One Shoot Sunday and The Door–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

“One Stop Poetry Challenge – the Photography of Fee Easton

Today we welcome back no stranger to One Shoot Sunday. UK photographer Fee Easton was featured back in March. Her interview with Chris G. and picture prompt challenge for that day proved very inspiring to many of us.

Since talking to her via Twitter, she has offered her work to our community to allow poets a greater choice for poetic creation, thus presenting a challenge from which participants may choose from five of her amazing photographs.”

One Stop, Challenge Time!

Option 4

Option 4 One Shoot Sunday May 15, 2011--by Fee Easton

The Door

Rusted metal

Arrested function

Pistons heat frozen

Viscosity
Erected long ago
Sluggish
Remembrance

Fleck
Fire
Flame
Into form
Blazoned
Hot breath
Shimmering through
Old creases

Drop
Moist
The old man’s eye
Trained, placed against that old tree

Settle back
Creaky chair by the porch
Gazing

At the door

–elisabeth connelley


14 thoughts on “One Shoot Sunday and The Door–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

  1. Brian mentions the flow, and I agree it has staccato fluidity in short lines hinting at many layers from mechanical to human. Excellent challenge response!

    Like

  2. Thank you all for reading and sharing! I sat on my fingers to prevent myself from directing thinking about what I wrote.

    The poem involves many levels about aging, particularly with males. The first idea and story line involves the type of person that tends to horde things, as the things trigger fond memories and sharing of history. Think of the yard strewn with old and rusting objects. This man had a love of cars, and all that remains(ed) is one rusty door propped against a tree in his yard. But, that one door, is a doorway to his heyday, still present not just memory, but the clinging to the door.

    The second idea merges male virility and expression through cars and other such things. It’s a story of impotence and rare moments of memory that seem to cause the ‘plumbing’ to work and ecstatic joy over one twitch of arousal and one drop of damp awakening, so amazing as to even bring a tear of joy to the man’s eye. I like to build erotic ideas inside of the normal and mundane. Each reader will see it or not, based upon how they look upon life, and decode messages–face value, or underneath.

    Our elders have so many amazing things to share with us. How to enjoy and to cherish and the why are some of them.

    Like

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