for bc...
this sadness a small hangnail today
burning into my thumb how i
hurt you with my words
my midnight musings
about your purple drapes
and how i thought i saw your sex
through the curtain's slit
a wall of skin, les petits poils
and dark energy pulling me in
with its ts ts titilating giggles
that shade of laughing purple
carrying me back to lesbiana
the joy i felt as a girl
when teasing was the start
and the cat intently watched
as i drank her virgin fruit
salty grape petal soft
opening upon my mouth
melting my tongue
and now freshly embarrassed
by those ancient pleasures
resurrected by your videopoem
my mistake in the telling
drawing back the curtain
to reveal my thirsting soul
and what i thought innocent love
shaming you and your work
i am so sorry i am so sorry
somethings in the dark
were meant to be private
i'll send a singular message
or i won't speak at all
3 commentaires:
"Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting." Robert Frost
It wasn't intentionally in the videopoem, none of what you've seen, yet the words I drew from my long prosepoem, "Glint of the Green Cat's Eye," become an embedded love poem that dips in and out of the soundtrack... Personally I believe though the poet can be logos, in their ideas, prose writings, in their poetry, eros. Eros is the life force not only in Nature but in our creative writing which partakes of the natural forces.
While I am hetero, and so can't identify with the sexuality you write of, I think this is the best poem you've written in awhile and am glad to see you blossoming remembering blossoming, riding your own melting in the poem.
brenda, i am ultimately glad that i suppressed the comment because i see your video has again been accepted by facebook... all good does come from goodness, as we have often seen together.
i realized after i wrote this that this was the beginning of the book i was telling you about... the history of my sexuality which has brought me to this bright shining moment of loss death and resurrection. i'm more hyped about it now... although i think there will be great resistence on the part of some readers. this poem is mild compared to what i have experienced... more flashbacks are sure to come, not always as pleasant as this one...
of course your visuals were only a catalyst and had nothing to do with my vision; in fact, mine was a mistaken view... i did not see your trees and overlaid my own vision upon the cloth. that is what we do, isn't it? i'm only sorry for the consequences upon facebook that came from opening my big mouth...
i'll open my big evolutionary mouth in my own work... xoxooxoxoxoxoxo
you have my permission for the image :)
Claire
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