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sitting in a food place
awaiting my falafel order
middle eastern music piped
into my thoughts of you

the too hot babe they
call you a crude understatement
trains of thought jump their tracks
when you casualy sashay by

the cliche'd symbols of nature
do you an injustice and here
me judge and jury
find you guilty on all counts

much to my suprise
you know my name share
my bed and you smile
at my confusion as i awake

salut
elazar

What a delightful, surprize poem, Elazar! I like the contrasting play between the verses and images. I thoroughly enjoyed this poem.

The first one, totally passive and receptive with sitting, awaiting, with the external working its way into your thoughts of something external.

Your next verse ~ great "description" of her, as I try to form a mental picture. "Trains of thought jump their tracks" ~ great! "When you casually sashay by" ~ When we generally think of the trains passing by, I love the contrast [and inversion] of a stationary being, with his internal, massive, fast, forward-moving, on-course machinery [of thought] barreling into derailment, as the result of gentle, soft-and-free, unfocused movement, that externally passes by. Great turns of phrase and contrast.

Then, you go completely external to nature, and then back into your own head with the rigid structure of a courtroom, and bang your gavel to "guilty" on all, splendiforous counts.

Your last verse ~ WoW. What a lovely surprize. Couldn't be any more passive and receptive than this. Now, instead of the external weaving its way into your thoughts of her, your internal world is awakening to the reality of her. You're still making sense of it. Yet, the chaos has settled. The train is at rest. She smiles.

~ Elizabeth

elizabeth,
many thanks for your beautiful ilucidation!muses here come a dime a dozen

salut,
elazar

Hi Elazar ~

Yes, I can imagine . Just treat them well, and with respect, and they'll cherish memories of you, too .

~ Elizabeth

falafel is tasty

I like your poem man, reminds me of hot summer nights misspent in Haifa and Tel Aviv, my woman surprisingly at my side, white mercedes, falafel, salad, pickles....how good were those days...
life moves in ways..some how I never feel like that any more miraculous love, innocent sensuous desire masked by adolescent sincerity.

Melees in the streets, dusky women in short skirts, dark skinned swarthy men in T-shirts. I found a sort of Heaven there in that foreign land and you took me back for a moment....Thanks

regards

Ronnie

ronnie,
glad you liked it and that it struck a cord for you.

salut,
elazar