Poetry 'n Prose

The Genuine Article

Faster than a speeding bullet

A lie; that I know anything

becomes a truth taken

For granted

I was chewing over this

As she heaved in

And heaved down

A mousy haired dangly


Olive green sweatered

Brown and white

Chequered knee length

Trousered dirty walkin’

Booted woman

And when she dropped

Some french fries

On the crowded fast food

House floor her inviting mouth

Said “shit!”

With strength to startle

Diners chewing

Five tables away

And as we all collected

Light and life

Through cost effected molecules

Of optimised weight

And measured air

She caught me staring

Jesus Christ!

Another fucking nutter!

And as the flying saucer

Hambuger shape hovered

Forgotten in my hand

Unconsciously and

Regrettably I broke off

The endless stare

And neither of us smiled

We didn’t need to

Match each other

With this daily ritual

And I,

In that downtown diner

In a somewhere – nowhere

Sort of way,

Really liked her

So much that

She reminded me

Of you.

By 67paintings

A dialectical site of poetry, painting and the odd musical excursion into the unknown.

8 replies on “The Genuine Article”

Somehow I missed this one, even though it’s right on top of the main page. This one reminds me of something that is probably completely unrelated to what you had in min!

Unlikely :)
Since what I thought about from reading this was because of a personal experience recently. It created a certain mental picture in my mind about that.

I replied to your email btw, hope you have seen it.. I’m curious about who you are as you said we have common facebook friends and of course because the poems here are beautiful and something I can relate to

Not managed to go to fb I’m having an issue with connection to my account. Which is annoying cause I wanr ro check out you art work / writing. Grrrr computors!

Ok, no worries. I can add you if you email me your name. I returned to FB recently after closing down my previous account due to some bad experiences, so will be re-posting art and poetry that I’ve collected on it, and if I find some confidence, I’ll post my own work, too. For some reason I feel very embarrassed about posting my own stuff, especially the written work because it gets too emotional at times. I used to paint a lot and paint out photographs that I liked and then send them as cards; hope to get back to doing that soon, it’s extremely relaxing.

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