Art of Alphonse Mucha

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was not the job
she wanted —
no woman would —
on display on a French
Quarter Balcony,
cigarette, done-up-hair.
But she ate, had nice things,
rare for a girl around here.
Her, on the perch, was the
madam showing off,
she did not take clients
that way; no, she was
special, commanding more
than some passing sailor
could afford.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She wore yellow flowers
in her auburn hair,
but never when she worked,
only on the days she could
get away from the city.
They were fresh and pretty,
reminding her of what she
once was, and hoped to be
again some day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She rarely gave in to tears,
and never, ever, where
another could see, but
sometimes when alone,
and the loneliness, emptiness,
was too much to bear,
and there were no yellow
flowers for her hair.

Advertisements

19 Comments

Filed under Poetry

19 responses to “Art of Alphonse Mucha

  1. This was inspired by a friday prompt from FireBlossom at the Imaginary Garden. The timing just did not work out to get it posted there.
    http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2012/04/fireblossom-friday-6-mucha-artistic.html

  2. Mark, this trio is stunning. What a great idea, and excellent execution. Wonderful.

  3. leahJlynn

    Love the pictures you used the combination of yours made this a great read.
    http://leah-jamielynn.typepad.com/blog/2012/04/watch-read-and-get-inspired.html

  4. lenwilliamscarver

    very beautful and love the way the pictures work with it!

  5. Mark, you really immersed yourself in these paintings – the stories shine through in a wonderfully empathic manner.

  6. Lovely and sad. Well done!

  7. You captured her heartbreak so well…beautiful writing!

  8. hobgoblin2011

    Fantastic. Definitely a contrast of emotion here. pairs up so well with this wonderful pieces of art. Thanks

  9. margaretbednar

    only on the says she could
    get away from the city.

    I think you meant to write “days”. Very sad, and I love the last sketch… is it a Mucha sketch? “On display” is never a good thing. Nice story poem.

  10. tender, lovely, longing and acceptance all at once.

  11. Mark, this poem so saddens me. I think some of these women hope for more at first, can demand more, but in the end life changes them. It is such a lonely life, one I would wish on no one! A fine poetic capture.

  12. rosemary mint

    I love this (and the ending):

    “She wore yellow flowers
    in her auburn hair,
    but never when she worked”

    This reminds me of a Francine Rivers book called Redeeming Love.

  13. Beautiful yet sad ~ I like the image of the yellow flowers in her auburn hair ~

  14. This is story-telling of the most enthralling kind. You captured my interest in the first section, and continued to pull me along with the sense of mystery and tragedy of this one anonymous life. Bravo!

  15. Loved the trilogy of pictures and the storyline to die for. I think you knocked this challenge out of the park and them some. I love the opening lines…and the description swirling with so much color…great stuff.

  16. Sorry I’m late in getting here to read this…I just realized you had done my prompt! I really like this interpretation of the famous rolling papers advert. May I venture an opinion, strictly my own, for whatever it’s worth? I think your poem is finished without the final stanza. The brilliant ending to the second stanza says, poetically, what the final stanza simply seems to “explain.” Never explain, darling! That’s my motto!

    I wonder what Evelyn Nesbit, who was undoubtedly the “real” JOB girl, would think about this poem. “Discovered” by painters at 16, she was the original supermodel, circa 1900. Her story is a sad one. Her strangely modern beauty didn’t really bring her much happiness.

    • No worries; I was 3 days late posting, so you are right on time. Always venture opinions, I love the feedback. And I do believe you are correct on this one. I wanted to include that last sketch, but could have done so without the last stanza. It is overkill. Thank you!

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s