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Edward Hopper






Edward Hopper




A hotel lobby

inhabited by solitude,

impersonal arrivals nameless departures.

a clock stops as time passes.



no one communicates.

just unsigned promises,

broken words no one speaks,

only spirits listen.



woman in a window.

room unfurnished by love

unrequited and unrestored,

as blinds of life unroll.

  

A working office

filing a cabinet of strangers

written out of life,

a typewriter no consolation.



A drug store window.

products postpone death

dispensed in a package

light and shade unwrapped.



Nighthawks Cafeteria

of coffee insomniacs,

isolated on a corner

awoken by the night.



Interior of theatre.

rapport a vacant seat

a disembodied intermission

only actors talk.



dead living cities

of un-walked sidewalks,

posthumous jolts to

the surface of life.



gas station route 6

a landmark unredeemed by distance

a voyage into history

but where and whose?




Alan Ford





I have been writing poetry for several months. (previously I had several books published). This is the second poem I have written in free verse. The first one, Psychopath, was accepted by Down in the Dirt literary magazine, appearing in next September issue. I tend to write about unusual subjects rather than traditional ones. So I am hoping to find an empathetic source.

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3 Comments

  1. I like your style and your subject matter. Being a Hopper fan, I can see his paintings in your words. I particularly love the line, "products postpone death"! Great job.

    PS - something you may be interested in, the movies of German director Wim Wenders. He's a big Hopper fan and in some of his movies, some scenes, you'll swear you're looking at a Hopper painting.

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    1. Apologies for the delay in responding. I haven't gone viral, more virus. Thanks for your comment. My style and subject matter haven't gone viral either. So I'm really pleased you appreciate it. Us scriblers need positivity to cope with all the rejections.

      Didn't notice Wenders. I'll look out for it.

      Regards

      Alan

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  2. Silent chuckle the other day. The editor is dead serious about titles that have meaning or poetic grace. I thought "someone's name as a title?" Until i googled it and discovered it was an amazing painter. And the editor was right, it's not used often, maybe never, and fits the poem. You did it justice, sir.

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