20 April 2012

Gunmetal Gray

There’s beauty like a woman,
Like calves and thighs,
Lips and breasts.

Or beauty like a rhythm
Percussed across Spanish guitar strings.

There’s brush-stroked beauty,
Understood only by the paints
And the eye.

Then there’s gunmetal gray.
Rifled grooves.
Hollowed points.
Angry beauty.
Touching her trigger
Loading her cartridge.
Staring down the barrel
At the devil's lovely gaze.


 I needed something for day 20. I rushed this, but I really think parts of it have some merit.

11 comments:

  1. Wow, so many layers in this poem~
    Great imagery
    Kind of scary and beautiful

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    1. Thanks, Ella. This was really a rush job. I'm glad you think it's ok.

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  2. Really loved this. Unapologetic, describing one of the many range of emotions that make us all different from each other.
    Fantastic.
    At first I was turned of by the title "Gunmetal Gray" because it is one of the all too common poetry-colors which says "Look, I'm writing poetry." But you used it perfectly for me.
    Thanx

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    Replies
    1. I'm glad the title didn't stop you from reading it!
      Thanks.

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  3. I'm left speechless ... amazing.

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  4. Your juxtaposition of traditional notions of beauty and the attributes of gunmetal gray take the reference completely out of the flow of ordinary. Well done.

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  5. Many have a hard time describing even one permutation of beauty...you've nicely covered four...

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  6. Thanks. I think the Spanish guitar "permutation" needs a little work or maybe an omission. But I am glad you like them all!

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  7. Very nicely done if this was a rush job. I really like all the imagery!

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