gri_2003_m_46_b01_f01_011
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.101
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.055
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- WINNER - 65333315 - not-logged-in-5ff38c4d00b4249a82be
- 65354331 - srasg56
- 65359880 - Judyteen
- 65370895 - sdoes13
- 65385432 - not-logged-in-8f30c343bd4503e74000
- 65433631 - Preacher357
WINNER - 65333315 - not-logged-in-5ff38c4d00b4249a82be
The watering canAnd girls' legs under tables
In out-door caf'es
Crossed obtrusive banners
On the fourteenth of July
How will she read them
Will the shutters' cage
Shadow them Her hands
Be gloved Be dressed
For walking Or nude
But for a comb or ribbon or shoe
Take my poem as the equivalent of Manet's drawings and perhaps the identification won't seem too presumptuous. The real point is in the last six lines, in my curiosity about the reader of the letter. And a small poem, again, rather French: Pour S...
Girl with a boat sailing her hair
Girl with reason on her side
Girl with the manner I adore
She wears a red cloak
It is not a disguise
Her roses her answers
Her silhouettes her crimes
Nude from the head down
Her breasts are built over my heart.
One of the things I've tried to do in the poems 'about you for you' is to exclude complete understanding by another reader by using certain images that mean more to us than anyone else: thus there is a deliberate privacy at one or two points in the sequence. Here you alone will recognise the full reference. To me this means shared authorship in the poems, beyond being their subject.
Your-heart-in-me assures me that yesterday's moods of sadness have not been fatal. My-heart-in-you will tell you that my perplexity, I suppose my obtuseness, does not conflict with my adoration.
I live for Wednesday. St. Pancras is no longer my favorite terminal station. Victoria replaces it. Morning and night at 11,3 (not less prompt than your train itself in arriving) the same image occurs to me. I have just seen you at the iron gate among the anonymous extras. I love you.
Lawrence
65354331 - srasg56
The watering canAnd girls' legs under the tables
In out-door cafes
Crossed obtrusive banners
On the fourteenth of July.
How will she read them
Will the shutters' cage
Shadow them Her hands
Be gloved Be dressed
For walking Or nude
But for a comb or ribbon or shoe
Take my poem as the equivalent of Manet's drawings and perhaps the identification won't seem too presumptious. The real point is in the last six lines, in my curiosity about the reader of the letter. And a small poem, rather French: Pour S...
Girl with a boat sailing her hair
Girl with reason on her side
Girl with the manner I adore
She wears a red cloak
It is not a disguise
Her roses her answers
Her silhouettes her crimes
Nude from the head down
Her breasts are built over my heart.
One of the things I've tried to do in the poems 'about you for you' is to exclude complete understanding by another reader by using certain images that mean more to us than anyone else: thus there is a deliberate privacy at one or two points in the sequence. Here you alone will recognise the full reference. To me this means shared authorship in the poems, beyond being their subject.
Your-heart-in-me assures me that yesterday's moods of sadness have not been fatal. My-heart-in-you will tell you that my perplexity, I suppose my obtuseness, does not conflict with my adoration.
I live for Wednesday. St Pancras is no longer my favourite terminal station. Victoria replaces it. Morning and night at 11.3 (not less prompt than your train itself in arriving) the same image occurs to me. I have just seen you at the iron gate among the anonymous extras. I love you
Lawrence
65359880 - Judyteen
The watering canAnd girls' legs under tables
In out-door caf'es
Crossed obtrusive banners
On the fourteenth of July
How wil she read them
Will the shutters' cage
Shadow them Her hands
Be gloved Be dressed
For walking Or nude
But for a comb or ribbon or shoe
Take my poem as the equivalent of Manet's drawings and perhaps the identification won't seem too presumptious. The real point is in the last six lines, in my curiosity about the reader of the letter. And a small poem, again rather French: Pour S...
Girl with a boat sailing her hair
Girl with reason on her side
Girl with the manner I adore
She wears a red cloak
It is not a disguise
Her roses her answers
Her silhouettes her crimes
Nude from the head down
Her breasts are built over my heart.
One of the things I've tried to do in the poems 'about you for you' is to exclude complete understanding by another reader by using certain images that mean more to us than anyone else: thus there is a deliberate privacy at one or two points in the sequence.
Here you alone will recognise the full reference. To me this means shared authorship in the poems, beyond being their subject.
Your-heart-in-me assures me that yesterday's moods of sadness have not been fatal. My-heart-in-you will tell you that my perplexity, I suppose my obtuseness, does not conflict with my adoration.
