Carol didn't have the elegance or the charming smile
of beautiful Mona Lisa...although being much younger;
perhaps she wasn't the wife of a wealthy man?
Considering her modest dress made of white
cotton, lighter than clouds on a resplendent day of summer;
what made her look a bit too melancholic was her wide frown.
The blank, somber look seemed to delve into a deeper sadness,
she must have been very surprised by her indissoluble surliness;
Robinson painted it in nineteen fifteen when the First World War
broke out, so her mood dipicted that event thinking of her soldier.
A bright background still couldn't make a favorable contrast
with a face that wandered far and seemed completely lost,
but he completed it despite the uncertainty of the response,
he realized that red cheeks replaced the absence of essence.
Entered in Debbie Gucci's contest,
" Ten Picture, Ten Poems, Ten Poets, Ten Days "
Written on 1/ 7/ 2016
Poem # 2
Categories:
surliness, art, dark, girl, sad,
Form: Rhyme
Awoken by the relentless noise
of the pelting raindrops,
frightened by the gusts
of the bending treetops,
I face an uncertain day that can't offer
any sweetness other than bitterness as my dose;
a low spirit like mine needs another powerful prayer!
Don't anxieties, swollen as clouds,
pathetically reflect a sad image...
as they let wishes slip away by leaving doubts
in a heart aching with loneliness and rage?
Shouldn't my day be indulgent and bright
without worries burdening this unhappy mind?
But rain adds to the surliness by hiding its light...
lovely would be a sunbeam and a cheerful sound!
Categories:
surliness, day, rain, sad,
Form: Rhyme
If hadn't been for the chill
which made me peak outside,
I could have missed out on the thrill
of seeing a landscape covered in white.
Far beyond the virgin, silent forest
of firs, oaks, spruces and maples...
grotesque pine trees stand at the entrance
as snowflakes weave a soft blanket.
Unhappy bluebirds find no melodies...
as they did in the previous seasons;
even flying is very risky, if not boring, as they land on icy logs,
and instead of doing many miles, they limit themselves to yards.
At high noon, sunlight doesn't bring relief to trees that easily break
as their very heavy branches drip from the thick snow which freezes
like teardrops, instantly turning them into sharp, glistening icicles...
ah, winter's surliness may seem unpleasant staring at an icy lake!
It's warm and cozy being protected by four walls of sturdy bricks,
sipping hot chocolate and watching those, thick shards of ice
suddenly crumple, making the soaked squirrels scram in surprise...
o sweet serendipity, should I go to bed and miss out on winter's tricks?
Categories:
surliness, animals, inspirational, nature, seasons,
Form: Rhyme
When he made
his first personal appearance
in the dirty alley
on someone else's rusty bike,
screaming along
in a cloud of dust
it rendered us all
speechless and motionless.
But I was amazed
that despite his grey-faced surliness,
he was very affable with us...
the bully with a naive
and sentimental heart.
He was so happy
to hear that I liked his dad
or that my mum liked him
and he was welcome
to come to tea
with us at five twenty five...
Our "adventures" were spectacular:
chasing after other bikesters,
screaming at the top
of our lungs
into blocks of flats
and then running
as our echoed waves of terror
blended with incoherent threats...
"I'll call the Police, I'll..."
Wicked cahoots.
("Wicked Cahoots" and "The Woodville Hall Soul Boys" stem from stories written in the late 1970s; while they first saw the light of day in versified form in 2006.)
Categories:
surliness, childhood, children, london, memory,
Form: Free verse
Buried beneath the
Asphalt of soul,
Catapulted beneath sterile
Visages, where only the nothingness
Emerges,
Mocking hands of surliness,
Now drowning in the void of
Their ignorance,
As life slowly flinches and fades...
Buried beneath the asphalt of
Soul, yet read on the pedestals
Of all
The ones who add meaning
To life...
Gone from the sight of deceiving
Eyes, yet fundamental for
Those who seek for value,
All
Written on arcane pedestals,
Buried beneath the asphalt of soul...
Everything achieved in life will no longer last at the end,
but the value created by these achievements is
immortal for recreation...
Inspired by poem: "Ozymandias"
Poet: Shelly
Categories:
surliness, inspirational, introspection, life, mystery,
Form: Free verse