The Ask of Conversation

I placed myself amongst ghosts,
floorboards, stripped, bare and honest -
those paths, what remain, prey for romantics,
meaning by theft, unclothed, and love by absence.
My saint up to an empty hanging space, orthodox,
suicide pertaining, kiss, plaiting fingers down my back,
look onto my breath as company and perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...
I am a girl, I am a boy, lucid want, in span;
wanting to take, comfortably,
give,
meet you there -
 
and if this never happens,
 
art of mine,
 
I do not mind waiting,
freefalling.

◄ Mr Camera

The Yell Room ►

Comments

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Marianne Louise Daniels

Thu 2nd Dec 2010 11:42

Thankyou Laura :-)

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Laura Taylor

Thu 2nd Dec 2010 11:25

Just to clarify, I'm the first one to defend giving no explanation. I hate being asked myself, as to give an authorial meaning only serves to close off avenues of pleasure and thought. I find Marianne's work incredibly dense and fragmentary, to the point where it feels like a collage to me. By this, I do not mean to imply any negativity, or indeed whine for an explanation :)

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Marianne Louise Daniels

Wed 1st Dec 2010 18:32

pete, it is quite weird and brilliant but that IS the same picture that I had in my mind...

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Marianne Louise Daniels

Wed 1st Dec 2010 16:50

thankyou, i am happy with those comments. I don't want you to pick out a secret code, but if you have felt a little something then it just reflects what i felt whilst writing...much appreciated

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Francis Barker

Wed 1st Dec 2010 15:58

I like this a lot. First one of yours I have read. I read it out aloud to myself and I can't pretend to understand but that's sometimes the curse of this age. It wants to know, it wants to know now. The analogy is tearing the wings of a butterfly... Let it be.

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Laura Taylor

Wed 1st Dec 2010 15:19

Must admit, I do struggle with yours Marianne. They always sound beautiful, but I'm buggered if I know what they're about. I do love this phrase though 'meaning by theft'

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