Faces in the milling throng
Memorable as Rorschach blotches;
Shape shifters alternating haut couture
To exude the humour of the day.
Pinned-striped papillons in polka dots
Sage ciphers of dissenterfolds
Crack dress codes everyone
Pretends were top-secret,
For her size only.
Crass is the new taste,
Vulgar shreds the freshest
Trend we style
Our empty lives buy.
Imagine Midas Dress!
Golden woven ovaries
Flush with tropical snow
Blind from womanshine
While recording odd disease –
Voyeurgers pose the queery:
“Wire wheel hive?”
Why indeed.
Author notes
Swoop down the cakewalk but mind you don´t slip on the Moss.
A Fashionable Rant Won´t Pay the Rent.
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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The Deadicated Followers of Fascion. Simon, it must not just be me that you are passing in the ether-- I just read Dave's piece, "Face-Off," about the cheapening of beauty with plastic surgery.
The Rorschach image is excellent-- the obvious implication is that, after a while, all of the dolls start to become indistinguishable. On the other hand, the ink blots are meant to determine what is on the mind of the viewer-- just as beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
I am enamored with the line, "pin-striped papillons"-- recently, I had toyed with the idea of using the word papillons, but rejected it as too flowery-- I am delighted that you not only use it, but in your inimitable way, dovetail it effortlessly into the piece.
"Dissenterfolds" is a sly juxtaposition, bringing to mind the more buxom, but decidedly seamier side of Seers-- models are prized for their faces, but there is very little above the neck on a bunny that would be of interest to the average hustler. But "crass is the new taste," there is no longer a division between tawdry and seductive.
"Golden woven ovaries"-- as so many others have already noted, is a striking image-- dare we cut open the gaggle of golden geese rather than wait patiently for her to lay?
"Tropical snow"-- it occurs to me that weather no longer has much bearing on what we wear. One can virtually go from home to work, from garage to garage, without really braving the elements, so bare legs, sandals, and spaghetti-strap tops have become year-round attire. Also, a lot of people really don't work jobs that require them to get dirty, so white has become a year-round color. Odd.
Wire wheel live? To spend then upend. The end.
Lauren
. Rewarded 8
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Cheers A Million, Celestial!
For a cool thoughtful comment/review. I´m sitting in a studio-cellar with a friend reminiscing on 2007 while I should be paying bills (luckily his homemade vino is assuaging my bad-conscience) and it struck me how much I have improved as a writer these past 1,5 years in litterary communion with eminent peers such as yourself, Lauren, at Swearpoetry. So first off may I express my gratitude for both your great poetry and your astute commentary throughout this, for me, defining period.
Ok. Many valuable takes on my homophonic scribble. Cheers.
Pinned lepidoptera, speaking as an avid (rabid?)animal-rights activist, is for me an epitomy of cruel beauty - supportive of the slant taken in this piece opining on on the negative aspects (who me?!) of a global faschion conscience.
"Tropical snow" is slang for cocaine but I must say YOUR take took this glib jibe to a new level. As btw your extrapolation of Dissenterfolds.
"the gaggle of golden geese" caught my underlying vibe - oh yeah.
Btw again, my "hook-project" of extreme suspension was forced into delay mode by the voiced qualms of my spouse and (somehow she found out!?) my mum! But I ll get back to it in due time when the coast is clear. As for Animus Pharm, it will be my next posting - a perfect apposite to Farmers Market - as soon as I can retrieve the bastard from a somnolent PC! Ah, don´t ask.
It does however represent an experiment in train of thought structural "flashes" of "overheard" snatches of a series of conversations depicted in a fluid stanza "stand-by-themselves" mosaic, attempting to illuminate issues of animal cruelty within the industry so wonderfully alluded to in your excellent Minotaurs´s Daughter, O Cerebral Celestial.
To a fortuitous New Annum for thee and thine, Lauren.
gG
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Memrabble Sewshall Commeant!
From pin-striped, fabric pinned like butterfies, to how many even know that polka dots do not dance? Sage ciphers--wise nonentities, antonyminal meanings...and the argumentative dissenterfolds to be ogled... (a real winner) a neologism with opposing meanings front and end...
