Off-Season (Flash 55)
Off-Season
Istanbul in our twenties, blonde
in the Blue Mosque, toes squishing
into piles of carpet smelling faintly
of toes faced
with overarching tiles, mosaics synced
in their mismatch, sprigs,
prayers, paisleys, but no eyes
except of the men
who watched us in and out
fighting about who would sell us
what we would not buy.
*******************************
A belated 55 for Mama Zen and also a poem for the prompt and photo of Lolamouse of With Real Toads. The wonderful picture, among others, was taken by Lolamouse at a shop in Portland, Oregon, but the blue amulets look identical to ones my daughter bought in Turkey a few years back, so I am guessing these are also from there. One process note is that it is my understanding that Islam discourages (or even prohibits) the depiction of sentient beings, which means that mosques do not have iconography of people’s faces but tend to focus upon geometric shapes or flowers or calligraphy. The “Blue Mosque” is a popular name of the Sultanahmet (or Sultan Ahmed) Mosque in Istanbul.
This is also some consecutive poem–23rd?–for April, National Poetry Month.
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This entry was posted on April 23, 2014 at 9:18 pm and is filed under poetry, Uncategorized. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.
Tags: all the pretty patterns, amulet of eye, April National Poetry Month, Blue Mosque, flash 55, Manicddaiily, not good at bargaining
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April 24, 2014 at 1:40 am
‘of toes faced’ – what a brilliant image, k ~
April 24, 2014 at 5:42 am
ha. quite the atmosphere you created….the slight smell of toes was an interesting touch…not one many might add…but its a cool layer….def full of memory…
April 24, 2014 at 6:48 am
This is incredibly lush for so few words, k. Really atmospheric, as bri says, and also a bit stark as well; after the allure of the different, the flash and color is absorbed, then we see what’s underneath, in this case the mismatch, the sprigs and bits, the never very savory motives and how the strange corset of religious beliefs which prohibits all but those rather compulsive feeling, intricate geometrics makes for a world that is foreign and, in keeping with my own response to those eyeballs-on-a-string, a bit sinister as well, in the way that the unknown can seem. Really well done, k.
April 24, 2014 at 11:48 am
This so good, k. Really vivid.
April 24, 2014 at 12:25 pm
lovely condensation of images and scents here. I appreciate the tension created in your final 6 lines, a fine tug between what is real live, and what is a depiction. a very satisfying read.
April 24, 2014 at 2:00 pm
I like this! Great ending as it seems no one is ready to take of them! Ha! Ha!
April 24, 2014 at 2:40 pm
Lovely images. My in laws are from Istanbul. As a matter of fact today is 99 years from the Armenian genocide and we are sad about family members that died during those times in Turkey. Sorry I don’t mean to put a damper on your lovely poem…just wanted to share.
April 25, 2014 at 7:37 am
No damper. What a terrible event. Thank you for sharing–it is important history. k.
April 25, 2014 at 12:04 pm
This really creates the atmosphere of the place, especially with the inclusion of smell. Reminded me of my own visit (in my 20’s) to the beautiful mosque in Paris.