4 Photos In A Drawer (Not Forgotten) Poem by Callie Carroll

4 Photos In A Drawer (Not Forgotten)

Rating: 5.0

Photo 1
Baby sits
with diapered bottom
against gritty linoleum
Beauty (above baby)
framed in gilded sunlight
Glossy hair caresses Beauty's face
Baby basks in mamma's halcyon glow
She doesn't know
the beginning of her sorrow.

Photo 2
Siblings sit
on a velvet couch.
Almond eyes and forehead frizz
evidence of a kinship
they will not know.
Their eyes dart in different directions
The crack down the middle
separates them permanently.

Photo 3
Beauty sits
on a jagged rock.
Framed by a loveliness
that does not surpass her own.
Her smile beckons and bewitches.
Beauty doesn't see their sorrow
She's happily alone.

Photo 4
An early morning photo
Mangled limbs on
a tangled bed
Alone, alone, and, oh so cold.
No beauty here-
Just a splash of amber liquid
and a careless spill of pills
It's not the end of their sorrow.

Thursday, May 8, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: mothers,siblings
All of these photos exist except one. They haunt me.
Sonya Florentino 28 July 2009

i love this photograph poem! i don't know if it's about you but somehow reading photos 3 & 4, Marilyn Monroe came to mind.... :)

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Patrick A. Martin 14 July 2009

Some one cluch my heart in both hands before it falls apart completely. Thank you Callista for your photos. What a special read this is.

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Thomas Courtney Iii 06 June 2009

Hi. Yes I would say this is a lovely poem. I am still struck by the depiction of the 4th picture, I need a moment to recover. Very powerful. I really likie it. I thought your poem was like one of mine. I'm not trying to promote my poem, but perhaps share it that possibly you might enjoy it. (It's not long.) Blessings, Tom Courtney Stand on the Rock Boy stands easily on the smooth flat rock Pond shines around like his first set of teeth and the mountains of sky and the razors of conifers surround Sunbeams press his skin and drown the phantoms of a sleepless night in winter For a moment he thinks, I am whole He looks from a thin rutted trail looping their campfire to the girl. He smiles for the thin black glass she holds she cradles in slender fingers She snaps the shutter flies across the light He shifts his stance, I am your baby you married me Come step over the moss in fumbling hands and faces rounder smoother wetter pressing sunbeams from the corners Now the plastic rectangle pressed in plastic strangles memories of him and her And half the photos discarded and half and half again the scenery then hands and feet at the hands of unknown strangers Boy opens again the large slick binder A long time ago and far away she holds the camera

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Naseer Ahmed Nasir 28 March 2009

4 photos, four chapters of life. You have wonderfully recreated the life in this rememberance, callista.......10/10. Regards Naseer

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Bill Thomas 17 January 2009

Wow. Poignant, deep, sparsely enough written to let the imagination fill in the details - excellent, Callie!

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John Brown 18 March 2014

An intriguing poem indeed, and an unusual format.

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Ronel Mccarthy 11 November 2011

Very deep...yet so real with real emotion expressing the crude realities of life

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Alison Cassidy 01 January 2010

I can see your photos, Callie. You describe them with such clarity. And you use your words sparsely too, which I like. Nothing over done. In particular, the following lines stood out: 'scent of cotton scorch fills her nose'; 'Stair-stepped for posterity Almond eyes and forehead frizz' 'a careless spill of pills.' Interesting your use of the name 'Beauty'. There is irony in the name and pain in the telling. Fabulous poem. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

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Heather Starfire 29 October 2009

Cool idea for a poem! And interesting execution.

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Alex Nodopaka 26 October 2009

A chrono-illogical portrait of the artist as seen from an Rx bottle. I'm glad you handled this write as a pro.

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