Fashion, the acid in commentary: never has so much been crammed into so few words! Even by becomes buy to complete the splintered thought of meds as new threads. Why are we alive?
To feast on the punniest bankwet of malapropisms ever! Obviewously! It had me giggling all the way threw!
Thank you!
Terry
. Rewarded 8
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Cheers Again Terry!
As gaudy an ill-fitting collection of "inappropria" (now that should be a noun) as this ditty presents I must admit the social theme serves more as vehicle for wordplay than a moral exposé.
Voyeurgers might be a title I misuse later on.
Warmest regardez
gG
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Why don't you want me to see this poem?
I can not read it as it is so it is not for me. This must be te tenth time I have posted this same message under similar provocation. Even to friends. At least they used to be.
Yes I higlighted and copied it to notepad, and in due course might tell you why I enjoyed the double-entendres and infernal-contradictions, but not until I can also see what others have said.
Note, no points for this gripe please.
Hmmph!
With regret
Terry
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Hi Terry
I switched font hue from shock-pink to dark and thereby hope to facilitate your astute irises in their perusal of this unworthy piece.
Loftiest regards
gG
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It's more than a fashionable rant I would say and I like ranting poems
I have to be honest, some of this poem seemed beyond me. Regardless, I thought it was a really thoughtful piece. I was thrown off by the picture but I think I may be getting used to putting pictures with poems, it almost set too much of a mood, is there some way to put it at the end? I really like line 3 and the last line.. Rewarded 6
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Interesting
thoughts concerning images accompanying words, Stellaella. Mine have often been (rightly!) accused of prejudicing interpretations as to what obscure fancies lie behind the write.
Its the price to be payed I m afraid. As for me personally I enjoy squeezing every possible medium available to sate creative and subversive appetites including authors notes, category, the question thingy and replies to comments if the opportunity arises for puerile banter or sagacious wordcraftiness.
Placing image at the end might well prove conducive to unpolluted perusal of a poem especially if the pic is a powerful portrayal yet covers only one aspect of poems that often attempt to function on more than one level of perception according to the precepts I strive to follow within alchemical hermeticism.
Thank you for your kind words.
Cheers
imagGe
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Your verses are very strong as usual and the use of the picture lends well to the text. I think your take on the fashion industry and its shallow obsession with the fleeting 'face' of beauty (can there be only one representation of beauty) is well expressed. The issue of being slaves to fashion was intriguing. the 'golden woven ovaries' line is striking. I assume that you will accept that there are men (many designers for women are men), who are equally obsessed with fashion. Tis not just a female lure??!!
Loved the poem and thought the picture complimented the writing.
. Rewarded 8
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Quite Agree Adorasmum.
The so-called "metro" generation of young males take personal hygiene most seriously - which is a good thing compared to cromagnon armpits reeking ordure within a miasma-cloud of pungent odours wafting on a foul breeze of beer, sweat, smoke and diesel oil. They ve taken the cosmetics industry by storm and the sums used on such products are astronomical posing ethical quandries for the few who are so inclined. Indeed as I mentioned below 17th century wig-wearing fops were far vainer it seemed than their female counterparts.
Thanx for your kind words adorasmum.
Regards
gG
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Gah, normally your use of language is amazing, but this was a veritable assault of wordplay reference of imagery. If it wasn't so good I'd be complaining, just because it almost pulls the reader down, clinging to him so he almost can't breathe, hehe. In a good way though.
I like the way you start off painting a picture of the people you're observing. The reference to Rorscach blotches I think is superb, because it not only serves the main purpose of the line, but also has a suggestion of the way in which you can be looking at a crowd and half see faces of people you know in the rushing unfamilliar features
Can I give you a gold star for dissenterfolds? hehe. Although I think "Golden woven ovaries" kinda takes the prize. It's odd in a way, because almost invariably in the wild, it's male animals who have impressive crests and plumage. All the males jumping up and down going "Yes, look at me, manly and virile". It's an odd inversion that it's women dressing flaunting their golden woven ovaries, so.
I did read a bit of an amusing article the other day which said that a woman's swinging hips when she walks is in fact an u nconscious biological sign saying "Look at my child-bearing hips". Which, in conjunction with your poem, puts an interesting new spin on catwalks.
