doorman

Dec 13, 2009 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

The sweet smell of fresh nails

Boozed bubbles from a glass

nipping the crook, it's my turn now

No more cashmere shoulder to lean on

I'll find a new one

Bent, blurring, hues of my home,

my hands and all that shone, now

dimmed things of that damned thief,

our time to come

The fan's blades are not seen to

speed, just a prank by physics' need

to get around the spinning dials

on your arm

So flash your teeth girl, half glass

ajar, cigarette's smoke in sight, light

shadow's languid light to shine you

what I'm about

The sand in my pocket is dry milk

powdered by your wonder of a new

belief, some mix of love, tease,

and another drink

— doorman, Dec 13, 2009

About the Author

Country/Region: NOR

Critiques

Breakinglogic

16 years 6 months ago

This seemed very playful to

This seemed very playful to me as I read it, and of course your flow is prestine. I could not find any fault here, well strung

doorman

16 years 6 months ago

Thanks for your compliment,

Thanks for your compliment, breakingLogic. Happy you liked it. I have a feeling I'll need to edit this one after it has 'marinated' a little. We'll see. Best regards, Espen.

Seren

16 years 6 months ago

This made perfect sense to me but there is one bit playing in my head I'll let it ferment and come back this evening ... just one suggestion of change I would make but i am looking for the right word ... bbl :) love and hugs Jayne x

doorman

16 years 6 months ago

Thanks, Jayne. If you do

Thanks, Jayne. If you do find something, I'm all ears. Have a good evening, Espen.

Kailashana

16 years 6 months ago

I wanted to read your poem,

I wanted to read your poem, yesterday then got sidetracked. First of all it is written by you, second the title is so....fresh. So, other than that what can I say that won't sound like nails on a .... Smile. ~Anna Don’t let your victories go to your head, or your failures go to your heart.

doorman

16 years 6 months ago

Dear Anna

and so a smile is returned with a 'thanks for reading'. Yours, Espen.

Nordic cloud

16 years 5 months ago

decanted decadence, how about that?

I am supping at your table this evening Espen aren't I? And here you serve a strange table of things yet again, What school of cookery did you attend Sir? Oh goodness and you used the word marinated and I wrote the first line here even before I read the poem! Are you sure its no more dangerous than that? Definitely decadent this one, decanted decadence, how about that? Espen from Ann

doorman

16 years 5 months ago

Doormen tend to eat out, and

Doormen tend to eat out, and drink when they're not working. Decadent? Oh, yes. Thanks for reading, Regards, Espen.

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