Out

I sat at a table
surrounded by men.
They were beautiful,
don't get me wrong,
I adored how their eyes met
and gestures felt erotic.
In laughter, loud
like shouts in barrels,
they aroused each other's
touch without touching,
but seemed tied together
by the same rope.
They were lifting glasses,
propping them on foreheads,
rummaged in trouser pockets
to find a shared experience.
Shirts were white or blue
or grey and not one of them
noticed me; not one
cared for my breasts or lips,
nor the height of my heels.
My brain reposed, unused,
and they only glanced
to Mum to see if
she was listening.

I love this one, Krista. If I read it right, the men are brothers (tied together by the same rope) and the woman is their mother which is why they don't think of her in a sexual way.

This is well written with great understanding. A few suggestions between the lines.

I sat at a table
surrounded by men.
They were beautiful,
[don't get me wrong,]

I don't feel you need 'don't get me wrong' - it adds nothing here. If you wanted it more precise then perhaps

I sat at a table
surrounded by beautiful men.

I adored how their eyes met
and gestures felt erotic.
In laughter, loud
like echoes in barrels,
they aroused each other's
touch without touching,
but seemed tied together
by the same rope.

Nice description of laughter.
Also 'arouse each other's touch without touching' shows a closeness which 'tied together with the same rope' follows up.
I like this stanza very much.

They were lifting glasses,
propping them on foreheads,
rummaged in trouser pockets
to find a shared experience.

love 'rummaged in trouser pockets to find shared experiences'

Shirts were white or blue
or grey and not one of them
noticed me; not one
cared for my breasts or lips,
nor the height of my heels.
My brain reposed, unused,
and they only glanced
to Mum to see if
she was listening.

The beginning of this stanza makes me wonder if the woman is invisible LOL! - but the twist at he end shows she is their mother. Yes, they would glance at her to see if she was listening.

Good writing, Krista. written with skill and understanding of relationships.

Eira

rummaged in their pocket to find shared experience
What does this mean? I find some of your lines at times need clarification rather than being over looked

Thanks Eisa/Eira ( which is it?) :)

Regards,

Krista

Hi Krista
This one has me intrigued, I will come back to it, I'm not sure the characters in this one are as simple as sons and a mother, the title alone is a bit of an indicator that has me thinking there's a lot more going on here. I will be back!
Cheers
W

Mum may be a non female. The poem has addressed the men as being gay. Maybe in the poem he is their gay father head. Anyway the poem seems to promise more than the writer is willing to admit. I can only deduce the two young males have both experienced sexual contact with Mom. There is the gay phrase "I be Mother" ie the overbearing partner.

Thanks everyone for your feedback and thoughts.
I've been so busy and not found time to reply. I apologise for this.

This piece is about me sitting at a table one night with nothing but male work colleagues. I am slightly (????) older than them and felt out of place.
But what struck me was, that, eventhough no males were gay in my knowledge, the mere connection between them was homo-erotic in a sense. They understood each other, there was praise and admiration, touching, and all this time there was no interest in females, certainly not in me, nor in the other much more attractive women in the room. This brotherhood struck me, intrigued me, if you will.
I felt all men have this bond and women cannot enter.

I liked the connotation with homosexuality, hence the title.
And my experience is that men do look at women for approval....this is where 'mum' came from.
The 'glasses' are spectacles. Particularly one or two guys I know, balance them on top of their forehead when they don't need them and they all, ALL, jiggle change in their pockets.

Regards,
K

That sheds some light. I was getting some of that but a few things led me astray. An interesting comparison would be a poem by a man sitting with younger female colleagues. I don't think I will be the one to write it.

This is male comradeship. Therefore the poem is written by an outsider who by inferring gay has missed the point
I am sure females would be no different in the reverse situation, we males would call it a sister hood rather than assume orientation
Ultimately rejection is the mother of generalization
Not convinced the jingle of change was your true explanation

No generalisation was intended.
In my view, we are all bisexual in a way and I adored this group of men and,
yes, lamented the fact they showed no sexual interest at all, being older than them. I didn't call them gay, I just realised men stick together. Of course, the opposite situation would give a similar experience to a male.
They were thoughts after wine, walking home alone.

Greenwich, not sure I like your tone of late. If one of your pieces was criticised, learn from it instead of trying to get revenge. Childish.