I read a poem
(one by
the bad boy
of American poetry
who made you smile)
smile as tho
his words were lips
kissing your lips
as tho they were
his lips kissing
your body
his fingers
ever so soft
moving in circles
like a moth
around
hot light
....his lips
his fingers
your body
your smile
& me watching
the two of you
you reading
his words writing
that smile
on your lips
in broad daylight
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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lovely poem Rudy especialy the ending
regards
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This piece is so sensual, almost voyeuristic, in its description of watching someone experiences the pleasure of reading the words of a poet. What an interesting perspective. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this.
Thank you,
Helen
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Thanks so much, Helen... I enjoyed you comments and I enjoyed writing this poem.
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me? I'd have to vote for Ed, if I hadda vote--there is absolutely no one worse than Ed on the American Literary scene, albeit there are scads of pretenders, interlopers and charlatans. Poems is sorta like berries the black berry bush what grows on the edge of old seventy--some is green yet and some is red, not quite ready yet, some is ready to be picked and some is blue black with busted vestibules with snake spit dripping offa them--most of them would be Ed's.
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Just came back from following the links on your page... T. E. Brady, born a hillbilly... What wonders the word holds.
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I like the references you make here, Lute, to old seventy, & the berries help me see poetry in a different line, but what of the briar's & what about that copper-color coil of a thing there in the grass?
I understand...
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This is beautiful. I loved the subtle tones of sensuality here, the playfulness, the soft touch of love. Just one of those poems that pulls a smile from the heart.
~ Nicolette
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One always runs a risk with such recognizable lines as these, but the risks are lessened when the words are not confessional. Indeed, the bad boy poet was playful, rebellious, & brazen enough to dare such poetry...
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That is so startling good made even better by the fact that I appear to be running a poetry comp for the illiterate and my spirit is about broken with teen angst, plonky verse and something the dog threw up. This however is just wonderful and if ever I held a comp where I was inundated with these types of pieces, I would be a very, very happy reader trying to choose amongst such a surfeit of riches. Well done, and thanks to Ed who directed me to it.
David
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& my thanks to you for listening to Ed. I understand how one's spirit can be broken with teen angst.
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Brilliant. Bookmarking this one, as the border is ever so lovely with the plume, excpept that's a butterfly, not a moth, and that's a flower or pistil or something and not an elephantine clitoris.
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Maybe I should go back and make the moth=a butterfly & the flower=not a hot light...
I really enjoyed this comment. Thanks so much...
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Wow, I feel like I should have a cigarette.... Wonderful write, I love this poem. Great write, you are amazing.
♥
whisper
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Go have that cigarette & called it a deserved one... I appreciate you...
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