Biography

[Bernie01]

Autobiography


Trace of Macchiato
carelessly strung
over the cherry lip
of my wife's mouth.

To fool me, you need
more than a milk
moustache.

Shower water circles
the tub, a glazed spell
colors her ballerina foot,
naked buttocks drape
like grammar in a poem.

I forget the rhyme scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down my notebook.




Original

Trace of Macchiato
carelessly strung
over the cherry lip
of my wife's mouth.

To fool me, you need
more than a milk
moustache.

Hot shower water circles
the tub, a glazed spell
colors her ballerina foot,
naked buttocks drape
like grammar in a poem.

I forget the rhyme scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down the notebook.

[FranktheFrank]

This is magical Bernie.

Typical Bernie.

Grabs our attention from the start.

Poetry at its best.

[SivaRamanathan]

B

What I like most is the title. And of course the last sentence.


S

[Michael (MV)]

Hi Bernie.


seems more an "Auto-biography" than biography

maybe Autobiography as title?


smooth & admiral, how the 3rd stanza imagines the floating world" - ukiyo-e

^^ here is a soundtrack & lyric to accompany the scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCps14dW-OE


workshop sharing fort he last stanza -


I forget the scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down the notebook.

or

I forget the scheme
of my villanelle. She out-rhymes me,
I put down the notebook

or

I forget the scheme
of my villanelle. She rhymes with me,
putting down the notebook.

or

I forget the scheme
of my villanelle. She rhymes for me,
putting down the notebook.


If you don't already have a poem committed to representing another board for this upcoming June IBPC,
would you please consider "Biography" to represent the WB:

viewtopic.php?f=3&t=6573


Thanks, mojave



Michael (MV)
 

Trace of Macchiato
carelessly strung
over the cherry lip
of my wife's mouth.

To fool me, you need
more than a milk
moustache.

Hot shower water steeps
in blank circling puddles,
the tub's glazed spell,
drowns her ballerina foot
white as winter Bolshoi,
naked buttocks draped
like grammar in a poem.

I forget the rhyme scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down the notebook.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

[SivaRamanathan]

Yes.I second Michael's nomination.

S

[Michael (MV)]

 
Thanks, Siva,

for your interest.


Would you please voice your nom-nod(s) in the monthly thread @ Palaver:

viewtopic.php?f=3&t=6573


Thanks, Siva

Michael (MV)
 

 

Yes.I second Michael's nomination.

S

 
 
 
 
 

[Bernie01]

Frank:

my goodness, thanks for that high praise.


Siva:

and a IBPC nod, i'm in an earthly heaven.


Michael:

will continue to review the close, for now, big thanks and yes to the IBPC nom.



bernie

[BobBradshaw]

I agree. It's a lovely poem...I would remove the two lines about the naked buttocks draped / like grammar over a poem. The lines are distracting...they take the poem in an abstract direction that isn't needed, because the details of the poem are so gorgeous.

Hot shower water steeps
in blank circling puddles,
the tub's glazed spell,
drowns her ballerina foot
white as winter Bolshoi.

I forget the rhyme scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down the notebook.

[meenas17]

Certain lines do not go with me, otherwise, it is a fine poem.

[Bernie01]

Bob---

will experiment and remove that line about grammar---in my mind it related to the remarke about a villanelle.



M---only one line you didn't like? i got off lightly.


thanks to you both for your time and comments.


bernie

[Bernie01]

Revision #1

Autobiography

Trace of Macchiato
carelessly strung
over the cherry lip
of my wife's mouth.

To fool me, you need
more than a milk
moustache.

Hot shower water circles
the tub, a glazed spell
colors her ballerina foot,
naked buttocks drape
like grammar in a poem.

I forget the rhyme scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down the notebook.






Original

Trace of Macchiato
carelessly strung
over the cherry lip
of my wife's mouth.

To fool me, you need
more than a milk
moustache.

Hot shower water steeps
in blank circling puddles,
the tub's glazed spell
drowns her ballerina foot
white as winter Bolshoi,
naked buttocks draped
like grammar in a poem.

I forget the rhyme scheme
of my villanelle. She wins,
I put down the notebook.