2 days in Paris by Claudia Schoenfeld
the cobblestones are wet from rain
when suddenly staccato of stiletto heels
a glimpse of garter tantalize
as do the whiteness of her moonlit breast
in confidence she leaves her john
approaching with a smile
a grin revealing rotting teeth
abhorring me with needle marks
she cannot hide, I shake my head
and she swears in French
her crimson painted mouth
opens like a cave of meat
a receptacle for discarded semen
and I resolutely cross the street
I turn my eyes – towards the steely dame
and I dance tonight
a night in Paris –
a night in Paris – better safe
dancing with my iron dame
than meet my destiny with
nightshade butterflies
—
Today at dVerse poetics Mary want us to write poetry to Claudia’s wonderful sketches. I selected the one from Paris. To some extent my poem is inspired by a song by 10CC I loved as young. If you have time I have attached the video, also I recall the feeling of meeting with prostitutes when walking various cities, so this is an encounter I could have had.
September 2, 2014
Björn Rudbergs writings 
beautifully-written!
Many thanks..
Oh yes, indeed, Bjorn. I do think that the safer and better choice would be to dance with the iron dame. Her allure is ageless.
better dance with an iron dame than an iron maiden 🙂
well you made a wise choice…a meat mouth cave…shivers…oy…rather breaks my heart where she is…something happened to get her there…you just dont make that decision…
It’s heartbreaking, but when you meet a lady like that, you cringe and leave..
smiles.. the iron dame is a good dancer you know… the mouth like a meat cave… goodness…gave me the chills…ha
paris is a magical city…
and like all magic places the allure lies in both darkness and light.
Bjorn, It sounds like the poor woman is a bit past her prime to say the least. Good piece and well written.
I think it’s a profession that wears you down.
Nice. And … Ooh lala!
>
Ooh lala 🙂 indeed.
cringing at the vivid visuals but such a great write.
cringing is good in cases like this.
And better an iron dame than an iron lady! On a more serious tone, big cities do attract prostitutes from all parts of the world and the shady men who exploit them.
Exactly.. and the john is one of those shady men..
å terrific poem, brother, about a horrific subject; the prostitutes, not Paris. No way to get a jump on this prompt; even Claudia & Brian have not put one of theirs up yet–& if I just pick one of her other sketches from her site, I might get spanked.
Glenn, just follow the link to Claudia’s site and choose any of her sketches.. 🙂
Good decision Bjorn ~ You have painted the seductress well ~ There are shady people we would rather avoid ~
And shady people we would avoid to be.
ah…she rises out of darkness, walks on dark pathways and guards the chaste by luring away the shady…light is not for her…sigh…
Powerful, graphic stuff here. Well done.
Smiles – such a brilliant portrayal of Paris – it is one of my most loved places – such life, such vibrant and so special. I must have missed this sketch in the library….
great write… don’t be tempted by those whores Bjorn… hahah
Hmm. I think you have quite an imagination–and soberness– to see the guilded and filthy lady under the allure of foot tapping and white breast. Course, this music helps and the drawing suggests something tawdry and smaller than the real tower. moving on is a good idea. i enjoyed the layered poem/painting/music.
. The iron dame is a good dancer…love Paris..cool piece.
What a word palette – visceral, and edgy. The stark contrast of the nightshade butterfly decay superimposed against the iconic elegance of the Eiffel Tower, is delivered with a JOLT of reality. Really fine writing.
Oh, I loved all of that! The poem, your reading, the song…. I too saw Claudia’s Eiffel Tower dancing. 🙂 I enjoyed the iconic images in the video, especially the glimpse of Beckett – one of the great faces.
And Nightshade Butterfly is such a perfect phrase for the contrast you describe.
That close up of what at first was sensuous but in reality horrid was jarring. And I, too, loved nightshade butterfly
gritty and real…. yikes. It would have been hard not to run to the iron dame… A hard topic written with a nice touch…
Ah, the rawness of reality as the illusion faded.
Great response to the image Bjorn. I hope to have a night or two in Paris sometime soon.
Love that title, Bjorn. What a great description of a seedy and sad human being…rotting teeth, needle marks and a meat cave of a mouth…shudder!
many of us wonder how it is and this poem says the feeling of it………. Nice………………
Oooh, gritty and sad… the underbelly of the City of Light…
A vivid description, and I think that it capture a bit of their own horror at the ‘profession’ that they have.
I think I have written from that point of view before,
Powerful poem…”nightshade butterflies” nice touch.
You depict this so vividly. Made me sad to know some succumb to this. Well written Bjorn. I think I felt what you intended.
Def a dose of reality there, wow. You made me cringe. That is difficult. Well written. As always.
wow…what description. I definitely can understand why you rather dance with your iron dame than stiletto heels.
Oh dear…the light and the darker side contrasted so well here, Bjorn; not having been there, I know enough from movies to imagine..esp. like the opening stanza…so sad that some women resort to the life of a prostitute
Quite a poem. The description of the woman is particularly strong–and I would choose the iron dame as well.
An intense write Bjorn! Very good, mind you. I like that you created a scene from the scene, what’s going outside the borders? Do we want to know? In this case it’s almost like a car crash- you don’t want to look but you can’t help it. But you get away fast, haha.
I really like the title. It leads you to expect something else entirely, but it fits perfectly. And there are certain words that just make me cringe when I hear them; meat is one. Uggh. Such good use of raw imagery and words.
Reading it again, the first and last lines are very strong and evocative. They could stand alone as a senryu:
Killer writing.
I like that senryu.. that would something to write into a haibun..
It kind of popped out to me. If you do it as a haibun let me know, I’d love to read it.
ah..it’s sure better with iron dame I guess…reality is always scary..
haww! this is killer, Bjorn 😉
The sight of the human making your blood run cold, while iron dame makes turns up the heat is interesting contrast. It serves to remind that it takes the brighter the light the darker the shadow..
This breaks my heart even more than the empty room by Hopper and your lovely poem about grief. You are so real, so genuine in your poetry. You talk about fear, but you seem brave to me.