Poems About Rita Dove Seeking Honest Critique
#RitaDove
AlisVolatPropriis8
Poem Published
18th Dec 2021 12:32pm
18th Dec 2021 12:32pm
The armour.
She saw her Lil sis playing
With pretty dolls none to her game
So when I grow up I'll shall make
You have dolls by the peppery cheddar potato rolls.
To-Fort
With pretty dolls none to her game
So when I grow up I'll shall make
You have dolls by the peppery cheddar potato rolls.
To-Fort
#RitaDove
295 reads
0 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
28th Jan 2021 8:50am
28th Jan 2021 8:50am
The Gavotte
Was I so disgraced?- I bowed,
she curtseyed low.
In two lines like troops would be
bedecked, alive with pageantry.
Like marionettes, in straightjackets
spinning to the harpsichord.
Fiddle's bow that courts a maid.
Music of tittle-tattle, behind fans
Rules of engagement,
the long drawn battle plans.
Drawn, by tight strung corsetry
Swords ever keen,
ready for the action.
Bouncing, skipping,
shaped romance, in relief.
Paper cut out courtisanes.
Plagiarised, a work by Edgar Degas
Dizziness...
she curtseyed low.
In two lines like troops would be
bedecked, alive with pageantry.
Like marionettes, in straightjackets
spinning to the harpsichord.
Fiddle's bow that courts a maid.
Music of tittle-tattle, behind fans
Rules of engagement,
the long drawn battle plans.
Drawn, by tight strung corsetry
Swords ever keen,
ready for the action.
Bouncing, skipping,
shaped romance, in relief.
Paper cut out courtisanes.
Plagiarised, a work by Edgar Degas
Dizziness...
#Romanticism
#RitaDove
405 reads
2 Comments
wallyroo92
Poem Published
29th Nov 2020 7:48am
29th Nov 2020 7:48am
Breakfast at Wally's
The sun gets up later in winter
but in my bedroom, a light softly penetrates
through the blinds and curtains,
I think “should I go for a run?”
but I’m only half awake.
The house is quiet
it’s cold outside but the sounds
of birds and cars
are beginning to shape the day,
And I begin to get hungry.
While all my loves are still sleeping
I get the coffee started
I make the eggs and bacon
with a side of hash browns and I say to myself:
“Hey Dove, I’m the one who’s cooking!”
but in my bedroom, a light softly penetrates
through the blinds and curtains,
I think “should I go for a run?”
but I’m only half awake.
The house is quiet
it’s cold outside but the sounds
of birds and cars
are beginning to shape the day,
And I begin to get hungry.
While all my loves are still sleeping
I get the coffee started
I make the eggs and bacon
with a side of hash browns and I say to myself:
“Hey Dove, I’m the one who’s cooking!”
#happiness
#love
#family
#food
#RitaDove
481 reads
16 Comments
slipalong
Poem Published
14th Nov 2020 8:52pm
14th Nov 2020 8:52pm
Another bite at the cherry
My old Nissan
its shine, with years , dulled, fading fast
its blotchy skin.
When was it polished last
and catch a glint.
Hanging from the mirror
a car vent that looks just like Tom Jones.
Dream; the apple Adam held,
the need to taste forbidden fruit.
With evil pride his ego swelled
I thought that I was in a hurry
the radio was playing Brian Ferry.
Addicted to love, vain hopes anthem
and one on one, be the sum.
In expectation longer dwell,
like children playing hide and seek
look round the corner take a peep. ...
its shine, with years , dulled, fading fast
its blotchy skin.
When was it polished last
and catch a glint.
Hanging from the mirror
a car vent that looks just like Tom Jones.
Dream; the apple Adam held,
the need to taste forbidden fruit.
With evil pride his ego swelled
I thought that I was in a hurry
the radio was playing Brian Ferry.
Addicted to love, vain hopes anthem
and one on one, be the sum.
In expectation longer dwell,
like children playing hide and seek
look round the corner take a peep. ...
#romantic
#aging
#RitaDove
365 reads
1 Comment
Ahavati
Tams
Tams
Poem Published
5th Nov 2020 7:49pm
5th Nov 2020 7:49pm
Theresienstadt Ghetto Symphony
( After Rita Dove )
Some played harmoniously
in the face of tragedy;
others, absurdly out of sync
regardless of advantages
Despite how we observe
or innately judge. . .
both inevitably belonged—
captive and guard
Inside each cavernous soul
exists a desire to complement
the mastery of music—
to be fondly remembered
a dedicated creator, or just part
of something greater—
as space between notes ...
Some played harmoniously
in the face of tragedy;
others, absurdly out of sync
regardless of advantages
Despite how we observe
or innately judge. . .
both inevitably belonged—
captive and guard
Inside each cavernous soul
exists a desire to complement
the mastery of music—
to be fondly remembered
a dedicated creator, or just part
of something greater—
as space between notes ...
#music
#WritingPoetry
#RitaDove
#war
#rebellion
699 reads
33 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Rita Dove Seeking Honest Critique
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#RitaDove is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
