so different from the women we saw in the exhibition afterwards



her grey curls teeter totter,
each move flute-charmed
by a secret player

she pauses
in front of us// smiles
a trace of beer foam on the lips,

the world spins 80/20,
weightless, from the deer head on the wall,
towards the open fireplace

lips move with each planet
that touches ground
joining the path of pearls,
dipped in an orb-black jar,

her feathers thick with ink,
i wanna write chunks of poetry
with just the puddles
they leave on the ground,

there’s the story of the giant
that gets smaller with each step
when coming close//
some things work reverse,

as heavy rain
spreads nets of dots across the pane,
she turns around
like someone crawling
from a spaceship wreck,
leaving all the things they’ve seen
behind like a worn dress,

shuffles to the table
where her husband waits
patient//full-beard sea of silence

& the waiter serves our meals

smiles…she was a sweet old lady… went with a friend to see an exhibit with paintings by Elvira Bach and on the way we stopped for lunch at this nice, little village pub…

Bri’s theme for MTB at dVerse is ‘bedtime stories, tall tales—&the art of story telling’
the key element will be to tell a story – exposition, climax, resolution, use narrative voice or dramatic voice, tell it straight, embellish, but tell a story… see you at 3pm EST when the pub doors swing open…


52 responses to “so different from the women we saw in the exhibition afterwards

  1. i like the little hint in the middle on the story of the giant and the truth that comes out of that…my fav part is the feathers thick with ink and your writing the chunks of poetry out of it…you created quite the character in this woman…

    hope you are feeling better…

  2. The portraits you paint with your words always brings to life the person…you give us a sense of them not only their appearance but aspects of their character…another delightful read.

  3. This is how the poets do it. 🙂 Very nicely done indeed. A little magic in that, from the beer on the lip to the giant, to the husband. Just so much to like. Chewy and re-readable.

  4. A very imaginative write, Claudia; and I enjoyed your art work accompaniment as well. In the story I like the giant whose step gets smaller with each step when coming close! I can picture that! Smiles.

  5. I was mesmerized from the first teeter-tottering grey curl…and stopped cold at the suggestion of writing chunks of poetry
    with just the puddles
    they leave on the ground–WOW!

    That is like saying, “When you hear all my words, dump them on the earth, and keep in your heart the thought which remains in their place.”

  6. Intriguing story, I had to read it a few times to understand.
    Thank you for your kind remarks on my post last week.

    • Came back for another read and that was well worth it: I may nog understand it all, but it is so full of poetic nuggets [?} and wonderfully descriptive lines, enough for many a read.

  7. I enjoyed your village pub scene, Claudia. Some people sometimes seem to be strong characters and we could weave as story with the feelings they inspire. Lovely painting!

  8. Great story you’ve created, I just love . . .

    her feathers thick with ink,
    i wanna write chunks of poetry
    with just the puddles
    they leave on the ground,

    I also love how the giant gets smaller and how some things work in reverse.

  9. …an eye catcher for sure—she & as a couple… i could picture her wearing that cat-like smile… somethin’ about her is quite too special to earn a poet’s attention… i enjoyed this… smiles…

  10. “& the waiter serves our meals”

    I like the ending of your poems. It’s almost as if there were a second part we wont be able to see but which we can construct in our heads. 🙂

    Greetings from London.

  11. You are reminding me a lot of Wallace Stevens lately, Claudia…delicious images conveying a sort of modernist feel that leave me smiling. Without the help of my stylist, I could be that old lady!!!

  12. Creative description of the woman Claudia ~ I specially like that her lips moves with the planet & the giant’s smaller steps ~ The husband sounds like a typical one, waiting patiently full/beard, smiles ~

  13. A terrific tale well told; puts me in mind of the topsy-turvy vision we too often find before us; objects in the mirror closer than they appear–and the vivid description of the sweet old lady, letting you fill in the back story is fascinating–although my sense of it is that she is bi-polar, a frustrated failed performer, who poses & pivots & pouts whenever in a crowd, and the husband just has to tolerate it because he remembers the nubile nymph he married a half century before.

  14. You’ve intrigued me – I want to find out more about this woman. Especially the lines:
    like someone crawling
    from a spaceship wreck,
    leaving all the things they’ve seen
    behind like a worn dress

  15. What if that little lady was the Second Coming? So much happens on the walk past that when pearls drop, mouths move and in the beginning was the word from which worlds form and melt … or the narrator is slightly tipsy! it’s a good story either way. (When I think of time durations I am suddenly in Borges stories.)

  16. I loved the part of her feathers thick with ink and you want to write poetry with the puddles they leave on the ground. That was the highlight of the story for me.
    Great metaphors… very well crafted.

  17. “like someone crawling from a spaceship wreck” — Your imagery is always so great, Claudia!

  18. Yes, you paint so much with words, I can imagine the scene, and your perspective is always from an interesting angle. And I love this line:
    “i wanna write chunks of poetry
    with just the puddles
    they leave on the ground”

  19. there’s the story of the giant – All great stories have giants and magical lands. Chucks of poetry that make a ripple. This is inspirational

  20. I can so picture this woman, this moment at the restaurant. Something we’ve all witnessed at some time, but just filed away in our heads. You have pictured it well Claudia, this lady with gray curls, worn dress, lips moving, shuffling to the table, sounds like most of the elderly from the Nursing facility where I work. We must respect them and give them their due, if only for the longevity of their years. Nicely woven story, Claudia.

  21. I love this.. that opening stanza is just great.. and the one that begins, as heavy rain.. gorgeous. A slice of life, a moment in time captured. So nice.

  22. There is so much movement, so much life … this poem is so full, but not too full. I love this Claudia. Ha. I started reading it and said hmm, this is familiar so I looked to see if I had commented, but had not. However I had come here earlier and read it. It is a very good poem.

  23. It’s amazing what the trail of life could bring..just in imagining a life now..thousands of lifetimes old…living vicariously through decades of other lives in shows..smaller..screen..bigger.. screen..and across the 3D landscape of life as well…

    It’s almost like living forever..
    But it is living forever

    i love going anywhere and everywhere .. meeting random stranger..particularly older ones..and imagining..their Universe..and ‘trying’ on their shoes…

    I do the similar thing in restaurants..or anywhere else..that folks flow..i love the way you incorporate these kind of experiences in your tHere too..i get to enjoy yet another life..told through yet another pair of eyes..ears..and all the senses..that poetry can bring

    to life..the ultimate story..on the eye screen..:)

  24. Writing poetry with puddles of ink on the ground. Wow. So many images in each line, but I love this one especially. Great ending, too. Lovely. .. And Happy New Year, Claudia.

  25. Inspirations for poems come from such random details — the last word spoken in a dream before awakening, a poetry prompt, a random encounter in a day, like here — amazing how much sings forth from those fragments, the ant become your giant that recedes as it approaches. Great work here drawing it out.

  26. Thuis is a very intriguing story – I love “each curl flute-charmed” and “i wanna write chunks of poetry
    with just the puddles
    they leave on the ground,” – such wonderfully rich writing, it makes me want more.

  27. Oh, read many times…first time run into ‘heavy rain
    spreads nets of dots across the pane’…
    ‘lips move with each planet
    that touches ground
    joining the path of pearls,
    dipped in an orb-black jar,’ ~ very spacy, over 3D…

    ~ wonderful painting, I can feel the perspective…
    …and this ‘flute charmed secret player’, where is he…

  28. I like your portrait of the woman here – very intriguing. How many stories can the mind conjure just by watching people? It takes imagination and sensitivity to see through the image that is being presented before the eyes.