Penelope

Dear Beautiful Girl,
You who was seen but seconds,
caught glimpses and glances
that do little to fulfil the
aching and deepening hole,
the size of an ocean
that gets deeper still.
You are not like the sunset,
that penetrates the sorrowed
landscape with beams of fire
and soft melting rays...
You are not like the morning,
the smell of cut grass and
wind bristling the trees...
You are not like a lake,
or some will say a well,
to quench parched hearts
and satisfy our thirst...
You are certainly not the answer,
and you never will be.  

Let me tell what you are.
You are a dream, or a thought,
caught in a manmade, created
plastic bubble or warehouse,
a place to buy freeze dried
glamour and packaged looks,
You are a ready-made wonder
that we pick out of shelves
to look at (and put back,
if past it's sell by date)
You are a marketing heaven,
An incredible smile for
a poster or two with an
action man hubby who says
that he loves you, loving
the skin, the look, the
shades and the dress,
maybe the hair that flows
like a glowing river
from the heights of the
mountain to the -

You are a mess, terminally
distressed by a thunderous
demand to be caught in
a checkout, bleeped through
like a product, the most
sought after software
or human add-on from
someone or something,
happening... to me...
 
I don't know who you
are, only what I see
as I peek through
the lines of tins and
cans, trying to find
something to rely on;
And it's certainly
not you, Penelope.

Reviews

[Kathryn]

I don't know why it's taken me this long to review this piece.
I love it. I feel like I sound so redundant saying that about almost everything you write. This descent is perfectly crafted with such thought and care. Your piece is shaped (both literally and figuratively) like a dagger that gets thrusted into life, Penelope, the reader in the end. It's colorful and dripping with inspiration. Really excellent. I'm glad to know you as a poet.

[All out of words]

I really love this.
I especially like the last stanza. Something about it is really striking, and it sums up the whole poem really nicely.

[wolfshrew]

the more i read this the more i really started to love it

[Jimmy Greenie]

nice, a bit odd. But still good