.


11 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Wow, River, these are powerful images, rivetting.Especially the "eyes of decaying steel." and the "living room of false order". Hmmm.......I wrote a poem something like this once but I didnt know it was a prose/poetry form. An interesting format. I love the way you try new forms. This was a powerful read. One can picture clearly each person, and feel the underlying emotions. Well done.

Hope said...

wow! love the detailed imagery. So sad. I can really feel this piece. Wonderful write!
I like the form. i've never tried that one.

thank you

Timoteo said...

This is intriguing, and I've read it multiple times. Still intrigued!

Jingle said...

elegant prose,
well penned...
Thanks for the contribution to poets rally.
have a lovely day.

Anonymous said...

Lovely little story!

Anonymous said...

River, this is such a compelling read. It reminds me of something when I was in High School (eons ago)--an affluent girls high school--and a bunch of us wandered off campus and uncovered a small group of huts, people living in old cars and boxes. The contrast was so stark and changed my-then limited perception of life irrevocably. From the beginning you created a sense of impending doom that culminated in the last stanza. Well-done.
Victoria
http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/2010/11/27/b-is-for-bougainvillea/

Anonymous said...

Very beautiful imagination..
Take a look on my poetry..
http://ashbeezone.wordpress.com/2010/11/25/depths-of-my-heart

Anonymous said...

chilling and succinct

Anonymous said...

Thanks for sharing this one! I love the phrase "ironed chair"--particularly following the more expected "ironed clothes"--a nice touch.

River said...

Thank you for all your comments. :)

Extra thank you to the ones that understood the pain etc of this piece. An intense reality of life usually kept quiet behind closed doors.

Anonymous said...

You've opened several doors this evening with short power filled stanzas. Thanks for sharing these images.

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