A while ago I happened upon Magpie Tales, a weekly writing exercise organized and guided
by a writer named Tess Kincaid. Her blog, Life at Willow Manor, has become somewhat of a muse for me. There is a constant outpouring of writing and photography at The Manor and I find it all very intriguing. Tess's weekly Magpie Tales writing share is a fun place to play with words. That being said, I must say that when I write poetry, I write s-l-o-w-l-y. I revisit pieces that I’ve begun over and over searching for
just the right word or turn of phrase or ... oh, I don’t know. A piece has to
feel right after a complete 'read through', before I can leave it alone and consider it
complete. Take the piece below. I have worked on "Miss Spent Youth" for a couple
months. It came from looking at and thinking about the photo prompt of Andy shopping for his infamous soup cans,
but it made me associate with a young woman caught up in the scene at The
Factory … a confused and self-destructive young woman. There were more than a
few that hooked themselves up with that wild crowd – Edie Sedgewick comes to mind. That
free association became the impetus for "Miss Spent Youth". Perhaps I’ll work on
it some more, but right now, it feels okay to me.
Photo Credit – Bob Adelman 1965
Miss Spent Youth
It was all so red and white
The lines were razor straightJust like Warhol
And soon the edges blurred
Garbled voices like supermarket banter
The sound system crackling and musicSomewhere in the mix
The Factory rumbled on at breakneck
Afterward I railed and writhed
Staring back at a party gone wrongBorne away … a sad comment
On avant angst and avarice
Glad you found Magpie Tales. I sometimes contribute at Strummed Words
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