"winslet" poems
Seven sit around a fire,
burnt marshmallows on two foot sticks
stuck between grahams,
talk *** and film.
Had her naked like Kate Winslet,
not Titanic Kate,
but Little Children Kate.
**** on the washing machine
behind Jennifer Connelly's back.
But the part about Madame Bovary,
who really needs feminist literature in a feminist film?
Okay, maybe it's classic romantic...
I felt lost like a pebble
sinking in the ocean
five miles deep
in the Puerto Rican trench.
I hadn't seen either movie
nor was I well versed
in feminism or romance.
My mind drifted to my first time.
Started with a french kiss
from a Latina girl,
at a house on Cleveland Ave,
I wish I could remember more.
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:15 PM UTC
Somebody put Kylie Minogue on
from the wall mounted touchscreen one-pound-a-go jukebox-
Coldplay would've been better, but I should be so lucky-
and the rising water in the Titanic's engine room of noise
rose to a First Class stateroom chatter and Kate Winslet
and the queue to the bar grew a little longer
and then
you
walked
in
like
a
Sunday
morning
walk,
one long stroll by a river edge or lake side,
through a Westfield, Bluewater Meadowhall
in one long rehearsed map move entrance
dodging standing drinkers and their plus ones in Zara trench coats and Boden shawls,
and you left a wake of wet forest and crumbling beachhead afternoons behind you as you
walked
on
through
the
crowd
to the pool table at the back where you watched
*** after ***
after pint
after ***
after we need more one pound coins to play more pool,
and you went out for **** though you don't smoke yourself
and you looked up into the mist because you're the kind that would find New York Stuart Little big:
mostly building, building, building, window, balcony, bridge, statue and Central Park trees,
and you walked back in with river eyes, your lids moving from cold back to behind-the-fridge, pub-room warm
and they watered a little, Pacific blue sliding over eternal black;
I think she's the kind that needs a lion tamer not an orchestra leader,
but I've only got Petit Filous muscles and I had four raw eggs this morning and I'm still not as strong as I’d like to be,
(put the baton down, Tim)
a River Phoenix younger Harrison Ford stasis, one train wreck ride to remember,
nowhere near the lion tamer you need.
Kylie sings for the fifteenth time in a row,
and the bar is past last orders though cash is pushed under for pints
and you disappeared under bar light
and then into the moonlight
and now I'm sat grieving
the Golden Retriever of The Nutshell
in Bury St Edmunds this evening.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
She always wanted to be
as famous as
Shakespeare.
Bawling dramatically in the cornfield.
My flip flops stuck
in the oozy mud
as I followed her for safety.
She sobbed on my shoulder during Titanic because she wasn't as beautiful
as Kate Winslet.
The rest of the cinema
gave me funny looks.
Soggy shoulder,
everyone necks craning to listen
to my therapy phrases.
"Sshhh. It's okay.
You're beautiful in a different way".
I never told her that lipstick didn't suit her.
And she still wears it now
on Facebook.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
As the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,
only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,
my new name is Nigiri,
on a roll hot like wasabi,
my threads are all designer,
& my hobbies are all hobbies,
I am definitely not sure at all,
well at least definitely not probably,
babbling’ with talking heads,
while jousting with the walking dead,
because we’re up right now up right now,
that's right the life of the party,
& you all probably already know all this,
because the whole time was Live recording,
Instagram Live Streaming all the time,
I'm dreaming at the same time touring,
every moment recorded,
even when it's not at all important,
off script but don't trip,
because we're still part of the program,
so before I even wake up,
you already know the whole thing,
you already know what happened,
the night before the morning,
the Knight Before The Mourning,
sounds a bit prolific & prophetic,
at least a little bit don’t you think,
but what’s it matter the least little bit, if no one takes the time to think,
they’re just getting their nails done,
in the salon in the bottom of the boat,
as it sinks & we just think,
“Well I hope at least the lifeboat floats”,
in a bit of a panic,
like Leo in the Titanic,
searching for my romantic Winslet,
before we both sink in this disaster,
see I see you drowning in this sea,
& I still love you even after everything,
so I swim over & my hand I outreach,
hoping you'll grab hold before you sink,
so I can backstroke with you on my back,
& swim us both to an island beach,
specifically Leo's island,
you know the one Blackadore Caye,
he actually asked me to run the island,
said it was just a bunch of palm trees,
& I know this is reality,
even though it all feels like a dream,
so I close my eyes pray for better times,
then open my eyes to focus & blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
the camera is always on,
the recording is always running,
this is layer cake no this is pound cake,
no this is the first ring around the onion,
onions in the sink,
got my eyes running made me think,
turned the water off got a wash cloth,
then took a moment to blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
blink,
as the line between our private lives,
& the public eye blurs,
all the old paradigms dissolve,
& nothing becomes as it was before,
only a few months more,
to get this riddle solved,
feeling like The Batman The Joker,
& Lois Lane all rolled in one,
∆ LaLux ∆
from The Sydney Sessions
the follow up from multiple # best selling author Aaron Lux
new book available for FREE here: https://www.scribd.com/document/367036005/The-Sydney-Sessions-12-Steps
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 10:37 PM UTC
Hi,
world !
I'm kate winslet,this is my new blog!
Have nice day !
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
The point of view of the young lover in the movie "The reader" where Kate Winslet plays a **** guard to a prisoners camp... and her 20 years in prison. This verse is the young lover's thought, who finally let her go, when he meets her first at the court house and then again at her release day... and she committed suicide at the end of her prison term, when he comes to pick her up.
________________________
I let her go
Where I could have changed
Changed her destiny
Can I live with it
I could not
And took the role Of "The reader" again
To let her live
And Outlive my shame
Of letting her go
And she did
How I let her go
To die alone
In her pain Again
She took
The memory of her
Out stretched hand
Unheld in my hands
As the kiss of death
How small things
Change and grow
In that void of cell
To burn "a desire"
To learn and communicate
To me, through my voice
Ringing in her head
How big part
I was
Of her life
And
How I cleave it out of her heart
In the end
How she held on to
The last straw
Of my reaching out
Again
How things change
How people change
And
How cowards like me
Let her go so quietly in pain
In vain
Sep 6, 2010
Sep 6, 2010 at 12:00 AM UTC
i.
i watch people die.
the romance moves slowly
on camera film; a lover
crashing through pvc
to kiss pavement,
windows behind relay
a tragedy captured
with ***** lights.
ii.
i transcribe scripts
to my bathroom mirror.
i see no Winslet.
green in my eyes
mark an imperfect creature,
no feeder's hand to bite.
i speak to my reflection
in self indulgence.
iii.
i don't have a role to play.
who i am is minors and leads
of movies shaped by the past,
but gas on the celluloid
makes the memory blur.
feelings died with the character
dead in the past.
iv.
i just watch people die.
casablanca;
temporary love rejected
when the bone and
the heart shatters.
v.
i don't know who i'll become.
i don't know if i'll become.
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 2:56 AM UTC