Cinema Poem

[woody]

We’d go to the cinema in the afternoons
Then for coffee later.
She’d studied film for four years
And when discussing it afterward
She sounded like a police mortician
Diagnosing the cause of death,
The more lavish and Hollywood the affair
The more bloated the corpse,
“Exposition, complication, climax”
She'd say and draw a curved line on a napkin
Depicting the three stages of composition.
One day she said,
“Only life can teach us how things explode”
And it was true I thought-
Most men drop dead
In the middle of their story or
Have nothing resembling a story at all.
When she finally left
I carried on visiting the cinema in the afternoon
I sat so long in the dark
That my senses grew confused
The most simple story perplexed me
I found myself laughing at death scenes
And weeping at the jokes.
Even years later the random sight
Of falling buildings and planes
Had similar effect,
Now nothing made sense at all
No matter how well explained and
Beautiful the arc.

[imaginary friend]

Yay Woody!

Good to see you here again. I liked your poem/concept, especially these lines:

I sat so long in the dark
That my senses grew confused
The most simple story perplexed me
I found myself laughing at death scenes
And weeping at the jokes.

Hope all is well with you; I miss the travelling pack of naked poets you invoked and coaxed to life here...

[woody]

hi friend,

thanks for the comment. yes i haven't been around in awhile. this time i'm not here to invite people to take their clothes off... not unless they want to that is.

[Cate]

ahhh Woody it's nice to see you.

Your poem is touching and follows the curve of the arc itself.

~~~
added on as I traveled back to re-read that old thread.

I miss the traveling pack of naked poets you invoked and coaxed to life here...

The Traveling Pack of Naked Poets

I.F., I love that, it has superheros type of ring to it. I had forgotten about that and just went back to re-read

and Woody in case you've forgotten how demanding and persistent you can be (great lines btw)

What is a poem? A poem is a naked person.
Now who else will stop talking and undress?

[abby]

So good.