Vigilant, you buffed
your radiant barrier
into a polished membrane
that enveloped the vitality
of your essentiality.
In my arms,
as you breathed
the rhythms of slumber,
your soul gave me
the totality of your heart.
Unconscious ...
You sought my hand that
caressed your curves, and clung
my palm at rest to your heart ...
cleaved between your breasts.
The moonfool offers
his splayed bosom ...
His hopeful enduement ...
A supplication for reciprocity.
... Best blind the eyes.
Traverse the parting ...
Seen ... then averted.... now known.
Unconscious, you surrender to joining
and enshroud your essence ... when in your eyes.
Now ... disinclined ... I must choose.
Ensnared ...
between the delicious succulence
of your warm sleeping heart,
or the burnished chrome shell
of your chilled and warded intimacy.
_______________________________________________________
with author's pause/inflection notes:
_______________________________________________________
Vigilant, you buffed
your radiant barrier
into a polished membrane
that enveloped the vitality
of your essentiality.
In my arms,
as you breathed
the rhythms of slumber,
your soul gave me
the totality of your heart.
Unconscious ...
You sought my hand that
caressed your curves, and clung
my palm at rest to your heart ...
cleaved between your breasts.
The moonfool offers
his splayed bosom ...
His hopeful enduement ...
A supplication for reciprocity.
... Best blind the eyes.
Traverse the parting ...
Seen ... then averted.... now known.
Unconscious, you surrender to joining
and enshroud your essence ... when in your eyes.
Now ... disinclined ... I must choose.
Ensnared ...
between the delicious succulence
of your warm sleeping heart,
or the burnished chrome shell
of your chilled and warded intimacy.
Author notes
prompt: (v) Trapped.
2 versions of the same are presented: The first (top) is left justified. the second shows broken pace and pause spacing.... reader's preference.
yes I know enduement is uncommon, but has a musicality to it.
Enduement
En*due"ment\, n. Act of enduing; induement.
Webster's Revised Unabridged Dictionary, © 1996, 1998 MICRA, Inc.
A contest entry
- Write free verse fromsubjects given Winklings & friends # 84 by Lyndon.
3500 points, ended May 27, 2008, 15 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 15 of 15
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A very passionate look at the difficult nature of intimacy and a successful relationship which should be filled with mutual sharing and caring!!! Very deep!!! [And intense...
]
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Thank you Ithica. Intense it was. Frequently truths are, damn it.
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Ingenious, intense - you write with great self-assurance (damn, it's getting late and I don't know if I'm making sense). Congratulations on a well-deserved trophy.
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Thank you for the introduction and welcome to this little piece. You are kind.
"Ingenious, intense..."
Maybe a little intense... not sure if I can rise to "ingenious," but you are gracious for saying so.
if you felt it, it worked. if not, I need to sharpen my pencil keyboard.
Thanks again Mairi....
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Thank you for heeding Pamela
in the word count.
Pretence and reality are at odds in this poem and I can excuse the broken nature of the whole piece as exemplifying this tension. This poem definitely plumbs depths of angst where love comes not easy but difficult for intimacy [hidden most] is at the heart of love. It is easy to say "I love you" or lie with a lover but to expose one's innermost essence to another is difficult indeed. Thank you.
Lyndon of the Winklings.
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Thank you Lyndon. yes. broken on purpose to capture hopefully the catches and pauses in the voice of the confessor. almost more like composer instructions on written music. I struggled on leaving that in or just hitting the left align .... decided I had to take the risk here.
[EDIT] left aligned and paused presented
Thank you for listening to the story and understanding it.
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94 words. Must be at least 120 to stay within the contest specs. Gee, I hope you will find some because this is amazing poetry. Your last stanza had my hand to breast in gasp.
I will be back. This is too good NOT to be back.
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sure, adding more is unfortunately never a problem for me.
You mean I have to start reading the rules? Isnt that like asking for directions?
Edit: Ok, word count adjusted. thanks for the heads up...
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I am very glad I read this piece because it helps me to better understand your past feelings, and it also helps me to understand I felt the same.
Your words are so beautifully in depth and the metaphor soothes the soul of a disheartened reader.
It's very hard to accept the truth, when we rather just hide it; a barrier beneath our skin we prefer not to display to the world. I guess that's just our way of comfort for that moment in time.
The notions of being "trapped" between white lies and love are definately signs of coming closer to closure..
Even if it's so far away (if that makes any sense)
Brilliance shines here. Good luck in your contest
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Bella: Thank you so for coming by. You are kind in your praise of this piece. It was a moment that had to be faced.
Thank you BB
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I am very glad I read this piece because it helps me to better understand your past feelings, and it also helps me to understand I felt the same.
Your words are so beautifully in depth and the metaphor soothes the soul of a disheartened reader.
It's very hard to accept the truth, when we rather just hide it; a barrier beneath our skin we prefer not to display to the world. I guess that's just our way of comfort for that moment in time.
The notions of being "trapped" between white lies and love are definately signs of coming closer to closure..
Even if it's so far away (if that makes any sense)
Brilliance shines here. Good luck in your contest
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Such white, stark truths interwoven with white, stark noise. Buttery murmurs and exhaltations given so easily in our white noises, our white truths so much harder to give color too.
"The moonfool offers
his splayed bosom...
His hopeful gift
of reciprocity.
Blind the eyes."
Succulent.
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Cinnarry: Thank you for finding this. I am sort of surprised someone ran accross it, as it is sort of buried in the stacks.
You comment is itself a poem.... Yes. White truths, lost within the penumbra of white lies to the self, until the eclipse ends, and the lies are abruptly blinded by the contrast between complete darkness hope-lies and the brillient painful knowledge of the "white stark truth..."
Thank you for your understanding this and you gracious descriptions. The writer dances alone, until a reciprocant joins with him to make a new ballet. Thank you for the dance.
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Ahh yes... sometimes we are trapped within ourselves, unable to express true intimacy, yet able to explore sensuality...
We've talked about this... and you have really written a piece that explores it in such depth!
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Thank you J. Yes you know more of the autobiography. Still an odd irony of conscious and unconcious depth needs. You are always gentle in you comments. Thanks again.
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