Daily Prompt: Opposite Day

If you normally write non-fiction, post a photo. If you normally post images, write fiction. If you normally write fiction, write a poem. If you normally write poetry, draw a picture.

Opposite In your eyes I see the fire, and I,

must keep my soul steady and cold

for your judgement I fear

as much as I seek your presence

and you may enjoy mine…

The opposite we are,

as the walls of the Roman stadium are

to the bright steel and glass buildings

of our cities…

Yet the river flows and

I cannot detach my mind

from the dream…

Is it yours?

 

#FiveSentenceFiction: Locked

Vilde Tobiassen: Uncertainty, 2013

The first time your fragile beauty enchanted him, beyond what he could imagine.

Your hair, your thin body, those eyes, he marvelled at how nature could create such a jewel, and through the glass, the dream came alive, independent, obstinate.

You haunted his nights, by day he walked the streets, your image overlaid on all others, the slow torture of his obsession nestled in his heart.

The second time you were all tears and despair: you told him of your failures, your face the glow of a Vermeer, so vulnerable he thought, as he kissed you.

You agreed to meet again, and he knew then he was now locked in your dream.

(Inspired by Carol Ann Duffy’s poem Pygmalion’s Bride, and by you, my model)

#BlogMeMaybe: May 24 – May I tell you something about someone else?

The Model

Kate MossYou inspired thousands of photographers, kept the media busy with your private life, had that awful boy friend I’d have strangled with my bare hands with delight, and are the  metaphor for the greatest clubland anthems of all times…

For this adopted Londoner, you are the best of England, the real product of this tiny island, the daughter of this frustrating, attractive and abominable city where I live. You still turn heads in the streets, and no, you can’t really compete with the sculptural Italians, the colossal Germans and the tall North Americans, but you are, to my mind, without competitors, in a class of your own. You are the Model.

She’s a model and she’s looking good
I’d like to take her home that’s understood
She plays hard to get, she smiles from time to time
It only takes a camera to change her mind

She’s going out tonight but drinking just champagne
And she has been checking nearly all the men
She’s playing her game and you can hear them say
She is looking good, for beauty we will pay

She’s posing for consumer products now and then
For every camera she gives the best she can
I saw her on the cover of a magazine
Now she’s a big success, I want to meet her again…

[Kraftwerk: the Model, 1982]