Just fine

So fine, so good, handshake

grips with gibes know no tale but

gain,- a fabulous and sore smell

seen on the lap of someone's hip,

sharp stilts, nose stings, and a

smile that would charm a mime to

chills, prostrate below the spleen

as secrets spill the guarantee of

tricks to stay alive and fail

for fun

For dust.

— doorman, Mar 28, 2010

About This Poem

About the Author

Country/Region: NOR

Critiques

Seren

16 years 2 months ago

Dear Espen

This is a profound read ... seriously read it five times and everytime my mind found another meaning ... the joy of your words, is we can take ourselves to where ever we want you leave the door open we just have to walk through (no pun intended lol) love JayCee x x

doorman

16 years 2 months ago

Concealing and revealing

It's funny how we lose control of some writes in the eyes of others. I'm glad for your feedback here, and I think I'll keep the meaning of this poem to myself to let you keep the feeling of wonder. If you like, I could tell you, but I suspect it might dull the write for you. And, as always, your attention is greatly appreciated. The door's always open. Yours, Espen.

lyz

16 years 2 months ago

Dear Espen

I too, like Jayne read many a meaning, and knowing u and your clever concealing writes we will have to wait for an explanation, lol. One line though, seen on the lap of someones hip, now my imagination could run with this or say I dont understand this one, but I have a friend who has a bag and it sometimes is on his lap instead of by his hip because of his chair, it is sometimes in his way. Well any way, as usual, you intrigue. Good one. XX

doorman

16 years 2 months ago

Dear Lyz

There are a few strange things with this one, so it can fly off in all directions. Your association with the lap/hip line is great. I couldn't stop myself,- the rhyme in your comment, and the riddle.. I have a friend who has a bag sometimes on his lap instead of his hip because of his chair sometimes in his way What hip, what chair? the bag's still there, sometimes on the lap instead of the hip Anyway, thanks for reading, Lyz. Yours, Espen.

lyz

16 years 2 months ago

Dear Espen

A wheelchair. Sorry, I did not make that clear. Anyway, I love your poetry and when you come back and read, you think you have it but no, lol. I am glad you couldnt stop, lol. Love Lyz. XX

Ross Hamilton Hill

16 years 2 months ago

hi D'man

i posted a comment but must have pressed the wrong button, to reiterate, liked this, liked the puzzling element of not quite knowing the meaning. bad idea to ever explain a poem, the riddle is part of it's magic.

doorman

16 years 2 months ago

Mr. Hill

Thanks for reading. Yes, I've burned myself a few times trying to explain a write to a curious friend or two. The worst interpreter of my own poetry seems to be the one looking back at me in the mornings. Glad you liked the write, Respectfully, Espen.