Diva Heart in Denial
Her heart was not one that accepts age as
progress toward wisdom a crown of silver
Hot flashes were mere preludes
In tinny wraps, her stylish tinted glints of
highlights, long tresses still brisking bare shoulders
in waves of tragic peroxide passion
The insidious flaps under arms, on her belly,
her lazy limbs and gut splitskinned and resewn
A Bonwit Teller Raggedy Ann
French tip the perfect nails; affix false lashes:
Color her vivid. Boy Toy Nick not allowed to drift far
He stands flexed, assurance of her youth, her comeliness
She will not go gentle into that good night
but brittle, breakable, frightened, but
always with a mirror at hand
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For the Sunday Whirl (Wordle belw; thanks, Brenda!) and Trifecta, which wanted a poem about heart as personality or disposition. Also at my poetic salon, where we’re all GORgeous, Poets United. I’ve known women of means who have had their faces lifted so many times, their noses begin to turn inside out, a slight ring around each nostril.
Aug 22, 2012 @ 12:54:40
Great one!
Very poignant.
Aug 22, 2012 @ 12:54:42
I like how defiant this is to be feminine and sassy. There’s tremednous depth is (her) fighting the fight.
This reminds me of my daughters, especially the youngest
Aug 22, 2012 @ 13:30:09
Yes, keep the fight going anyhoo!
Aug 22, 2012 @ 13:52:26
aging gracefully….a bit of any oxymoron doncha think?
Aug 22, 2012 @ 15:07:14
Isn’t disgracefully more fun? You know you’ve gone too far when the navel becomes a nostril!
Aug 22, 2012 @ 15:36:55
ha….i hope i age gracefully….today i entered my last year in the 30s…ugh…where did time go…oh yeah there it is…in the crease corner of my eye…and the few pounds i need to drop…ha….
Aug 22, 2012 @ 15:37:02
Whoowee! You blasted the doors off with that one! The ending is absolutely fantabulous–you know how to call it
Aug 22, 2012 @ 20:58:50
Real good writing here
Aug 23, 2012 @ 00:28:15
There are so many good phrases in here (chuckled at the tragic peroxide passion). It’s only a matter of time before she brings out the big guns (botox and silicone
)
Aug 23, 2012 @ 07:39:07
Made me think of the film Brazil..grey and arm flaps are badges of honour..jae
Aug 23, 2012 @ 10:35:29
Great last line, and so much good language throughout. Well done.
Aug 23, 2012 @ 12:17:56
Oh this is so well captured…but what is really scary is the inside-out nose! Yoiks!!!!!
Aug 23, 2012 @ 15:38:23
I love her attitude. And all those descriptive words provide great imagery.
Aug 23, 2012 @ 16:28:00
What incredible sadness there is in this piece. The fight to achieve immortality can look so ridiculous to those that accept life is beautiful in all it’s seven ages. Is a wrinkle less worthy of love that a baby’s smile? Your words were so telling.
Aug 23, 2012 @ 19:06:47
So sad. Amy, you really have a gift…your characters are so see-able. Well written.
Aug 23, 2012 @ 21:39:53
ouch!
I’ve entered my 7th decade and I either accept nature’s joke or behave like your lady of the poem. I choose to accept because I am well-loved and that’s more important than what the mirror reflects back to my eyes.
My blog is http://scrappygrams.blogspot.com
Aug 24, 2012 @ 00:20:32
I love the way I could picture the underneath her from your words. The old, stretched, broken down, scared her. Nice work. Thanks for linking up. Be sure to come back tomorrow for the new prompt.
Aug 24, 2012 @ 01:12:40
Wonderful imagery ~ your words describe a simple truth ~ we see her through your words, sad yet identifiable
Aug 24, 2012 @ 07:47:29
just love that last verse. That’s me as I edge on 50!
Aug 24, 2012 @ 11:26:47
Aging is a process, the same for everybody. Whether we can age decently and gracefully maintaining our dignity is of significance.This may appear strange but I’ve seen the debilitating effects of dementia that makes me want to puke. It may turn out to be a lot of things unhygienic. Great imagery Amy!
Hank
Aug 25, 2012 @ 11:56:53
I do know some like your Mme. I like how you used ‘Nick’. New words out, but I’m not looking until I glance at a few more from last week…
I shall not go gently – but I shall leave the mirror at home.
I’m here (rather last week anyway):
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/2012/08/sw-70-feathers-flights-and-foundlings.html
Aug 27, 2012 @ 03:13:43
I echo what Old Egg said, there is a bit of sadness here. A losing fight is sad to me, I guess. Verses two and three were fantastically built, deprecating but defiant.
Aug 27, 2012 @ 06:58:23
I could really picture this woman, Amy. A sad caricature. I truly do not know why women do ALL these things to themselves thinking that they become more attractive. I think, for the most part, they all the falseness makes them look like cartoon characters. Methinks they have too much time and money on their hands and hang around with the wrong people! Smiles.
Aug 27, 2012 @ 09:51:07
This is such a topical theme, and coincidentally I saw a picture of Sylvester Stallone’s mother in a magazine today. Apparently she is 90, but is trying to look like someone in their 30s. It’s a travesty of nature.
Aug 27, 2012 @ 13:05:58
Amy,
I can only conclude that the subject in your poem must be a celebrity, possibly Z-lister:) Such a pre-occupation these days, while trying to halt the progress of nature.
I could see the sad image as I read your poem.
Eileen
Aug 27, 2012 @ 18:11:09
I sing professionally in the classical world–you have hit the nail on the head–unfortunately–it is a sad world for the aging diva
Aug 27, 2012 @ 23:26:12
The dewy, soft, taught skin of youth fades entirely too quickly but resolve to be alive to witness another day. Red lipstick doesn’t stick any more. Mascara can’t find eyelashes. Facts unattractive to reality…
Sep 02, 2012 @ 23:58:16
French tip perfect nails and the lashes – i think i know her