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The Witness In The Window – Poetry Contest

Rain

The photo to the left captures perfectly the mood I’m getting from the story. That photo is of and by Sophie Elliot. It’s powerful, emotional, evocative, and beautiful.

Please take a moment and explore the wonder that is the art and photography on her blog.

I’m going to the well one more time with this poetry contest. As usual, the winning entry will get to post a guest post on UDoJ, on any subject of your choice and without edit.

You all wrote some beautiful stuff in response to Quietly Naked In The Pouring Rain, and a bit of narrative emerged spontaneously.

Kristine’s entry moved me, and Deacon Barry’s winning counterpoint to that gave us the view of the incident from the husband. Max then whomped us with the final words of the dying lover.

Adding to the story line of the Cheating Wife, the Murderous Husband, and the Dying Lover, I want to get one more view of this incident and then I will make a page here on UDoJ to display them all together.

A refresher of the scene and your current challenge are below the fold.

Kristine

Quietly naked in the pouring rain,
that tree stands like my memory of you
at tne edge of a promise spoken anew.
Sky and mist and earth mixed again,
but now mixed with tears and empty hands
No voice answers mine, no thunder even
No questions to ask for no answers given,
where you once kissed me just that tree stands.
Beneath that tree where once we had lain
is a tangle of roots that know dark history
in their wordless winding they bind you to me,
quietly standing in the pouring rain.

Deacon Barry

Quietly, naked in the pouring rain
I’m waiting as you frantically explain
To your angry husband, waving in the air
Those crumpled jeans you sought to hide in vain.

His sharp demands, accusing stare
Your evasions, sobbed despair
How long did this deception last?
This sick, despicable affair?

Your lover’s breaths are faint and fast
And now your time with him is passed.
Your husband screams like one insane
And from his hand his ring is cast.

Your lover knows no more of pain.
His opened throat – a crimson drain.
I clean my blade and watch him die
Quietly naked in the pouring rain.

max

if i had known this
that i would die — ever cripes
i would drown you first

But what is the view from another eye? In my mind I’m picturing the scene:

The Husband has just caught the Wife cheating with the Lover, in flagrante delicto. The argument that winds up outside the home in the pouring rain results in murder of the Lover. There stands the Wife above the body of her dead Lover, clothed in nothing but the dark night and the cold rain, staring at the Husband.

There is a witness to these events. A child watches from the upstairs window.

Winner gets a guest post here at UDoJ on any topic of your choice, without edit. Entries may be submitted until 11:59 PM EDT (GMT -4 BST -5) July 31, and voting between then and 11:59 PM EDT (GMT -4 BST -5) August 7.

In the comments below, please give us Quietly Naked In The Pouring Rain, The Child In The Window.

Filed under: Literature, Poetry, Poetry Contests

11 Responses

  1. […] Monthly Poetry Contest Is Open Get your poems in to The Witness In The Window! You’ve got about two weeks, but don’t […]

  2. […] Witness In The Window – Poetry Contest Is Still Open Get your poems in to The Witness In The Window! You’ve got about week left, but don’t forget! Conquer your […]

  3. […] your poems in to The Witness In The Window! You’ve got about a day left, and not one single poem has yet been submitted! Conquer your […]

  4. Deacon Barry says:

    Mr Pazoo

    Mr Pazoo, Mr Pazoo,
    Sneak to me
    Speak to me,
    What did you do?

    It’s Saturday night.
    It’s pouring with rain.
    Mummy and Daddy
    Are fighting again.
    Mummy’s best friend
    Is waiting outside.
    He hasn’t got clothes on.
    He’s trying to hide.
    Daddy was out.
    They thought I was sleeping.
    They kissed and they cuddled.
    I know. I was peeping.
    Mr Pazoo promptly
    Picked up the phone.
    In a voice sounding like me, said,
    “Daddy! Come home!”

    Mr Pazoo, Mr Pazoo,
    Sneak to me
    Speak to me,
    What did you do?

    Mr Pazoo
    Is my very best friend
    He says he’ll be close to me
    Right to the end
    His fingers are scissors
    His eyeballs are red
    He lives in a dungeon
    Right under my bed
    He makes lots of mischief.
    He says it’s a game.
    Whenever he’s naughty,
    I get the blame.
    But I know that he loves me
    He’ll always be true
    He’ll always protect me
    Will Mr Pazoo

    Mr Pazoo, Mr Pazoo,
    Sneak to me
    Speak to me,
    What did you do?

    Mummy and Daddy
    Are getting irate
    But the man in the garden’s
    The person I hate
    If he wasn’t here
    They wouldn’t get mad
    They wouldn’t shout at me
    I wouldn’t feel sad
    He’ll always protect me
    He knows what to do
    That man’s got a meeting
    With Mr Pazoo
    His fingers are scissors
    His eyeballs are red
    The man has his throat cut
    And now he is dead.

    Mr Pazoo, Mr Pazoo,
    Sneak to me
    Speak to me,
    WHAT DID YOU DO?

  5. […] your poems in to The Witness In The Window! You’ve got about four hours left, and only one single poem has been submitted! Conquer your […]

  6. d.vrai says:

    my four minute response to duty:

    Quietly Naked In The Pouring Rain, The Child In The Window

    I saw mommy kissing Santa Clause
    underneath my window on that night.
    I heard their beating hearts
    their murmurs in the dark.

    At least…
    Until daddy stumbled on the scene
    I smelled the remnants of his fling.
    Scent of bourbon rising fast
    through sheets of storm’s blast.

    With a flash daddy fisted the suitor’s white hair!
    with a crack his head dashed curb’s edge!

    I remember…
    Santa’s suit fell as water in the gutter,
    a brighter red I’ve never seen.

    How I miss Christmas.

  7. JanieBelle says:

    Alright!

    I was afraid that we wouldn’t get any poems at all, and that everyone had lost interest in the contests…

    Kisses to you both.

  8. d.vrai says:

    neh, didn’t lose interest. I was just drunk or something.

    Everyone that hasn’t posted a poem is hoping they’ll be punished. Or so I heard.

  9. The good punishment is for whoever posts poems!

    in case anyone was wondering…

  10. JanieBelle says:

    oooo… Were I eligible I would so be posting a fistful of them.

    That kind of punishment is highly recommended by your hostess.

    😉

    Kisses

  11. […] Barry Posted July 31, 2007 at 8:57 am Mr […]

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Awards and Nominations


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Order of the Science Scouts

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