Thank you for the suggestions. You’re right, I think, about the deletion and redundancy. Didn’t think it was important as to his identity, just a hot guy (ha ha). Thanks!
Poetry / THE EDGE OF FLIRTATION
Even now,
I try to picture your face in my mind,
Yet I cannot.
And, bending closer to serve your coffee, I wonder why have I not noticed
before today that your eyes shine the richest, deepest, chocolate brown?
I have been lost, distracted, and misdirected, and I would apologize, though, it’s
more than likely you have not noticed me in the way I have most recently and
absolutely without question, noticed you.
Encourage me,
Perhaps with only the smallest of smiles
Directed my way.
Speaking of which, I also ask why have I not noticed before
today that your smile shimmers on the edge of flirtation?
In all probability I was stranded on the moon, for what excuse could I possibly
use that would explain my lapse of clarity while in the presence of your
enveloping aura, your scent of woodsy nutmeg with a hint of ginger, the warm
masculinity of your hand surrounding mine as you shake me from my
self-imposed neglect.
Oh, dear. What a surprise.
I must breathe.
A task requiring deep concentration when you’re near,
Else I may faint.
Would that event not give you a clue as to my newfound, secret
feelings for you?
Yes, stirring feelings that have erupted from a previously unknown molten core
and left me aflame with desires more fitting of a wanton goddess of love resulting
in my current, wonderfully weakened state.
I’m reborn,
Soft and giddy to the point of popping,
Yet I shall not.
Am I not in control of my person, except, it seems, for the lack of feeling in my
legs, and a heart which has chosen to beat a wild, unsyncopated, jungle-like
rhythm?
As you walk towards me now it is uncomfortably evident that oxygen is not
reaching the higher atmosphere surrounding my brain. I shall, however, play the
distant, cool and aloof, mature female that I am until… what was that you said?
“Red is definitely your color.” Oh, sweet flattery! I smile and joyfully respond,
“Oh, really, thank—”, only to look down and realize I wear a black and beige
plaid jumper.
Even now,
I feel you brush past me and I turn to see
You approach her.
And I ask, how have I not noticed before today the uncanny physical development
of my cousin, the redhead in the voluptuously perky red dress standing barely
two meters behind me?
As I recoil to make my way unobtrusively back to the lukewarm cup of tea
waiting at the little table in the dusty corner of my very own café, I decide that I
will make a hasty return to the cold, calculated character necessary to oversee
operations of such a place of business. First however, I feel the overwhelming
need to be informed of current world events so I nonchalantly open the daily news
and discover I must feign interest as I am reminded again of the resolution I
promised to make on New Year’s Eve—
From now on, I shall remember to wear my glasses.
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Cute story, though I’m not sure that I would classify this as poetry, as it has the narrative flow of a short story.
I think everyone has had a moment like this at one point or another, so it certainly is relatable.
And yeah, I don’t think this requires the “Meant to be read tongue-in-cheek” disclaimer above. Anyone who reads it should be able to pick up its tone and humor with ease.
Nice work!
Semper
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I would delete
” after enjoying this little vignette of human folly” Let it speak for itself.
if you say “my cafe,” I think “self-owned” is redundant.
I enjoyed this although, I wasn’t too sure who the man was. I projected who I wanted it to be into the story. Not sure if you intended the reader to do this or not.
I liked this although I’d say its more like a very short story than a poem (there is far more narrative than there is imagery); and I liked the quirky conversationality of it. Some of the punctuation is out. I’d also change ‘ablaze with desire’ – its a teeny bit cliched.
I’ve reviewed a version of this before and find it equally funny now. I don’t know what you’ve changed, except that you must be struggling to find a perfect end to the fluffy, self-conscious sexuality of it all. This will surprise you, I think: maybe get rid of the cousin and the current ending entirely? What’s wrong with writing another poem about that, perhaps conceived as a poem in a poetry book to follow this one? I suspect the poem would end perfectly with the line, “black and blue jumper, well.” In any event, this is one review to protest against your current end. It’s not funny, or not as funny as the rest of this hilarious piece, and it ends the poem on anticlimax, appropriate for its theme, but less than memorable for the slap the knee whole of it all. i love it!
The use of wording is very sensual, vivid and fluid. The internal monologue in the character’s head is very humorous. I like the style it is written in. Not the typical format, more a story or prose form. Very entertaining.
I really love this. The structure of it is incredible. I especially like the end, as I’m sure everyone does. I would almost try to cut down on the length, without taking away from the effect, try getting the same feeling across in fewer words. You seem to be very good at this already. So maybe try the same with the longer stanzas.
You almost carried me from title straight through to resolution and I truly felt the edges of flirtation in all their disastrous effect. You are gifted at capturing the essence of secret desire.
There are just a few places where punctuation could be changed or lose a few words for fuller effect:
V6/line2 – “use that would explain” maybe (use to explain) and aura;
V9 – I think you can lose the comma after newfound b/c it seperates the adj from the noun.
“desires more fitting of a wanton goddess” – delete the of
“As I recoil to make my way” – or ‘as I recoil, making my way…
The last paragraph could use just a bit of editorial attention. It is the weightiest of the whole poem but seems to lack the thrust and consistency of character all the other verses command. Would you really feel unobtrusive as you walk back with chagrin? Are you really cold and calculating as the purveyor of a tea house?
I loved this, it definitely made me giggle, I think we can all understand every emotion in this as well.
The first stanza is common, yet appreciated. It sets the mood for the poem, and where the writer will be taking us.
In the second stanza, you do a good job of creating the setting and the tone for the rest of the piece.
For some reason, I really like the use of “distracted and misdirected” in the 3rd stanza. I, also, like the way the sentence flows together. Job well done.
I feel that “today” can be taken out of the fifth stanza, as it is a bit repetitive of “before.” When you say “why have I not noticed this before,” it already refers to the moments before now. Placing “today” behind it only distracts.
The 6th, 7th, and 8th stanza piece together nicely. The 8th stanza seems a bit cliche, though, and I feel you can re-create it in a more original way.
“Popping” in the 11th stanza seems out of place. It is too simple of a word compared to the diction throughout the rest of the poem. Attempt another choice, possibly?
12th stanza confuses me. It’s a bit messy, and causes me to not understand what is being said there. Though, that may just be me.
And, finally, the last line: I love it. Wonderful closing. It says what others may have said before, but it is unique to my eyes.
Overall, a good piece.
I like the ironic, bitter arc of the narrative, and the way you set it up with such moments as “oh dear, what a surprise” etc. I think the speaker’s voice is compelling too. Several moments seems to stick out for me. I like the “nutmeg” and “ginger” observation early on, partly because they are details that enhance the story’s poetic elements, but partly too because they seem new and fresh. A little later on, the speaker forwards the idea that she must have been “stranded on the moon.” This seems fun, and a little self-deprecating, and new too. I liked that moment a lot somehow as well as your notation of “jungle-like” rhythms later on and “wanton goddess of love.” At times your descriptors are not as fresh like “molton core,” but I suppose your readers can forgive you. My final thought is that I would like to see more of your fun, depreciating observations which really are the essence of the experience in this piece. I want to be in the “higher atmosphere surrounding” your speaker’s brain just a little bit more. It would accentuate the final, bitter effect of the story.
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