The essence of decadence

A young, bearded man
sitting on a stool
behind a cardboard box, covered with a cloth
typing on an old, black typewriter
in candlelight.

On a sign, the handwritten words:

Free Poems
Poemas Gratis

On the cardboard box, covered with the cloth, in front of the black typewriter                   you notice little triangles of folded up yellowing paper (the only thing I’m still wondering where he got). You wait a few seconds, survey the area, approach the man and say

Puedo?

reaching for a triangle, looking him in the eyes.

Claro

is his smiling answer.
Your lips move into a replying half-smile, you take the triangle and move away. Unfolding the paper you try and remember how it was folded (and promptly forget) then read the few lines.

You read it again. Something inside you shifts. You read it a third time. You turn, to glance at the bearded man, but he is intently typing and does not look up.

You put the paper in your pocket (not triangled, but folded haphazardly) and walk home, warming it with your hand. As you do, you wonder why you haven’t read poetry in such a long time. What happened? When did you stop? And why? Because now suddenly you feel as if you need more, you need to dig up all those “Feuilles Mortes” and Rumis, Pessoas and Keats and dive into their words so perfectly strung together and sigh as you realize that yes, you actually do like poetry. And isn’t it a wonderful thing.

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About Full Of Daisies

I am permanently in love. Things I like: purple, pasta, silk, autumn, the smell of mould, candles, cachi, having friends, water, new things, rice, eggs (all eggs!), fresh grass, olive trees, shiny things, glitter, hanging objects, windcatchers, wind, couscous, wasabi, carnivores, presents, snow, leaves, orchids, feathers, cappelletti, meat, fruit (all fruit), more del gelso (Morus alba L.), pigs, candles, christmas, polenta fritta!, separating egg whites from yokes in my hands, cartoons, dragons, the ocean, nudibranchi, cows, mercury (the metal), cosmos (the flowers), thunderstorms, Mika, turtles, acquariums, green and blue (mixed), siccamores, spring, snails, 24, porc with a sweet sauce (apple, cranberry, tomatoes jam), looking at a swimming pool upsidedown and underwater, english accent, open-minded people, driving, blue skies, checkered tablecloths, butterflies, books and cartoons in rhyme, painting eggs, the star-shadows that football players have, silver, laughing, Vivaldi, bells and chimes, white and purple, creating. Complete Happiness: Early morning. Sun, with a breeze; a pond with water lilies. A house, with a garden, full of plants. A vegetable patch, lemon, orange and mandarin trees. Cosmos everywhere. Birds in the trees; a tortoise eating the salad from the vegetable patch; a mammal (I couldn’t decide which one would make me happier) close by. No houses for as far as the eye can see. Me, a man that loves me and that I love. Friends coming over for a lunch that I have to prepare, and have all the ingredients for all ready in the kitchen.

3 comments

  1. That is a very, very nice poem. Can we meet this man when I get there?

    Like

  2. I hope so! I need a photo of him…

    Like

  3. Pingback: Tulip Tuesday – decadent | Full Of Daisies

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