- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Ingrained Stains
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Ingrained Stains
She moulds cigarettes in bent
fingers with the dexterity
of a teen, scratches her head
and talks through every silence.
A matriarch,
not coifed nor powdered,
for perfume no longer smothers
the grain stains of her smoke,
nor does it colour
the black and white regions
in the cliff-edged reasoning
of her mind. Her sun-cracked
hands detract from the mind
that pulled off a forty year lie
and eyes dart as she waits
to discover how we judge
her mistake. I struggle
to see a landscape uncoloured
and bare of shadows, but I feel
the fault of deception does not rest
with my newly-discovered half sister.
- COMMENTS
Maria2394about 18 years agovey well constructed, love the story. Only thing I maybe question is the way the lines are spaced, I dont know how I would change it though. Very good work, WSO :)
My Erotic Trailabout 18 years agoI enjoyed your poem wild~ Your masterfully written poem is very intriguing. (~_*)
sandspikeabout 18 years agoENDING. Read it 3 times to digest and loved it more each time.
Anonymousabout 18 years agoThis poem has texture and character. Great use of the senses. I enjoyed it much, but also question word choice - mainly 'dexterity' in the first stanza. I feel it doesn't match up with the other words you've chosen, making it a bit heavy. Of course, this a minimalist-free form poet talking ;)
TheRainManabout 18 years agoEverything you do shows signs of progress. Flow and line/strophe breaks, subtlety of language, strength at end and beginning -- all those things are getting better, a step at a time.
I question many word choices here, not necessarily as ineffective, but just as not sharp or the best possibilities. The metaphor goes from smoke to color to geology and back and feels mangled in spots. Here, for instance:
for perfume no longer smothers
the grain stains of her smoke,
nor does it colour
the black and white regions
in the cliff-edged reasoning
of her mind.
Very tangled phrasing to me -- somewhat clumsy, and certainly not pure.
The critique now is on another level with you, because of the advancements you've made. Effort pays off, no?
