and i doubt
the stars are on fire
not when my breasts
hoard all the coal
and you are locked in the wrong house
while another handles your moaning keys
and morning finds the bubble of your nose
popping hipbones growing in a blond forest
as i talk to spoons in the third person
in a twelve year old voice
so i can forget she is
me
and we have become
half-flowers
half-sidewalk
all mute and immeasurably empty
of the blood birds
once cupped in our honeymoon hands
but now leaks into her openings
robbing the coins of my uterus
to pay her gifts of
witch tongue
and
moments of damp meat
she is a queen
of ten names
a funny girl
a summer girl
and other clever things said in bed
so i burn like limes burn
green fire crackling
at your epiphanies
that here you have found
a stone pale enough
to shape the ribs
of such a
goddess
but i have learned
to be gretal
when hansel has finished all the bread
and sit down to beer and sausages
anything that doesn’t speak french
or taste of monogamy
of your simple starch
and smoke away a past
as epic as a tin plate
A contest entry
- Crack A Rib by Cannonsfire.
1000 points, ended August 6, 2008, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
-
Stuning!
-
"so i burn like limes burn
green fire crackling"
You are immeasurably unique. And I LOVE that! You write such amazing and totally off the wall poems. I am astounded at the unique and powerful Muse you possess. So well done here!
-
I am consistently astounded by your work.
The sheer substance of your poetry - the material, the intensely tactile and vivid nature of your imagery, the utter euphony of it all, is kind of... breathtaking.
There is another noun form of the word poetry used to describe the technique and skill - 'poesy'. I've always thought it to be rather pretentious, and it is certainly more often abused than handled properly. In its best-case application, I feel it talks to the care and craft that goes into a poem - care and crafting that many poems are in dire want of.
It would be presumptuous of me to talk about your 'method'; I have no idea who you are or what you do. However, when I read your poetry, this is the only word I can think of when I speculate about its creation.
-
-
Careful. You're starting to make me blush.
No method...just memories and trying to make sense of them in the garbled chambers of my mind. Poetry tends to silence them so I just keep writing, and maybe, just maybe, after they've leaked out, I can go to sleep.
Again, thank you so much for your kind words. I can't tell you how much I do appreciate them.
-
-
damn, you have been cranking out the poems. this piece absolutely stunning, insert the whole second stanza here. that was my favorite part, for sure. half-flower, half-sidewalk....where do you come up with this? like...let's trade brains, alright?
-
-
After reading a some of your stuff, I'm thinking...DEAL!
lol
Thank you very much, I'm delighted to meet a new talented poet and humbled you find my works enjoyable.
-
-
I want your endings...
actually I just want your talent. lol.
Exceptional hon.
-
I am agog with how you say so much and yet I get to the end and I just want to read it again, let it soak in and over me...the ending just does it. C
-
....you are gonna make this tough for me entering, aren't you? This has a classically great ending, which always does it for me in poetry...love it. Lane
-
-
Psh. WhatEVA! You'd blow me outta the water if you wrote with only one toe on a day of tuesday tornadoes and feral cats clinging to your pantyhose!
But thankee...you are as always too good to me. 
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 10 of 10
