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Once Pretty

Contributed by Merry on Sunday, 3rd September 2006 @ 08:46:11 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



~*~*~*~*~*~**~~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Plush velvet flesh jiggles when she walks
She moves slowly to deceive the eyes
No bouncing bosoms in a tank top
Or running shorts riding up her crack
She attempts model looks in the mirror
Laughing at her own foolish actions

Age doesn’t come easy to a once pretty face
She notices more decay than she wants to admit
Tries this cream and that to putty the cracks
Decides au natural works best in the end
The devil is in her green eyes watching
Somehow amused by her aging demise

Rings on her fingers and rings on her toes
She tosses her head with lioness pride
A quick little smile and perfected pose
She seems timeless to unseeing eyes
Once she was pretty with time on her side
Once she was pretty with nothing to hide




Copyright © Merry ... [ 2006-09-03 08:46:11]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Once Pretty (User Rating: 1 )
by Ruby2sdy on Sunday, 3rd September 2006 @ 10:38:03 AM AEST
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awww. sad little poem there, that's the problem with aging; society doesn't accept it, like being fat, short, bald, ugly, etc... why can't we all just accept each other? and accept that life, love and everything else has an effect on our bodies, instead of injecting botox, collagen and god knows what else into our skin? sorry for the rant, but this poem really struck a chord. thanks for sharing,

2sdyx


Re: Once Pretty (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Sunday, 3rd September 2006 @ 11:25:44 PM AEST
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Such a deep, true write.
I can so relate.
luv, huggs, smiles,
emy


Re: Once Pretty (User Rating: 1 )
by Drapes on Wednesday, 6th September 2006 @ 01:54:50 PM AEST
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Awww sad, but great write! It makes me even more afraid to grow up... good write though!


Re: Once Pretty (User Rating: 1 )
by Spike on Thursday, 28th September 2006 @ 07:15:24 AM AEST
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Merry, it is a bitter-sweet poem, there's no denying it, and we do surrender our youth and dreams and once svelte or curvaceous bodies reluctantly. But to me, this is also a declaration of spirit, an unblinking stare into the mortal mirror (and so casual in your mastery of word and flow, so beautiful a recrafting of mundane sensibilities and feelings).

David Croneburg was recently interviewed by Empire magazine about History of Violence, but by way of that talked about the Fly and its underlying discourse on aging and 'falling apart' (quite literally in that flick!). And he talked about the body as 'the first act of existence' from which we create everything else, including our perception of beauty and youth and values attached to those things. He was particularly insightful in contrasting the narcissistic wonder we have with external symmetry and surface with our repulsion to what lies so close below the surface.

And while I too slow the walk to limit the wobble of the burgeoning man-boobs, I also take a grim pleasure in the wrinkles and grey hairs. So I'm surrendering slowly, hoping to acquire something else on this path to the grave, as I'm sure you are too, Dylan Thomas rage aside.

S




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