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    Parker Owens
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Disasters, Delights and Other Detours - 8. Fugue in a minor key

The clouds of November are moving in. Cold and rain are working their icy fingers into the ground. Errors herein are all mine, of course.

Fugue in a Minor Key

I fit
no simple frame,
I have no pigeonhole,
no snug category in which
to thrive;
too weak
for submission's obedience, That face:
too old for attraction, those distant eyes -
and far too strange how could one not see them?
for love. They looked as though they could see right
through me;
I saw
He searched. a lifetime's worth of sorrows there,
out my spirit; sadness mixed with yearning
I felt him try my doors or possibly
and peer furtively in at my murder.
windows;
what could
he possibly expect to see Embers
but clutter and old books. glowed dark and red
scattered across. like live gems on the hearth,
my soul? a meal of half-eaten joy sat
waiting;
I saw
his dry, ruined dish, now empty,
and wondered what alarm
made him leave it
behind.

If you have a thought or a clamor, leave it here. I'll find it.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Wow... this is a very powerful piece, Parker.  I had to read it several times, not because I didn't understand, but because it was so good.  I understand it all too well, I'm afraid.  I love the dichotomy.  The line that sticks out to me the most is "sadness mixed with yearning, or possibly murder".  I think this is one of your best works.  :worship:  Well done, my friend.  :hug::kiss: 

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Thank you, @Valkyrie, for your very kind thoughts. It is not an easy piece,  for the kind of interplay of thoughts and emotions were hard to convey completely. What is saddening is that so many of us understand this as well as we seem to do. But I am glad that it called you to read and then re-read it. Hugs back....

Edited by Parker Owens
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Riveting , disturbingly so, left with the same hollow , nervous anticipation that follows reading some of Sylvia Plath’s or Dorothy Parker’s poems . The words feel like they’re sitting right on your skin , it’s that close to home. 

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4 hours ago, deville said:

Riveting , disturbingly so, left with the same hollow , nervous anticipation that follows reading some of Sylvia Plath’s or Dorothy Parker’s poems . The words feel like they’re sitting right on your skin , it’s that close to home. 

 

I am glad you found this interesting. Your comparison made me shiver. I very much enjoy Dorothy Parker. Your metaphor for words sitting on the skin made me twitch. It's very engaging. Thank you for thinking about this one, and for your very kind remarks. 

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Wow! This took my breath away. Stunning. It's so complex, the stories you tell in each stanza (can I call them stanzas?) It's like reading several stories at once, and you pull out a different emotion for each. And the way it all blended together. This is a poem that I will have to come back to. Thank you for taking me on that journey :heart: .

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10 hours ago, BDANR said:

Wow! This took my breath away. Stunning. It's so complex, the stories you tell in each stanza (can I call them stanzas?) It's like reading several stories at once, and you pull out a different emotion for each. And the way it all blended together. This is a poem that I will have to come back to. Thank you for taking me on that journey :heart: .

 

Thank you for this wonderful comment. I can’t tell you how encouraging it is to know you will come back to this again. Each of the four pieces is a ‘mirrored cinquain,’ a syllable counting form I have come to enjoy. The story is unfinished, but I hope you will imagine an ending you like. 

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i read this first thing yesterday morning ... am back today and i'm not feeling any better about it. It disturbs me deeply but somewhere deeper than my conscious mind. It left me feeling bereft and sad in a way.  Very well crafted Parker...very well.

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5 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

i read this first thing yesterday morning ... am back today and i'm not feeling any better about it. It disturbs me deeply but somewhere deeper than my conscious mind. It left me feeling bereft and sad in a way.  Very well crafted Parker...very well.

I am sorry it left you disturbed; I fear it was a very hard poem to compose, and to read, too. There are times when I feel that emptiness, that sadness you speak of - Maybe everyone does. But that you thought this was written well helps to fill things...thank you for coming back to this. 

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Disturbing, sad, bleak ... Verses which worm themselves inside my head - the words are so clear, so unequivocal. There's nothing hidden or obscured in the text, and the images are dark, self-disparaging.  Excellently done, distinctly chewy. (And it must've taken you ages to set up on the page ... ;) )

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3 minutes ago, northie said:

Disturbing, sad, bleak ... Verses which worm themselves inside my head - the words are so clear, so unequivocal. There's nothing hidden or obscured in the text, and the images are dark, self-disparaging.  Excellently done, distinctly chewy. (And it must've taken you ages to set up on the page ... ;) )

I will admit to fussing with the spacing and placement on the page for a long while. I thank you deeply for trying this very chewy offering. This duet between despair and belief played in my head for a long time. I am not sure if the subject and countersubject ever fully form complete harmony; that is for you to imagine. I am very grateful you came back to this. 

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11 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

This duet between despair and belief

I'm not sure I see very much belief in any of the stanzas ... :unsure: They are all stark - not to the same degree, perhaps, but all imbued with a dark, uncertain hue. 

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1 hour ago, northie said:

I'm not sure I see very much belief in any of the stanzas ... :unsure: They are all stark - not to the same degree, perhaps, but all imbued with a dark, uncertain hue. 

 

I suppose one reads more into things when one writes than actually appears on the page. An writer’s hazard, I suppose. The right-hand strand sees something in the left...

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