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Girl in a Lake

over somnolent eyes the full moon cast luminous shadows

of shifting cloud swan path shafting seductive to the shore

where she dropped her clothes by the stony shallows and

entered liquid light on jewelled feet icy lustrous pale arms

uplifted wide eyes of unwavering clarity gleaming she sank

to her knees in the bitter midnight water open palms thrust

upward reaching offering asking sweet scented vines tumbled

heavy over white breasts mellow blossoms shining in moonlight

dark eyes fixed the blinding moon a black mass mounted the

shuddering lake invisible leaves slipped into gobbling waves

like drooling tongues licking snatching at her lovely nakedness

shoving silken thighs against hunched rocks aghast she reared

from their suckling mouths and stumbled to the shore where

trembling uncontrollably she folded her clothes over her mind

 

 

 

 

 

 

🌷(4)

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Comments

<Deleted User> (17552)

Fri 2nd Jun 2017 14:59

The last line gets to me, how exactly do you mean it? I really like the style of this poem, it's captivating in a sense of wonder and odd uniformity (but also different).

Love the assonance (is that what it's called?), and I really think highly of the consistency in your writing.

What was the purpose of the poem though? If I had to guess it was to demonstrate the beauty of emotional nackedness and the shame of it? Maybe that's just the meaning I drew.

Frances Macaulay Forde

Mon 10th Apr 2017 03:10

Good decision. It's vital to know your voice, to find the version you like and stick to it... often we get distracted by 'rules' and loose our authenticity.
Well said, Cynthia.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Sat 8th Apr 2017 18:16

With many thanks to excellent ideas for changes. I totally take your points. But I have decided that I will leave this work basically as it is.

After much consideration, I understand that I do not want 'clarity' or 'precision' because there is nothing clear or precise about the situation. Nor do I want specific images that can be isolated from the whole, because each thought/observation/reaction bleeds together to 'be' the whole. They cannot exist separately in a straight line. It's not everyone's 'thing'; but this time, it's 'my thing', written in circles, convolutions, frontwards, backwards, exactly as I want. Relationships of words flow throughout. Not everything in life can be 'pinned down' to logic.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Wed 5th Apr 2017 12:17

Thank you, to you all. Private notes most gratefully received, and I shall study them carefully.

Frances Macaulay Forde

Wed 5th Apr 2017 04:19

I very much like the idea, the descriptions and ethereal mood. But I it still needs a little work to clarify those images and the intent of the writer.
Please remember this short critique is offered with the best of intentions. So:
Personally, I find the use of 'bold' typeface intimidating, which distracts from the (I believe) intended mood, also the long lines which seem to break quite naturally (mostly in the middle) into two.
My suggestions for you to consider, or not:
The first three words 'over somnolent eyes' seems superfluous, I think the poem starts with 'The full moon...'
Likewise 'swan path', 'where' etc.
If you like, I'm very happy to send an edited version privately.
?

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Trevor Alexander

Tue 4th Apr 2017 23:45

I really like this, but find it quite difficult to define why. It is quite sensuous, with (for me) hints of an almost 'stream of consciousness' feel to it, and yet some wonderful imagery within it.

Thanks for sharing this.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Tue 4th Apr 2017 20:02

I was reminded of Elvis Costello's 'Watching the Detectives' - link below with lyrics. Your last line had me thinking of his: 'it only took my little fingers to blow you away'.

Both stories have a threatening feel and heady atmosphere and although not that similar in theme and content it is where my mind wandered. Perhaps a touch of the Gothic in yours Cynthia which I very much like. Good to hear that song again too. All the best, Colin.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xO_sDtI2bYk

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raypool

Tue 4th Apr 2017 19:15

A profusion of illusion all a dream, is she a mermaid or not what she may seem? I find the sensuality of it very appealing and dare I say stimulating? It feels like an invasion of innocence by the "black mass". Not sure what that line represents but it seems pivotal to the poem!

Persuasive stuff Cynthia.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 4th Apr 2017 17:03

Wrote this a zillion (almost) years ago. Not satisfied with it yet; but I still find it interesting to work on.

Comments of any tenor would be taken aboard and considered. Maybe I could throw all the words individually into a pot and select at random, or scatter them around with a leaf blower, and spear them erratically with a trash stick. Now that's a thought or two!

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