The LDR Of The Silent Movie Queen
The silent movie queen
drops her parfait spoon,
and up comes her arm,
bent at the elbow,
delicate fingers curled
at her cupid's bow mouth;
a single tear
falling from her fabulous raccoon eye.
Who should be watching this—
Who should be riveted by this—
but the talk show radio host.
Given a mobile of microphones
by his parents
as a baby,
his mother cradled him, drenching him in her love,
and whispered,
“We’re on the air.”
The radio talk show host
dreams of surrounding the silent movie queen
with his mellifluous devotion.
Above their bed,
a red light;
next to their bed,
a bank of telephones,
all off the hook.
He believes that she
can teach him not to fear being seen.
He believes that she,
enraptured by his kisses,
might express her joy
on a charming sepia-toned
dialog card.
The silent movie queen
tilts her head,
seems to laugh, almost child-like
though she must now be over a hundred.
Her curls,
her dress,
her wide-brimmed bouquet of a hat;
all of these fill the radio talk show host with longing,
and strike him dumb with desire,
just as the ending credits come up.
In the dark, no one can see him.
In the dark
he hears her calling him
from across the years.
Calling,
calling,
caller,
( he whispers )
Don’t hang up.
by Fireblossom,
normally of Shay's Word Garden
where you can now read this, (power having been restored to the benighted area in question) much improved and more Fireblossomy in her own font and blog style:
(Note: LDR = Long Distance Relationship)
Image: Mary Pickford,
By Moody, NY [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
I hope it's obvious that I didn't write this--as anyone reading past the first line can no doubt tell, so me a leaving a comment is not as weird as it seems. ;-)
ReplyDeleteShay,I loved the way the characters came alive here, the sense of forlornness in the talk show host, the seductive grace and beauty of a long dead image, somehow more real than anything contemporary in flesh and blood. It's impossible to slice out lines from the whole, but I especially loved the fourth, fifth and final stanzas. Fine poem on a subject you own.
hot. a bank of phones all off the hook...oh i think she probably could teach us a thing or two if only she could answer the phone...even if she is a 100 i bet she could...very nice write shay and i hope you get power back soon...
ReplyDeleteThanks for making it possible for us to read this, hedgewitch.
ReplyDeleteShay, Your take on the prompt is so original. I love this, especially the phrase, "charming sepia-toned dialog card."
Wow, you fill in character in amazing strokes masterfully in such small space. More alive (per my comment last week) writing for sure, pretty soon the poems will head out on the open road or start an awesome circus. Very inspired write, thanks for calling it in and thanks to Joy for loaning you a microphone!
ReplyDeleteAmazing again! Powerful even with no power! I love the image of a mobile of mikes for the baby! Now I know what to get my friend for that perfect baby shower gift!
ReplyDeleteThis is the inspiration I was seeking...the words that wouldn't come...a fantastic read that simply reeks of Fireblossom! We'd know you no matter whose site you're posted on! Joy, thanks for getting Shay's words to us...this was awesome!
ReplyDeleteThanks everybody. I know Shay will appreciate your comments.
ReplyDeletethis sent shivers up my spine! "caller, don't hang up." I feel like something horrible is about to happen to him. This has a haunting chill to it that I can't quite put my finger on. Thanks, Fireblossom, for making sure this beauty got to us and thanks, Joy for helping her :)
ReplyDeleteFantastic, Shay. I loved this! I hope you get your power back on..soon!!!!!!
ReplyDeletegive her a kiss from me for the use of parentheses in penultimate line
ReplyDeletePerfect, perfect ending, Shay. Wow.
ReplyDeleteThanks Joy for posting this.
ReplyDeleteYes, it is Shay's unmistakable writing style. I like these lines best:
He believes that she
can teach him not to fear being seen.
He believes that she,
enraptured by his kisses,
might express her joy
on a charming sepia-toned
dialog card.
dumb with desire (he whispers) don't hang up.
ReplyDeleteThe silence afterwards is as deafening.
Well done!
calling calling...
ReplyDeleteI liked this very much, a subject I found too hard to even tackle!
ReplyDeleteAppositves attract - the svelte enthralling image envoweled and troweled into the poem by the smooth baritone master of another lost soul of another tossed media. Something like a poem spreading fragrance out of a computer's motherboard. Who needs that phat juice, anyway?- Brendan
ReplyDeleteThank you so much to Joy for having the patience and generosity to help me get this poem up. I was SO excited about this prompt, and SO frustrated at not being able to be part of it, but thanks to you, I was able to after all..
ReplyDeleteThanks you to everyone who commented!!! My power finally came back on, about ten minutes ago. :-)
I loved this! Are you the same Fireblossom who, fairly recently, said that poetry had left her (or something like that)?
ReplyDeleteI shake my head in amazement, and so love your love for the art from that era.
How do things like this come to you, Shay? It's phenomenal.
Given a mobile of microphones
by his parents
as a baby,
his mother cradled him, drenching him in her love,
and whispered,
“We’re on the air.”
Now that Shay is back in the land of the living, she's posted the poem on her own blog, so you can leave a comment for her there. I added the direct link above.
ReplyDeleteWelcome home, dear.
Wow-worthy - that is, great write. Especially love the end-stanza.
ReplyDeleteWhat a character sketch - perfection. And the theme says much of the LDR, seems there will always be a sad ending.
ReplyDelete