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Array
(
[sid] => 115245
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Working Girls
[time] => 2006-02-23 03:09:20
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] =>
All jaded airs and faded graces
out of daylong hibernation they emerge
to saunter down Andover Street swivel-hipped
high heels clacking on cobblestone
where once my Fore Fathers strode...
...beating out some staccato come-hither beat-
mascaraed eyes alert for evening commerce
lashes dark and lustrous and not their own
laquered hair piled in perilous pyramids
that some incautious jon might, in a soft moment''s touch
pull fingers away.. stung, as from barbed wire.
They are an error of chronological order
by which their experiences are misplaced in regard to each other
had they words to frame the thought-
they'd be too tired to care;
for the need that drives them down such mean ways
is never outdated.
Men with hunted-rabbit faces
married past recollections of slighter freedoms
teetering with sick qualms into tepid middleage,
ogle them into 'no-tell motels'..
their brood hen wives sipping chardonay
moistly enmeshed in home truths and grandchildren
college funds and bake sales... weekly book club meetings.
Cracking, their rouged powdered cheek
flutters a moment in the musty air
and falls to grief into the soiled and deep pile carpet-
midway between them and those stout agricultural wallets
stricken across a minefield of thigh high boots
and soggy cigarette ends..
Nobody sees them home save the stars..
and the mangy mutt yapping and nipping at their ankles
frantic for want of a scathing slurred word
out of their twisted red mouths-
Cursing they lunge into the wailing night
raw twigs and thorns tugging at their ancient fur jackets...
Turning the key in the door
they kick out the world of tight pockets
and tighter mercies..
To the sheetless bed they stumble
numb hands stretched and wrapped around themselves,
huddled in some darkened corner,
to catch the last of heat from the only fire left within them..
but finally, the embers die and they are left alone.
WK Copyright 2006
[comments] => 7
[counter] => 386
[topic] => 29
[informant] => Man_On_High
[notes] =>
[ihome] => 0
[alanguage] => english
[acomm] => 0
[haspoll] => 0
[pollID] => 0
[score] => 10
[ratings] => 2
[editpoem] => 1
[associated] =>
[topicname] => PetPoems
)
Working Girls
Contributed by
Man_On_High
on
Thursday, 23rd February 2006 @ 03:09:20 AM in AEST
Topic:
PetPoems
|
All jaded airs and faded graces
out of daylong hibernation they emerge
to saunter down Andover Street swivel-hipped
high heels clacking on cobblestone
where once my Fore Fathers strode...
...beating out some staccato come-hither beat-
mascaraed eyes alert for evening commerce
lashes dark and lustrous and not their own
laquered hair piled in perilous pyramids
that some incautious jon might, in a soft moment''s touch
pull fingers away.. stung, as from barbed wire.
They are an error of chronological order
by which their experiences are misplaced in regard to each other
had they words to frame the thought-
they'd be too tired to care;
for the need that drives them down such mean ways
is never outdated.
Men with hunted-rabbit faces
married past recollections of slighter freedoms
teetering with sick qualms into tepid middleage,
ogle them into 'no-tell motels'..
their brood hen wives sipping chardonay
moistly enmeshed in home truths and grandchildren
college funds and bake sales... weekly book club meetings.
Cracking, their rouged powdered cheek
flutters a moment in the musty air
and falls to grief into the soiled and deep pile carpet-
midway between them and those stout agricultural wallets
stricken across a minefield of thigh high boots
and soggy cigarette ends..
Nobody sees them home save the stars..
and the mangy mutt yapping and nipping at their ankles
frantic for want of a scathing slurred word
out of their twisted red mouths-
Cursing they lunge into the wailing night
raw twigs and thorns tugging at their ancient fur jackets...
Turning the key in the door
they kick out the world of tight pockets
and tighter mercies..
To the sheetless bed they stumble
numb hands stretched and wrapped around themselves,
huddled in some darkened corner,
to catch the last of heat from the only fire left within them..
but finally, the embers die and they are left alone.
WK Copyright 2006
Copyright ©
Man_On_High
... [
2006-02-23 03:09:20]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 23rd February 2006 @ 03:54:59 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
wow.
Not the usual type of pet. *chuckles lightly*... a pet of different kind!
Regardless...this was so fine in detail, intricately portrayed, picturesque-lucid-imagery. The images in my mind seemed caricatured. An interesting choice of words.
Some things continue relentlessly in this world....This, im sure, will survive many more years to come, sadly.
This is an awesome write.
Well expressed, fluent, talented.
All my praise. |
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_K on
Thursday, 23rd February 2006 @ 06:06:25 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
"What Romaticist said"... No seriously, it was all that and more..... You are so very talented!!
Jenni |
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by ButchHoward on
Thursday, 23rd February 2006 @ 05:30:15 PM AEST
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Info | Send
a Message)
|
Outstanding work! It shines the harsh light of reality onto the worlds oldest profession. The imagery is powerful and creative.
Butch |
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Thursday, 23rd February 2006 @ 08:08:16 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Dear Billy ... I am stunned --
honestly and quite literally.
I would say this was a work of fine art, were I not moved into some
other emotion that leaves me feeling a bit silent here. [ Not to
mention slightly inarticulate ]. Stilled and saddened beyond.
Especially this ...
"they kick out the world of tight pockets
and tighter mercies.."
Oh my yes! How positively forlorn. (and I daresay, 'working girls'
are not the only ones privy to this emotion).
Gosh, I know this is all beginning to sound so painfully redundant,
but I can't emphasize enough how this moved me. My heart
tightens in empathy. Well, done my friend. Very well done!
~Breezy
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on
Friday, 24th February 2006 @ 03:30:09 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| You see those who look like working girls.. true stereotypes.. never ever judge.. your neighbor.. even that rich billionaire who lives down the street could be a working girl who has a top class job as some government official.. I was young when I first became a teacher.. I really learned a lot about people.. a few students came to class beautifully dressed.. very intelligent beings.. day life.. night life.. well, I think you get my point.. you can look at certain people and say, oh she or he looks as if they... but how well do you know the well dressed and intelligent person, and what do they do.. sadness overwhelming things people do trying to get ahead.. many poems written on subject.. trust in Him who feeds and takes care of those little birdies.. He is the way.. raquelLeah |
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by Eternal_Dreamer on
Friday, 24th February 2006 @ 06:18:23 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
~*Billy*~
What can I add to what's already been said by their 3 very highly intelligent and talented ladies,
Nat, Roxie and Raquel.
A true moving piece of poetry. Not that I expected anything less from u ~*Billy*~
One can't not venture past ur pages dearest ~*Billy*~ without stopping to read it's remarkable contents. Well done my friend.
*with love and big heartfelt hugs for u*
~sue~ |
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Re: Working Girls
(User Rating: 1 )
by wizard on
Tuesday, 28th February 2006 @ 02:24:08 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
bro, another great write..of course.
i hate to sound so repetitive, but as you know...i never know quite what to say.
the working girl..one man's god, another man's devil.
wiz |
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