I live for Wednesdays. St. Pancras is no longer my favorite terminal station. Victoria replaces it. Morning and night at 11.3 (not less prompt than your train itself arriving) the same image occurs to me. I have just seen you at the iron gate among the anonymous extras. I love you.
Lawrence
65370895 - sdoes13
The watering canAnd girls' legs under tables
In out-door cafes
Crossed obtrusive banners
On the fourteenth of July
How will she read them
Will the shutters' cage
Shadow her hands
Be gloved Be dressed
For walking or nude
But for a comb or ribbon shoe
Take my poem as the equivalent of Manet's drawings and perhaps the identification won't' seem too presumptuous. The real point is in the last six lines, in my curiousity about the reader of the letter. And a small poem, again rather French: Pour S...
Girl with a boat sailing her hair
Girl with reason on her side
Girl with the manner I adore
She wears a red cloak
It is a not a disguise
Her roses her answers
Her Silhouettes her crimes
nude from the head down
Her breasts are built over my heart
One of the things I've tried to do in the poems 'about you for you' is to exclude compete understanding by another reader by using certain images that mean more to us than anyone else: thus there is a deliberate privacy at one or two points in the sequence. Here you alone will recognize the full reference. To me this means shared authorship in the poems, beyond being their subject.
Your-heart-in-me assures me that yesterday's mood of sadness have not been fatal. My-heart-in-you will tell you that my perplexity, I suppose my obtuseness, does not conflict with my adoration.
I live for Wednesday. St. Pancras is not longer my favorite terminal station. Victoria replaces it. Morning and night at 11.3 (not less prompt than your train itself arriving" the same image occurs to me. I have just seen you at the iron gate among the anonymous extras. I love you.
Lawrence
65385432 - not-logged-in-8f30c343bd4503e74000
The watering canAnd girls' legs under tables
In out-door cafes
Crossed obtrusive banners
On the fourteenth of July
How will she read them
Will the shutters' cage
Shadow them Her hands
Be gloved Be dressed
For walking Or nude
But for a somb or ribbon or shoe
Take my poem as the equivalent of manet's drawings and perhaps
the identification won't seem too presumptious. The real point is in the last six lines, in my curiosity about the reader of the letter. And a small poem, again rather French: Pour S. . .
Girl with a boat sailing her hair
Girl with reason on her side
Girl with the manner I adore
She wears a red cloak
It is not a disguise
Her roses her answers
Her silhouettes her crimes
Nude from the head down
Her breasts are built over my heart.
One of the things I've tried to do in the poems 'about you for you' is to exclude complete understanding by another reader by using certain images that mean more to us than anyone else: thus there is a deliberate privacy at one or two points in the sequence. Here you alone will recognise the full reference. To me this means shared authorship in the poems, beyond their subject.
Your-heart-in-me assures me that yesterday's seeds of sadness have not been fatal. My-heart-in-you will tell you that my perplexity, I suppose my obtuseness, does not conflict with my adoration.
I live for Wednesday. St. Pancras is no longer my favorite terminal station. Victoria replaces it. Morning and night at 11.3 (not less prompt than your train itself in arriving) the same image occurs to me. I have just seen you at the iron gate among anonymous extras. I love you.
Lawrence
65433631 - Preacher357
The watering canAnd girls' legs under tables
In out-door cafe's
Crossed the fourteenth of July
How will she read them
Will the shutters' gage
Shadow them Her hands
Be gloved Be dressed
For walking Or nud
But for a comb or ribbon or shoe
Take my poem as the equvalent of Manet's drawings and perhaps
the identification won't seem too presumptious. The real
point is in the last six lines, in my curiosity about the reader
of the letter. And a small poem, again rather French: Pour S...
Girl with a boat sailing her hair
Girl with reason on her side
Girl with the manner I adore
She wears a red cloak
It is not a disguise
Her roses her answers
Her silhousettes her crimes
Nude from the head down
Her breasts are built over my heart.
One of the things I've tried to do in the poems 'about you for you'
is to exclude complete understanding by another reader by using
certain images that mean more to us than anyone else: thus there
is a deliberate privacy at one or two points in the sequence.
Here you alone will recognise the full reference. To me this
means shared authorship in the poems, beyond being their subject.
Your-heart-in-me assures me that yesterday's moods of sadness
have not been fatal. My-heart-in-you will tell you that my per-
plexity, I suppose my obtuseness, does not conflict with my ador-
ation.
I live for Wednesday. St. Pancras is no longer my favorite
terminal station. Victoria replaces it. Morning and night at
11.3 (not less prompt than your train itself in arriving) the
same image occurs to me. I have just seen you at the iron gates
among the anonymous extras. I love you.
Lawrence