Aubade in Borrowed Bling


I hate the world today, and yet you have tried to tie
a bow on it, wrap it all up in confetti and song. Why

not a singing telegram, a fruit basket bouquet, some
blinking lights and a flocked evergreen wreath? Shall

we carol it into dusk? Please, peel back all this sparkle
-spangled skin, until it’s back to its old gray husk.





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7 Responses to Aubade in Borrowed Bling

  1. Misky says:

    Love where you’ve placed the enjambments.

  2. Sabio Lantz says:

    Wow, I didn’t know the word “aubade” — wiki tells me about a morning poem to a sleeping lover, but google images tells me something much more sensuous. Which did you mean?

    I never think of “the world” — in that there are many little worlds all over the planet — some horrible, some wonderful and all shifting. And I know people have been lamenting “The World” for millennium. I wonder if it is our tendency to generalize and see our age as unique that breeds that mentality.

    Yet I like the firmness, the chastising in your poem — it is something your lover could possibly respond to and bring out a middle position, and some re-uniting love, perhaps wearing Aubade.

    • whimsygizmo says:

      An aubade can be any poem or song appropriate to early morning. 😉 I like your ponderings here (and shouldn’t poems always be pondered?)…I believe this piece can go either way (sensuous or not), and could even be talking to the day itself, or to its Creator, as He brings in birdsong, sunshine, anything that just might annoy a person resolved to being angry. 😉

      • Sabio Lantz says:

        Interesting, that. (though I hope no Creator makes the day — such horrible days all over the planet for so many, many people — that would be a horribly mean Creator.)

        You said, “and shouldn’t poems always be pondered?”:

        I try to write most of my poems so they don’t need to be pondered but instead, felt deeply.

        Nonetheless, many people apparently feel like you that “being a poem” is all about “being vague”. See the side quotes in my blog, if you are interested, for poets who disagree.

        Matter of taste, for sure. There is nothing Poetry SHOULD be, for sure.

      • whimsygizmo says:

        I do enjoy a more old-school way, as well, sometimes, but I guess as somewhat of a gypsy soul, pondering IS how I feel deeply. As you said, a matter of taste, and it takes all the crayons in the box to delight the world.

  3. Mama Zen says:

    This is outstanding!

  4. Grace says:

    Love the aubade enjambment De ~

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