Mine To Deface

She was a woman

painted on a stone-cold wall

Mural was her name.

She was art on concrete,

on an ugly street

Filling an empty space.

A woman, mid-stretch,

a yoga pose in place.

Nothing provocative

in the quiet lines of her face,

sealed in cement, no pulse or breath,

nor fleshly heat, a trace.

But she was a woman, all the same,

and even her essence

had to be brought shame.

So the mural was debased

in ways obscene,

while she stood poised, serene

in ever-silent grace.

What kind of hand

must defile a female silhouette,

even an imprint, inert,

What kind of urge

doesn't spare even lifeless lips

and legs, disgrace?

She was a play of chalk and clay

an idea inscribed on stone,

yet still not left alone.

Even as art in purest form

she was meant to deface,

to be told--I can still touch you.

I can still re-draw you

into something dirty.

Even your likeness is mine to efface.

Author's Note

A true story.

Reviews

[MarthaKlokke]

It’s yoga, not Tinder.
She isn’t stretching for you.
She’s stretching into eternity.
Imagine waking up and thinking,
“Today I will sexually harass a wall.”
Sir. Hydrate. Reflect. Lie down.
The mural is calmer than you will ever be.
She inhales forever.
You scribble once and run.

[BuzzyB]

Thank you Martha. This was a significant poem but not enough people appreciated it. But you did.

[JayG]

Because you have context and intent, this works for you. But the story in your head never made to to the page in a coherent fashion—which is why you write from your chair, but must edit from that of the reader, who has only the context you evoke or supply.

Look at this as the reader must:

• He is a lamp post, seen yet unseen.

How can a lamp post be unseen? And having seen Phantom, what does this have to do with that story, as a reader perceives it at this point?

• A street sign no one reads.

How can a street sign be read by no one if it’s where street signs are placed? How can you not read print that’s in your field of vision? “Ignores” might work.

• Like a billboard, he flashes loneliness in neon

Billboards don’t have neon flashing. And as a personal rejection, loneliness is depression and invisibility, not a large sign flashing for attention.

In general, you’re repeating the same thing in different ways. So...you make your point; you reinforce your point; you drive your point home; you drive your point into the ground; you smash your point to smithereens; you... 😆

I get what you’re trying to do, but in looking at this and your other work I see intent, and untrained talent. Your metrical work, for example, ignores structure and prosody, rhyming when convenient, not bystructure—problems that can be resolved with a bit of additional knowledge.

For example, A read of the excerpt from Stephen Fry’s, The Ode Less Traveled will do wonders for your metrical work. And reading Mary Oliver’s, A Poetry Handbook can be a big help for everything else.

Not the news you hoped to hear. I know, but the field has been under refinement for centuries, so take advantage of that. You’ll be amazed at the difference it can make.

[BuzzyB]

Dear JayG,

Thank you for the in-depth review. For taking the time to go through the work and putting down your thoughts and suggestions. I appreciate it!
Your observation regarding the areas I need to work on is well appreciated. I'd love to work on the metrical part, structure and prosody of my writing. Its something that gives me real joy. Only problem is the dearth of time but I do look forward to making time for it and beginning soon. The books you suggested have already been ordered on Amazon today, so thank you for recommending them.

As you said--poetry is an art under constant refinement and I think the more we discuss and share, the better it can get.

[Kenneth The Poet]

This is one of the best poems I've read lately. The flow, the choice of words, the stanza breaks, they're all high quality. I honestly wish I could write something this good.

[BuzzyB]

Your appreciation made it worth the effort. Thank you for such an awesome review, Kenneth!

[SabrinaM]

A slap in the face to these vile intruders who think nothing of killing beauty wherever they find it.

to be told--I can still touch you.
I can still re-draw you
into something dirty.
Even your likeness is mine to efface.

Truthful line. Thank you for sharing your writing

[JessyJacob]

Very beautiful lines of your heart ❤️.
I remembered myself how much I sustained my pain in tough times.
But God gave me strength to face it. Later I realised it was some thing that every woman in her family does.

Thank you for sharing your writing

Jessy Jacob ❤️

[BuzzyB]

Thank you Jessy. I'm very happy for you. You're an inspiration to women. Bless you.

[JessyJacob]

I am


I am thankful to you to feel about women. It's mutual things that each other lack and possess. Such is the relationship between men and women.

Thank you for your wishes.

Jessy Jacob ❤️

[Tania Mo]

Hey this poem deserves a shout. Bravo. And a finger to that pervert.

[BuzzyB]

Thank you Tania. This poem needs more reviews to bring perverts some light.

[Thomas W Case]

This one hits hard and quiet—beauty standing still while the world shows its sickness.
A brutal, necessary poem about control, violation, and how even art isn’t spared.

[BuzzyB]

Thank you Thomas. I'm so happy this poem touched you!

[AJNJ]

Honestly BuzzyBee I've seen it in my area. Don't know why guys do it. I'd beat the s**t out of them if they did it in front of me. Great stuff.

[BuzzyB]

Thank you AJ. Your reviews are very kind to me.