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WHITEWASH

Writers People posted on Apr 14, 2008
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Description


Even at a tender age we learn some hard truths about love ... WHITEWASH She loves me: for such is signified by the symbol of a heart initial flanked, hers and mine, graven by a nail in grimy plaster with a screech to set my teeth in spasm. I lack the skill to make a balanced heart - my lobes all lop-lolly: it seems to me the lesser lobe denotes a lesser love to the bad sad side. I seek parity and so I interpose an equals sign between the names. A futile gesture, though years will pass before I recognise inherent inequalities of love. The soot-stained whitewash flakes and falls, dusts a close-clung flower on the wall, plaster-fastened and yellow-gold. Her mouth a little 'O' she flutes 'dents de lion' all grandiose and frenchified. Diminished I retort 'piss-the-bed' the local slang. Dandelion: teeth of a lion! Shaped like lemon pegs in circles and more circles? She shakes her head and with a grin traces the margin of the leaf. I see. Dentate margin - toothed edge. I see. She muses that the yellow whorls will shape up to wispy seeds all in a gauzy globe while I'm away: a lovers clock to blow - she makes another moue - all kissy-face. I can't resist a kiss and so I do. She whispers we can 'huff and puff' [and kiss] again when I return. On my return the beast who bids me call him Dad, to camouflage a month of betting-shops and booze relates the local gossip with a grin; my girl has gone, a moonlight flit, and to justify himself pretends how busy he has been. The yard is white and pristine bright, all promises erased, commitments covered and finally wildflower free All-in-all it seems, for now at least, She loves me not.

Comments (18)


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Meisiekind

4:57AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

How tender and fragile a tale! 'She loves me, she loves me not..." Excellently executed as always my dear friend. Hugs, Carin xx

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AusPoet

5:08AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Oh, Mike, I always look forward to your posts. This one does not disappoint. A beautifully sweet and tragic story you weave, of a young heart callously broken by an old and jaded one. I hope he got his comeuppance!

Excellent work my friend; if I could still "vote" as in the old days, I would do so. Instead, I shall call this a favourite.

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algra

5:09AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Nice work and a sensitive poem.

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RodolfoCiminelli

6:05AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Excellent and beautiful realization Mike.....!!!!

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mickuk50

7:07AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

excellent description of how fragile life can be and more over LOVE :o) mick

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beachzz

7:37AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Oh my, what a beautfiful story of a broken heart; Love ~~~ so great, so good, so fleeting sometimes!!!

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BlueLotus7

8:34AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Once again your words paint glorious albeit sad pictures...but as seeds of the dandelion reseed the lawn...love returns in another form and place. It flourishes in places one would not expect anything to survive: between cracked sidewalks of Time and in the crevices of shady alleyways we occupy as homeless lovers.

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vaggabondd

8:53AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Very nice work my friend

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dhanco

9:41AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Beauty and sadness in this wonderful story, Mike. So true and very touching life experiences you reveal in this excellent work. I had to read this twice .. thank you for sharing your beautiful words.

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helanker

9:53AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

SO beautiful it is. Very lovely poetry, Mike.

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romanceworks

11:33AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Such bittersweet memories captured in your lovely and poignant words. Your poetry is always a journey to the heart. :o) CC

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hipps13

11:50AM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Hi Mike To Love is not easy at least it comes in many forms beautiful work sweet smile to you warm hug, Linda

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leanndra

12:09PM | Mon, 14 April 2008

How sad! It makes me cry. Love is never equal it seems. Oh to experience love that is pain free. Beautiful writing Mike, but so sad.

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amirapsp

3:35PM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Stunning...Hugs

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Blush

3:40PM | Mon, 14 April 2008

This is a sad poem sweetie But wonderful as always Hugs Susan~

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avalonfaayre

3:43PM | Mon, 14 April 2008

My 'baby daddy' told his son it is always best to be the one who loves less. I told him differently, of course. It is always better to love the most. It hurts more in the end, but I couldn't live with myself knowing I didn't give all I had. Says something about him though. I remember this one. I loved it before, too. I love, "Piss the bed." Never heard of that term before, but it just might become my new slang...lol!

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auntietk

10:30PM | Mon, 14 April 2008

Ahhhhh ... a sad tale, indeed. A fickle young woman, more interested in herself than in anyone else. Beautifully written, my friend. Your story is well told.

)

bangonthedrums

4:28AM | Thu, 17 April 2008

how heart-wrenching...! you have made a tragic tale beautiful in your poignant telling of it...


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