I really like the wordplay on "Wire wheel hive", but... I didn't particularly *get* it. I get the question behind it, but wire wheel? hive? My mind clutches at straws and partly thinks about those metal hoops women used to have round the bottom of their skirts, but other than that... You'll have to fill me in.
I also like that your comment implicitly makes kate Moss somethng slippery on the floor.
Chris, x
. Rewarded 8
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Graced
by your positive comment Iorek. Your eye for my quirks and twists both in wordplay and the deeper issues I struggle to convey is sharply proficient and most edifying as feedback could possibly be.
The sense of suffocation fits with the often constricting forms fashion consciousness demands primerily of women.
Interesting point raised concerning the male/female roles in our society as opposed to nature. A good subject for a poem (I couldn t help thinking of your Penguins Ball and their fowl formal attire - will review it soon).
Back in the 16/17 th centuries roles were partially reversed among the affluent undoubtedly with wigs, perfume (though folks still stank like buggery!) and wincing ways of foppish demeanour.
Military vanity and pathological status/ranking pomp is one area where a closet design guru can still express himself - "Now what goes well with bloodred and khaki?" or "My medals are shinier than yours you potential-rival-bastard you!"
As Worthy Plumeister mentioned WireWheelHive denotes further aspects of "fashism" that was fortunate to match the image depicting those awful accessories clasping necks and shins of the two divas.
Strapped to the wheel - trapped by society´s norms that roll on regardless.
Hive as Al said fits both the look of the rings and uniform society buzzing with bullshit (and beehive hair-dos).
Btw tropical snow just in case you weren t aware is cocaine - the great slimmer and anorexia´s bosom buddy. "Cakewalk" in Authors Notes refers (or should I say reefers..) to the same.
Warmest regards Iorek.
gG-strings this season will be mainly velcro....
Wire - -
Hey Iorek,
I hate to butt in here, but as far as I understood it, the "wire wheel hive" refers to the wire wheels wrapped around the above-pictured women's legs and necks. Conjoined together in vertical succession they do kinda look like a bee-hive. Also, I thought that perhaps the hive thing referred to the communal, socialist feel of fashist, err, I mean fashion obedience in order to please the communal order of fashion things, as in women are drones to fashion.
Anyway, I know you weren't asking me, but that was my take on the matter. Don't know if it's correct but it seemed to make sense.
Al -
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Thanx Mr P!
For clarity assistance. Yeah I was lucky with the picture and main homophone. Have to admit I didn t become properly aware of the perfect matchup before posting this here but as is unusual for me the last three writes I ve submitted to the judgement of my peers have been written and posted the same day.
Great pic of your emminent self and son btw, Plumeister.
gG -
*hits himself on the head with a poetry book*
I really should pay more attention to the images people upload with their poetry. I get so used to pictures of bloodstained roses accompanying angst-ridden musings that I forget to pay attention when a rather thoughtful and considered poet adds one, lol.
Merci!
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Why are we alive?
It's all about sex. Period.
In the animal kingdom, particularly birds, displays of plumage attract attention in order to garner a mate. Clothes are the plumage of homo-erectus, and we use them with reckless abandon, often to other's chagrin. People, particularly women, maim themselves for fashion. All for the purpose of attracting a mate. Because it all revolves around sex, or the act of procreation and mating. Procreation, that's why we're alive, or "Wire wheel hive", a clever tie in to your picture and how this particular culture maims it own women for "plumage". When it comes to fashion, we create to procreate. Plumage, my friend, it's all about the plumage. I am often amused at just how not so far removed from animals we are.
That's what I got out of it, gG. Clue me in if I'm off, please.
