Kissing the Warhorse by lemonpromenade

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Submission Name: Kissing the Warhorse dots

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Author:	lemonpromenade
Elite Ratio:	5.35 - 27/31/10
Words:	81

Class/Type:	Poetry/Misc
Total Views:	209
Average Vote:	No vote yet.
Bytes:	637

Description:
A poem about two people vwho are being oppressed by the government and their outlook on life.

Kissing the Warhorse dots

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Yesternight,
I caught a thousand fireflies
and made you a heaven.
Cellophane skin so soft
fragile and pure.
Our porcelain lung,
our breathing machine--
it keeps me alive
watching, staring
at cold TV glares in
a desolate wonderland.
we fell into slumber
and dreamt of Indian waves
moving through summer skies--
kissing the warhorse.
Not a menage a trois
or plutonium death
could lime our rusty
metal beliefs.

And tonight, we are
still quixotic.
Yet somehow, less
chimerical.

Submitted on 2006-04-02 15:02:41 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

1: >_<
2: I dunno...
3: meh!
4: Pretty cool
5: Wow!

||| Comments |||
  wow this is a killer poem. I see that our styles are similar. You took some very general subjects, love, oppression, and "the alternative" and you colored it with some very fuzzy images so that you could enhance the space for interpretion from us readers. By looking at the pervious comments, I could tell readers had a heyday with this one. Some very cool imagery,

Porcelian lung, I love that...

an aritst is one who can find beauty kicking metal cans

one thing that I must note, however, is some of your images did not fit within the general context of the peice.. . The most striking is the use of "chimera"... I think there needs to be something else that points to this "half man, half animal" state.

Okay thats all from me, I really look forward to reading more from you in the future

K
| Posted on 2006-06-04 00:00:00 | by screams | [ Reply to This ]
  What words! (Your username fits into that exclamation as well, by the way.)

Hey look this has been sitting in my browser for days now with a halfwritten comment. Oh boy.

Honestly, I really like this. I love the way you put the words together and how the roll off my tongue and the images they provoke. But I don't understand this piece at all. Even after reading your desription, I can't figure out how that and the poem jive at all. So I don't know what to do other than go through this piece by piece and try to explain what I get from it... with the caveat that I know I'm stripping this down lots and lots.... I feel like I understand but can't explain the subtleties, but the big picture is completely lost on me.

But first the nitpickeries: I think warhorse is usually war-horse, and we fell into slumber should be We fell into slumber

Yesternight,
I caught a thousand fireflies
and made you a heaven.
The speaker is in love and I'm swept off my feet.

Cellophane skin so soft
fragile and pure.
Didn't notice this is a fragment til just now.
Cellophane contrasts nicely with fireflies; synthetic vs. natural ... the lover is somehow fragile ... There is also a sense of the speaker wanting to protect the lover.

Our porcelain lung,
our breathing machine--
it keeps me alive
watching, staring
at cold TV glares in
a desolate wonderland.
Porcelain, again, fragile. I'm forced to think of the iron lung and therefore polio ... probably unintentional though. There is something about the TV that is necessary for survival (addictive almost? ... like, they don't actually need it, they just believe they do?) and yet there are no good connotations with what comes from the TV and therefore the outside world. There are fireflies in this wonderland, and yet it is desolate. Yesternight the speaker could make heaven from fireflies, and yet the outside world saps hope and goodness...

we fell into slumber
and dreamt of Indian waves
moving through summer skies--
kissing the warhorse.
Again the juxtaposition of natural beauty and peace with unhappiness. (Well, I have to say the bad connotation with "warhorse" here is more from above and below than in this little sentence.) Yet in sleep everything is okay and safe and even famous soldiers are embraced.

Not a menage a trois
or plutonium death
could lime our rusty
metal beliefs.
So this is the part of the poem where I first realized that I have no idea at all what's really going on. And yet it's so beautiful! The strength of love, ... I don't know. Rusty beliefs.... beliefs left hidden and unused for a long time? .... somehow something is simultaneously both "rusty" and unmeasurably strong.

And tonight, we are
still quixotic.
Yet somehow, less
chimerical.
So at first I thought this was just pretty word play. Oh look at the words how nice. But thanks to vague connotations I will venture a guess: there are fantastic, impossible ideas that seem possible, yet for some reason, tonight they don't seem just like a fantasy; they have some glimpse of reality or potential.

Okay, that's about all I can really say ... I love the way you use words, but I wish the deeper meaning weren't so elusive to me.

--Jasmine
| Posted on 2006-04-04 00:00:00 | by bitterlily | [ Reply to This ]
  We're all slaves in one way or another so to me this felt more like a metaphorical mental escape from reality to me.

"Yesternight,
I caught a thousand fireflies
and made you a heaven."

As a reader I'm not sure how fireflies and making a heaven exactly connects.

"Cellophane skin so soft
fragile and pure.
Our porcelain lung,
our breathing machine--
it keeps me alive
watching, staring
at cold TV glares in
a desolate wonderland."

Interesting imagery for what seems to be a somewhat artificial and sterile world.

"we fell into slumber
and dreamt of Indian waves
moving through summer skies--
kissing the warhorse.
Not a menage a trois
or plutonium death
could lime our rusty
metal beliefs."

You create an interesting juxtaposition here. Still very hard to get your head around. The ending was pretty okay.

I must say it was all in all a little too far fetched imagery and metaphor to fit nicely together for me. While it definately brings something across it doesn't yield the power more tangible poems can yield. Something to consider perhaps.
| Posted on 2006-04-02 00:00:00 | by machine dream | [ Reply to This ]
  Yesternight,
I caught a thousand fireflies
and made you a heaven.
Cellophane skin so soft
fragile and pure.

This is purely magical. I love these lines. The rest of it kind of lost me. You've used some great words, but there is no message that I can perceive - I know you said it's a couple's outlook on being oppressed by their government, but what that outlook is I'd be hard-pressed to say.

Don't mind me. I'm not a big fan of obscure poetry, being rather a straightforward person myself. But I have to say, I did love those first lines. Beautiful. mae
| Posted on 2006-04-02 00:00:00 | by mae | [ Reply to This ]
  what a crazy quilt of rich words and odd images..which is appealing.."could lime our rusty metal beliefs" lines like this I think feel more complete than ending one line on "rusty"

PERHAPS ;

Not a menage a trois or
plutonium death could lime
our rusty metal beliefs.

And tonight, we are still
quixotic. Yet somehow,
less
chimerical.

the porcelain lung, is open to interpretation, a pipe? getting loaded and zoning in front of the TV, internally alll this fantastic love and creativity?

Or, lungs turned to porcelain..everything internally, brittle ready to shatter...what i like is that it keeps me puzzling on your meaning, section by section, line by line...it is so deftly written, and is presented as though linear, normal thought...so it feels complete as though you had said. Yesterday weird things happened on the way to the bank...." but this is the language of dreams..of that odd half understood set of symbols and moods that two people living togehter, use to comunicate...never fully explained, yet comfortable...so for me...a killer poem. KUDOS.
| Posted on 2006-04-02 00:00:00 | by koster | [ Reply to This ]

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