HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8153
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD
They called him ‘the impaler’, for he impaled women’s hearts
like captured butterflies for a collectors prize.
He feasted on their offerings, drained the colour from their souls
then ignored them for soiled goods he did despise.
When fresh and sweetly innocent, and untouched by human kind
they held attraction to this evilest of men,
but once they withered on the vine in his myopic pale blue eyes
they were not worthy of his time again.
One wet Sunday in winter the moment of truth arrived
when he gazed into a shop fronts misty glass
and saw reflected there an older man, gray haired and paunchy,
all alone - an old stallion - turned out to grass.
The strong glossy physique of which he had been proud and vain
was no longer there – it had faded away.
No young filly pranced beside him as he walked the city streets
and he knew not one now who with him would stay.
His days were gathering dust just like a butterfly collection,
the lofty star now a dry star set to implode.
All he had left were memories and fuzzy recollections.
Moment of truth – seems he had passed his use by code.
Maureen Clifford © 05/11
They called him ‘the impaler’, for he impaled women’s hearts
like captured butterflies for a collectors prize.
He feasted on their offerings, drained the colour from their souls
then ignored them for soiled goods he did despise.
When fresh and sweetly innocent, and untouched by human kind
they held attraction to this evilest of men,
but once they withered on the vine in his myopic pale blue eyes
they were not worthy of his time again.
One wet Sunday in winter the moment of truth arrived
when he gazed into a shop fronts misty glass
and saw reflected there an older man, gray haired and paunchy,
all alone - an old stallion - turned out to grass.
The strong glossy physique of which he had been proud and vain
was no longer there – it had faded away.
No young filly pranced beside him as he walked the city streets
and he knew not one now who with him would stay.
His days were gathering dust just like a butterfly collection,
the lofty star now a dry star set to implode.
All he had left were memories and fuzzy recollections.
Moment of truth – seems he had passed his use by code.
Maureen Clifford © 05/11
Last edited by Maureen K Clifford on Thu May 05, 2011 12:08 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
-
- Posts: 1062
- Joined: Thu Apr 14, 2011 11:33 am
- Location: Tumut, NSW
Re: HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
I like it Maureen, seeing my reflection in a shop front will never be the same.
Sue
Sue
the door is always open, the kettles always on, my shoulders here to cry on, i'll not judge who's right or wrong.
-
- Posts: 6946
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2010 12:08 pm
- Location: Here
Re: HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
.... them for he now them did despise.
Sorry to be a pain Maureen, but I stumbled over this line. Perhaps there's a way it can be said without changing the normal syntax,
Myopic means shortsighted. I was wondering if you intended to use a term related to mesmerising or hypnotic.
Sorry to be a pain Maureen, but I stumbled over this line. Perhaps there's a way it can be said without changing the normal syntax,
Myopic means shortsighted. I was wondering if you intended to use a term related to mesmerising or hypnotic.
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8153
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
Re: HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
Thanks Sue - don;t go getting paranoid
I have altered that line Neville - it bothered me to - so I think this is a bit better. No I definitely wanted myopic as in his approach to women was extremely shortsighted by having a use and abuse mentality he ended up on his own with no one who cared for him at all.
Cheers
Maureen

I have altered that line Neville - it bothered me to - so I think this is a bit better. No I definitely wanted myopic as in his approach to women was extremely shortsighted by having a use and abuse mentality he ended up on his own with no one who cared for him at all.
Cheers
Maureen
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
-
- Posts: 6946
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2010 12:08 pm
- Location: Here
Re: HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
Fair enough. Sorry.
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
- Maureen K Clifford
- Posts: 8153
- Joined: Tue Nov 09, 2010 10:31 am
- Location: Ipswich - Paul Pisasale country and home of the Ipswich Poetry Feast
- Contact:
Re: HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
Nothing to be sorry for Neville - do you maybe think that it doesn't work???? I am trying to show not tell
and tend to be a bit myopic myself. Interested in whether you think it still isn't right.

Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
-
- Posts: 6946
- Joined: Sun Oct 31, 2010 12:08 pm
- Location: Here
Re: HOISTED BY HIS OWN PETARD.
I try to avoid suggesting words to use, but what about
" then ignored them as..( something, something ) ......to despise " what do you think of that. I'll leave it to you to think what might fit in between.
" then ignored them as..( something, something ) ......to despise " what do you think of that. I'll leave it to you to think what might fit in between.
Neville
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.
" Prose is description, poetry is presence " Les Murray.