Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Retro Writes (Tuesday) #7



The Rules:

Welcome to my new writing challenge!

Every Tuesday I will post some lovely retro-era eye candy as inspiration (think 50's-80's decades).  I will be posting photographs and advertisement ephemera that, perhaps, is quite different from modern day photography in hopes that it may inspire us to come up with parallels and concepts we might not otherwise make with modern art/photography.

Simply write a piece of poetry, fiction, flash fiction, or even create your own art-work.  Anything goes so long as you create/write something original!

Leave a link to your post so I (along with others) can visit and comment.  Please also link back to this page in your original post so others can find it.  

Most of all, have fun creating!


And now, for the prompt.


Retro Writes (Tuesday) #7


Look at the advertisement photo for a few moments and allow yourself to be inspired.


Here is my contribution:

Sadie's Song

The strange voices of men
in dirty inner-city bars
always scoffed at my
briefcase full of poetry-on-pages;
they never understood the
dreams behind my eyes,
the road-dust in my shoes
itching, still, to be shed.
They built pretty paper walls
with my words and were
always shocked at my
after-morning break-through.
I would assemble doors
with their rebuffs, deleted
'no' and 'never' from the
writing-reservoir of my mind.
The imagination became my
utopia, a complete esoteric
experience of heaven-on-earth,
found between colors and words,
books of the poets, the
ideology of Anais Nin soaking
between my brain space
like chocolate-cream gravy;
She made me long to dance
like wild ivy caught on the mend
of some unexpected summer wind.
A random lover once told me 
to stop running, to smell the roses,
so I made a bed of the dessert,
naked skin became my shield,
I was as wild as birch-wood and elm.
Each night the stars twinkled
their pointy-toed two-step
across my nerve-endings 
a cosmic electrification, primal
in the way  no hand-palm 
has touched me, before or sense. 


Note:  Although I used first person, this isn't about me.  I don't really prefer dirty bars and strange men.  LOL.

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