A Vase In The Corner

Lilies opened into the outer room.
They almost overshadowed the entire place.
It was there in bright recesses the talk
Began, the colors, the aromas filling what
They knew of life with urgent, direct
Fragrance, now where they recall each moment.

A conversation erupted between
A stray image of Monet and his sincere strokes,
Dark talk and dark weathered ideas. In their
Makeshift vase, it is a question of intentions,
Who to turn to when beauty's a problem.

Any two words can be an oxymoron.
The corner, now inhabited by growth,
Comes at them in a way that's inescapable;
A duel to the (near) death of screeds, like
The corner itself produces a miracle.

by Lamont Palmer

Comments (5)

Hi Lamont. I'm scrolling through the forums just for the pleasure of reading. This work is very readable, but I'd suggest that you adjust your word processor so that you are in charge of the capitalisation. Meaningful sentences are losing their flow. Take charge of your own enjambement. Good Luck.
Each time i read one of your poems i can see a vivid picture in my head of each thing you describe and its amazing. very lovely
If not a pun, why not fix duel. (?)
a good write Lamont. your opening stanza a delight to read
A poem of great intensity. This really gets a person to do some deep thinking. You have taken me there with this one Lamont. Thanks for sharing.