Other № 72477
Belgium and rose tears
I fifteen then
and Belgium was beautiful.
My mothers apartment
happened to be located between
the two rivers of Liege,
with a perfect view from the gallery.
One could see the bridge, cafes,
and the many different boats
gliding across the grey waters.
My eyes were not occupied
with such sights though, since
Chantal took to her guilt
with a glass of gin again.
It was strange to see her
in that condition- what I mean
is she was not lashing out,
which is what I was used to.
She sat in her floral couch
crying in silence, and looking to me
for an answer- to what,
I might never know.
Lee, when I was sick as a little girl
my father would buy a small cake,
and pour milk over it- so I could
swallow it, my throat was.. whats
the word for it again?
Sore?
She was silent for a moment,
then barely nodded, sniffling.
You know, its the only memory
I have of him, thats good...
Why doesn't he answer my letters?
Why does he send back my gifts Lee?
Why?
I stood there, unable to answer
feeling uncomfortable since
I was used to avoiding her
when she got in such a state-
Memory recalled how unstable she is
at such moments.
She so desperately wanted me to
show some sort of affection.
She needed comfort, and I trembled
tempted to turn away and leave- but
my shaky arms embraced her slowly
taking a seat by her, letting her sway
in my arms.
A few minutes later she pulled away
and asked me to bring her a blanket.
After that she laid out right there
on that old thing, covered herself
and asked that I leave her in peace.
I started on my way to a cafe, her voice
paused me a moment,
Lee, thank you... so much,
I... I'm sorry.
Its ok mamman, its ok.
25 comments
Would be a nice bit within a short story, I'm sure.
Rose tears just happens to be the one of my few good memories of her- visiting her in belgium after having not spoken to her in 3 years after my father divorced her. I figured she deserved to have one of the few good moments posted- since everything else I've written concerning her isnt at all flattering.
You are the biggest dunce in the whole world!!?!??!!!
Toodles
pretentious? well dark, my memories are not hopefull longings, imaginary wishes. i find it pompouse of you to think yourself capable of determining whether or not it is. Why not keep your opinion to yourself when it comes to my personal writes? Because i have no desire to discuss it with you, of all people.
I don't wish to discuss my posts concerning childhood memories of my mother/father with you- you can bother me with your inane slandering on my other poetry to your hearts desire. Simply put, I don't want to debate about whether my memories are "guff" or not, specially since you commented such just to prey on a touchy post of mine.
Oh, and repeatedly saying im stupid and a failure will never have the effect your aiming for darkie- nor will it make such comments fact. Your Monumentally Obsessed, over me.. and was it not you who boasted about me becoming to emotionaly captured over yourself? Its amazing how things actually turn out.
And I've done MUCH more than just ramble on with you over the little arguements you bring up- your not the center of my poemranker universe.
The issue at hand is that you posted your PERSONAL writes on a public poetry ranking website, so one can only assume you want people to tell you what they think of them. In truth, you don't want to know what people think of them - you just want people to say they like them. Perhaps there should be another poeme category - next to "Pimple" - called "Personal". "Personal" writes are deemed to be above all scrutiny, and any ranker who reads said "Personal" write is obliged to post either a single, laudatory comment or nothing at all. What to you think about that, fucknut?
If someone else wanted to say something bad- then fine, but not you. You have irritated me to a point, that i really don't want to hear it anymore... yes, your that annoying, and you comment on pieces like this just to annoy me- meaning YOUR input is worthless.
thats what i think, shithead- and thats the TRUTH- not what you think it is, the real truth.
REPEAT: this is about YOU- not anyother ranker here-so get that in your miniscule brain.
(i) An X Kiev is an outer shell, consisting of pulped X coated in breadcrumbs, surrounding some Y.
(ii) In the case of Chicken Kiev, we obviously instantiate X with "Chicken" and Y with that white sauce they put in the middle.
(iii) A Scotch Egg is in fact the same as a Sausage Kiev with Y instantiated with "Egg"
(iv) Let L be the language consisting of the set of all English words U {kiev}. The word "Scotch Egg" is redundant with respect to L.
http://ma-natalie.com/gifts.html
Assuming that you had to buy one item from Natalie's Marriage Agency, which of the following items would you buy?
(a) The wine called "Bastardo"
(b) The wine called "Last Supper"
(c) A chocolate squirrel
(d) A pie made from "crepitating globules"
(e) A wife
(f) A sausage kiev
Feel free to browse at http://ma-natalie.com
The underlying assumption made by -=Dark_Angel=- is that an X Kiev is 'an outer shell, consisting of pulped X, coated in breadcrumbs, surrounding some Y'. This argument, however, is false. Y is not specifically declared, and thus must be global. All references to Kiev must therefore use the same Y. A sausage Kiev, therefore, is and outer shell consisting of pulped sausage (surely simply sausage meat - another logical slip perhaps; Is a sausage or part thereof actually pulped?) coated in breadcrumbs surrounding some white sauce that they put in the middle. This is quite different to a scotch egg.
It is worth noting that when Kiev is instantiated with no argument the default output is a city in Eastern Europe that is neither pulped nor surrounded by breadcrumbs, thus Kiev is overloaded and the implicit assumption that a Sausage Kiev would be similar to a Chicken Kiev is questionable. Sausage Kiev may well be a city surrounded by pulped sausage. This area would benefit from further research.
Kiev() is not overloaded, as 'Kiev' is not a function, it is a pointer to a city in eastern Europe. The language describing the universe has separate namespaces for functions and variables.
As for your concern about whether it should be a sausage Kiev or, perhaps, a Pork Kiev, ask yourself this: Is a chicken or part thereof actually pulped in the manufacture of a chicken Kiev?
As for your third paragraph, however, it simply depends on the quality of the kiev. Mechanically separated chicken or lovingly hand made fillet/breast creations? I think you ponderings on the nature of Kiev(x), will be greatly helped by you seeking out more lovingly hand made examples.
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