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The Sunday Poem: The Smile

March 5th, 2006 (Visited 6026 times) Tags: metric verse

She wore it like a sundress: loose
  And casual, unashamed of all
There was beneath. It fit, like blue
  Fits water — clinging close, a fall
Of folds and shining white. It dressed
  Her, danced her, light and lonely, held
Her in herself, contained her, less
  Than kisses, more than faces will.
She was no person. Her smile enclosed
  Her, was her; smiles do that, steal
Your body, take your eyes. She knows
  It happened; yes, it came off, sheer
And casual like a sundress, quick
  And lonely for an instant, not
A person, making love to lack.
  She ran away; she knew, she thought,
How smiles are, how waterfalls
  Splinter on rocks, how blue can fill
The eyes — how right she was — that all
  Smiles kiss more than true faces will.

It was some girl, in a stairwell, in grad school, I think. We passed briefly, I nodded, she smiled this blinding smile. She really did look scared after her smile, like she shouldn’t have smiled quite so openly, and she quickly ducked her head and walked away very quickly. Maybe she thought I was someone else.

And even in the instant, I realized I couldn’t picture her face at all, what she looked like, any aspect of her — just the smile, like it was an entity that has possessed her body for an instant. And even though the smile struck me as utterly genuine — more genuine than most smiles, any way — it also therefore was lying, because most smiles aren’t genuine, and because to smile like that was not an indication of the way the world usually really is.

So I ended up with this moment of “truth” that felt like it didn’t belong, because the world usually sucks. What do you do with something like that? Write a poem, I guess.

Technical note: yeah, this is actually a formal poem — rhymes and meter and everything.

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Grimwell said on March 5th, 2006 at 3:44 pm:

I’m torn on this one. I like the words, imagery, and flow of it all – but reading it as a poem left some transitions (between lines) feeling awkward. When I read it as descriptive narrative, the formality suddenly becomes life hidden inside the paragraph and don’t distract as much. Which gets interesting parts of my brain working – hiding poetry inside of narrative, with small tweaks to make it work could be an interesting technique for writing.

Don’t take that as a negative statement friend. I like it, the entire image, it fits what your explanation states even without that explanation.

Michael Chui said on March 5th, 2006 at 4:13 pm:

I was taught, though I haven’t quite managed to make it a habit, that you should read a poem straight, as if the line breaks weren’t there, and care for the periods and comma and punctuation marks as if it were prose.

Raph said on March 5th, 2006 at 4:52 pm:

That’s right, in the case of formal poetry at least. (in free vese, often the line breaks are used as punctuation).

So in this case, this poem ought to be read this way, probably (I inserted some paragraph breaks where it felt like they fit):

She wore it like a sundress: loose and casual, unashamed of all there was beneath. It fit, like blue fits water — clinging close, a fall of folds and shining white. It dressed her, danced her, light and lonely, held her in herself, contained her, less than kisses, more than faces will.
She was no person. Her smile enclosed her, was her; smiles do that, steal your body, take your eyes. She knows it happened; yes, it came off, sheer and casual like a sundress, quick and lonely for an instant, not a person, making love to lack.
She ran away; she knew, she thought, how smiles are, how waterfalls splinter on rocks, how blue can fill the eyes — how right she was — that all smiles kiss more than true faces will.

Tiny Froglet said on March 6th, 2006 at 9:17 am:

Lovely. The use of slant rhyme instead of straight here creates the same feeling of skew that the experience seemed to provide for you — what actually was vs. what should be. Nice form following sense.

Grimwell said on March 7th, 2006 at 12:23 pm:

Ahhh, see now that really helps. I had very little exposure to the formalities and mechanics of poetry. In fact I can really only remember one time we actively studied poetry, in the 10th grade. When I was in the 4th grade we learned Haiku.

Odd now that I think of it all.

The Sunday Poem: The Smile

6 Responses to “The Sunday Poem: The Smile”

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