Teaparty for Two
by
Chessie Hodge
(Age: 18)
copyright 03-01-2008
Age Rating: 10 to 127
Bright blue and green teacups sat perfectly still
Our guests came dressed
Striped stockings, corsets, frills, coats, and tophats
Fake looking smiles plastered on their quiet faces...
The gore was amazing
And our hands were soaked.
I stared at the scene with a mischievous grin
You were picking at the gum on the bottom of your shoe
And I was drinking your orange soda
Heart shaped balloons sailed over our heads and popped in the brilliant sun...
Our cotton candy clouds turned black
We linked our dirty fingers
And we danced in the storm
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you recommend or rate the work highly...
I could only repeat everything that everyone else said, even though it's all that and more. This is so colorful and yet so haunting.
This is a keeper, put it in your "best"box.
Man o man, this is just brilliant! By far your best to date. I loved every line, and the double message is a killer, pardon the pun. To try to find my favorite lines I'd have to quote the whole poem, but wow: Fake looking smiles, gore was amazing, picking at the gum (nice touch, that), danced in the storm (when the cotton candy clouds turned black), and the rain was red. Golly gee, ma, why couldn't I have written that one?! Do keep it up,
Your friend and fan,
Wayne
Whoaaaa...I love it!
Your style is very dark and very intresting, I might not seem like it, but blood and gore is quite fine with me.
I'd love to read more things by you!
The more times I read this, the more enjoyable it becomes. Not because it becomes any more clear, but because of the exact opposite. This writing sings to my word-smith's ear, to what I have been told is my poet's soul, to the craftsman plying his craft and saying, "Well done!"
I am reminded of bits and pieces to so many different things, not the least of which would be, "In The Looking Glass," or an episode of Teen Titans with the players thusly dressed, even Code Lyoko comes in, along with Bleach and Blood and others.
But the medieval flavor which is imparted, at least up to the point of "orange gum," is beguiling. I'm also reminded of a senior prom gone horribly wrong when the ghouls and vampires came to feast.
My salty pen is so intimidated, it refuses to come out to say a word on the technicals, lest it be gobbled up in the dance of blood. ^^
This is the kind of writing that is often done for the writer, if for none other. Sometimes just to delight in creating a vision, a scene, with your poet's paintbrush justifies the writing--as if justification is ever needed. It is not!
But the logician says to look more deeply, just because it's unusual or doesn't fit the mold, doesn't mean there's nothing there. And very often, a writing will obtain it's true meaning to the the author and to none other. But still, we want to dissect it, to understand it, to be able to rant and rave like a deranged academician, on its merits and values and esoteric meanings. Such there may be. But if there aren't, the imagery, the allusions, and the ghostly fingers that almost touch, make this write nicely done! ^^
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