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greatpoetry2010-11-05 03:38 am
thefairyreel.livejournal.com) wrote in greatpoetry2010-11-05 03:38 am
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Friends' Photos by Ruth Fainlight
We all looked like goddesses
and gods, glowing and smooth, sheathed
from head to foot by a golden essence
that glistens and refracted its aura
of power- the wonderful ichor called youth.
We moved as easily as dolphins
surging out of the ocean,
cleaving massed tons of transparent water
streaming away in swathes of bubbling
Silver like the plasm of life.
Still potent from those black and white
photos, the palpable electric
charge between us, like the negative
and positive poles of a battery,
or the fingers of Adam and God.
We were beautiful, without exception.
I could hardly bear to look at those
old albums, to see the lost glamour
we never noticed when we were
first together- when we were young.
and a request - could anybody recommend poems on advertising, status, consumerism or youth culture? am writing a paper for a module on interpreting consumerism and am trying to cast a wide net to find something I'm interested in to work with. Thank you in advance!
and gods, glowing and smooth, sheathed
from head to foot by a golden essence
that glistens and refracted its aura
of power- the wonderful ichor called youth.
We moved as easily as dolphins
surging out of the ocean,
cleaving massed tons of transparent water
streaming away in swathes of bubbling
Silver like the plasm of life.
Still potent from those black and white
photos, the palpable electric
charge between us, like the negative
and positive poles of a battery,
or the fingers of Adam and God.
We were beautiful, without exception.
I could hardly bear to look at those
old albums, to see the lost glamour
we never noticed when we were
first together- when we were young.
and a request - could anybody recommend poems on advertising, status, consumerism or youth culture? am writing a paper for a module on interpreting consumerism and am trying to cast a wide net to find something I'm interested in to work with. Thank you in advance!
also, this one
by Tony Hoagland
Tony Hoagland
Just past the bin of pastel baby socks and underwear,
there are some 49-dollar Chinese-made TVs;
one of them singing news about a far-off war,
one comparing the breast size of an actress from Hollywood
to the breast size of an actress from Bollywood.
And here is my niece Lucinda,
who is nine and a true daughter of Texas,
who has developed the flounce of a pedigreed blonde
and declares that her favorite sport is shopping.
Today is the day she embarks upon her journey,
swinging a credit card like a scythe
through the meadows of golden merchandise.
Today is the day she stops looking at faces,
and starts assessing the labels of purses;
So let it begin. Let her be dipped in the dazzling bounty
and raised and wrung out again and again.
And let us watch.
As the gods in olden stories
turned mortals into laurel trees and crows
to teach them some kind of lesson,
so we were turned into Americans
to learn something about loneliness.