(For Louis Bunuel)
So bland and flat to taste
This my daily bread
Myself have I often asked
Isn’t it boring
Isn’t it monotonous
This bathing in the same bath
Sleeping in the same bed
Doing the same dull round
Going through the same bloody motions
Every day?
Making a virtue of necessity
I lost all the zest
I forgot life was so vast
Limitless in possibilities
There is so much to savour
Why should I rot in the same rut?
So I went on an exploration
Strolled into an eatery in the market place
Tasted a variety of spiced dishes
That activated my salivary glands
Once I saw your friend there
He has a lot of money to spend
But not much discretion
Or that Japanese gentleman
I thought he was a queer fish
With a queer taste
But he was a veritable hippo
With far above the average weight
He left me crushed and utterly dazed
But strangely pleased
It was not your feather touch
That scratched only my surface
It shook and shredded my very core
There was a virtual parade
Of persons and predilections
In that gynaecologist
Anatomy and physiology
Had left no sense of mystery
He was intent to invent
Something bizarre
Something out of the ordinary
And that duke wanted to communicate
With heaven and hell
At last what I got was too hot
Very trying to my palate
But it made me concupiscent and content
It made me more hungry as I ate
It burnt like liquid lava
It was so excoriating and intense
It burnt all the way
As it went down my hungry gullet
It set my blood on fire
It was an exciting adventure
On a dreamboat to a heady dreamland
It was a complication I wanted to avoid
I had gone out a dull habit to break
Now it threatened to invade
My life both indoor and outdoor
Forced indoors I am amazed to find
It is no longer stale
It is no longer sterile
You found me a dead fish
And were often annoyed
For a change it now tastes so fresh
Now come my love
Take me in your arms
In a crushing embrace
Make our duty fun
Make me feel
We are not fettered but are free
And tell me honestly my friend
Is it what we call love?
And is it a one-way traffic?
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A contest entry
- lust & love by whiterabbit..
375 points, ended January 6, 2008, 37 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - It's Impossible by magdelene.
1000 points, ended January 9, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - "La Belle et Le Bad Boy" by scream.n2.nite.
1050 points, ended April 16, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Courtesans of All Countries; Prostitutes of All Professions = Feminism? by Avatar of Innocence.
1300 points, ended July 6, 2008, 11 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Read Between the Lines by Tercil.
1600 points, ended November 17, 2008, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Love Everlasting by Vars.
650 points, ended December 2, 2008, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 9 of 9
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HMMM....this poem was very intseresting. A bit random, at times, humorous at others, sad at some points and touching at other-others? Is that a word? Ahem, anyway, I liked this poem a lot, and i wish you well in the contest
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well, it states, I have viewed only but see below for the in depth feel to this piece. That is my comment below, under my other user name, Shakespeare, well done,
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This piece sounds like a one word, decoder, like it is portrayed much and how we read it these days, and will sound like, time and time again in the same compartemet of thought, as 'recycling.', much of the word wizardry you use is related to recycling, Using first off the monotony of things that is using things time and time again which are reinvented afterwards. You use the human form as well, and I suppose after we are gone, this same recycling appears as maybe as a soul does, very clever, but if it was the correct answer,younow have another.Nice one. Very good indeed.
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William Shakespeare
The size of your vocabulary is said to have been 20-odd thousand words, whereas the size of the vocabulary of most other English writers like, say Tennyson (who used to boast that he knew the quantity of every English word), averaged a mere 8 thousand words at best. So such comment from a person like you on my word use is indeed very encouraging to me and I must thank you from the core of my heart.
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Hmm...considering this poem...this really pushes the envelope of what I was looking for. I do however see the merit in it. The female of this relationship had taken on qualities of a whore, becoming one herself for a brief instant...But...I'm still iffy. You want to argue its validity for my contest? I'm open for persuasion.
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Avatar of innocence
Who are prostitutes? Only the street walkers and those professionals of bawdy houses? I don't agree. This one is an example. Please see the movie of Bunuel and you will agree with me. -
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While I don't have access to the movie Bunuel, I do agree that prostitutes are not to be pigeon-holed into a stereotype. Valid Argument. Thanks.
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TRAFFIC
Very Nice and creative!! Love your abstract quality and the thin line that ties everything together! Thank you for entering this into my contest and I loved the last line...
- - riah - -
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i'm not quite sure i understood everything as is usually the case when i read your work,but for some reason i feel like i should be blushing.
fantastic imagery for what i did get
great job my friend
`midnight~
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