Al
p.s. Oh and the author notes? A clever play on anorexic model, Kate Moss. Women wrongly think that's what men want because that's what the fashion magazines portray, which is really funny. And do you know why the fashion mags push this business model? Because size 0 is all but unattainable for the average woman unless she is half-dead. So the average woman buys with rose-colored dollars hoping to emulate fashion anorexia. The woman has a complete wardrobe set for every weight plateau she hits. She drops a few pounds, her clothes don't fit. She must buy more. But damn, upon looking in that mirror she still doesn't look like Kate Moss. She lapses into depression, spies the ad for Dove bars, or hagen daas ice-cream in her Woman's Day magazine and goes on a binge. Damn, wardrobe no longer fits, must buy more. Women's fashion mags are the biggest crock aimed at fleecing women's pocket-books. The saddest thing ever? They did a survey and showed men various women's body types. Who picked kate moss types? Nobody. What they determined was that men just like an hourglass shape and pounds were immaterial. And why does the man like an hourglass shape? Again, we go right back to procreation of the species. Wide hips signify good baby carrying and birthing capacity, and a large top half signifies good suckling capacity. All in the ingrained interests of proliferation of the species.
Sorry for the diatribe, but you got me on one and I couldn't stop. You got me thinking, Simon; and I always like that. It's good to have you back about this place...
. Rewarded 8
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To the Plumagician!
As ever a most interesting comment to grace my page, Al. Plumage. Yes indeed. I think you are spot on with both interp and your more general analysis of the lack of fashion "conscience" prevailing and assailing women at every single level of our CONsummer society. I mean where can they glean respite?! Images of rakes or porn-star prodigies abound ´pon every billboard. Thanx for spotting the Kate Moss quip Al. What a pathetic role-model. Not her fault necessarily, but the rabid media squeezing a cash-cow. Nothing like a bit of notoriety to billow the bank account.
Your take on fashist fashion mags was also on the money, mate. Propogators of commercial anorexia for sure. I ve read somewhere that models are so thin because being mostly gay, the fashion designers wish them to emulate young boys. Who knows? But its women who buy the styles. What a twisted world.
Cheers Al
gG
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I may have to revoke your license to quill Mr.Bond....
I gather from this you feel roughly the same about designer labels and contemporary infatuation with all things flash and shallow as I do.
"crack dress codes everyone" or so the fashion gurus would have us believe.
"For your size only" - James would explain it all to me, I know - but then he'd have to kill me.
My own thoughts on this are contained in 'Sex in an Alleyway'. Can't recall if you commented but hope you might revisit it.
This is subtle, punchy and witty. I'd expect no less! I'm off to polish my wire wheels and contemplate the Unipurse! x >W<
. Rewarded 8
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Suits You Sir!
Heheh. Cheers Windhover and ditto to you the compliment I payed Lad below. As always I am blessed by the patience and acumen of my tolerant peers in perusing my hype of cant. I had fun with this John. Both this and Words Clothe... were written from semi-worthless drafts revamped and given a complete makeover to appear 10 years younger (hangon that makes no sense!). Between you yourself, Plumeister and Lad have needle-in-the-eyed most of the quips and homophones with My Distress and Odysseys excepted or you probably did spot them and couldn t be bothered to mention it. Where am I going with this though, John. Is it poetry or fucking Suduko! (Hmm I might get to be big in Japan!)
Oh did you see my collaborator? Reckon you re part of the airfix generation aren t you?
gG-string
PS. Will check Sex in an Alleyway. pretty sure I ve read it.
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Yep, why ARE we alive, after all? Why the current descent into "vulgar" and "crass" and ultimately "empty"? Even a curmudgeonly, out-of-it "voyeurger" like me wants to know!
This intricately costumed poem, Simon, reflects what I, too, am forced to see all around me: wannabe beauties who believe that whatever trash they touch to wear turns to gold. Oh Midas, where the hell are you now when we need you to show us what REAL gladrags are made of?!
While I hate the fashion scene I see, I like the sheen this poet breathes.
Good one!
Lad. Rewarded 8
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Cheers Lad!
Blimey you and Windhover are exceedingly quick off the mark I must say! No wonder you two are without doubt the Kings of Commentary here at Sharepo. I am far far slower and nowhere near as prolific. I thought I d post a relatively straight forward ditty, Lad to spare my worthy peers my penchant for "hype of cant" for once but in the final preproduction stitching a few homophones and whatnot did slip into something more comfortable. You can imagine My Distress when I discovered the addled Odyssey I´d concocted. Tis a pity I can t turn all my shit to gold but as I recall old Midas himself soon found that ability to be uniformly tedious. Thanx again!
Warmest Winter Season Regards
gG
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