Corroding impatience,
acid shivers cut fissures along my nerve paths
rolling poisonous desires in the depths thus plowed,
the mephitic emanation of boiling sweat
and algae rich breath
purifying into the attar of roses marrying lilac
by an offertory of eye blinks
strumming butterflies off those images
strung upon memories of you.
I see you in the primal valley torn inside a mountain’s rib
Falcons caring for your shadow, dangling vines your flailing crib,
And an avalanche of boulders plying gashes through the pines
Melts in sunshine laden bubbles dying in your body’s wine...
The floor curves dangerously downwards,
the minutes to pass as many stones in pockets
hours as many stomping elephants
days each a trunk
groaning under ripened fruit and heavy rain and nesting birds
crushing breast bone splinters
into the flesh of heart
and waiting for the miracle of passing night
to ease the load
as stone after elephant after tree
disintegrate into the wrinkles of a burgeoning smile.
You stole a dream from morning’s armor smiling protests out of way
Dipping in its pouring colors all of clouds and part of day,
Waves of diving armadillos lacing pearls to your hair
Strew a mist of scales and petals into evening’s sweet despair...
My body turns into a sailor’s knot,
curled fingers anchoring diamond nails
deep into peeling layers of glass
trying to mold it into that one grain hourglass
ending the infinity of the wait
by a twist of the wrist
and watching fascinated the landing,
the explosion at the bottom
multiplied a million times by the explosion of the door
and your teeth sinking the love into my neck.
The swish of silk invades the room with rolling laughter’s lambent tease
And carries in its ribboned tail the whiff of east’s caressing breeze,
I feel the fleeting touch of hands unbuttoning my cotton vest
Before you land inside my arms to curl your heart against my chest...
Time stops,
I do not know the face I knew
as your beauty is reborn once again
and you envelope me with yet another side of the rainbow
and another side of the butterfly
and I will never sate
blanketing myself with you
at the end of the inevitability
of patience.
In a list
- AP Book Project 2 • next in list
- AP - Some poems of my favorite poets • next in list
- Beautiful Words by Beautiful People I Know • next in list
A contest entry
- Win $50, and be published in the next Allpoetry Book! Relationships theme by Kevin.
400 points, ended March 5, 2009, 113 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 14 of 14
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Roses marrying lilac. Nice sensory affect.
Wonderful pictoral of emotion and senses. I like the rhythm and the changes between rhyme and not. It very much mimics the scene and emotion it describes.
Nicely done. -
Must be.
I find this beyond even the over-elaborate. In some ways tortuous to read; nobody could love another to this degree, which is why I also find it affected. With all this going through your head you'd be oblivious of anyone's cotton shirt being undone.
The only way I can give it credibility is that is written about an ideal soulmate - if there is such a thing. And though the contest asks for this kind of imagery, there is simply too much of it.
My saying this might upset a few. Yet my opinion is honestly given. Perhaps this is an example of a cultural difference. One defying in a perverse sense, the "in-yer-face" stereotype too many of us hold over here. -
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I was shocked to see somebody to talk and to comment others poetry this way. What for? 
This is a scorning of his talent, moreover this is a personal attack. Do you know mimiagatha? No. Nobody has a right to talk this way about anybodies poetry. You may like it or not but the rules of this site (you probably missed them, or you do not understand the meaning of rules) and the rules of normal human moral do not allow to anybody to talk this way! If you do not like this kind of poetry, skip his page, and go to read whatever you like. If you are able to find it without your bitter criticism. 
Take a risk and try some other page.
Some people like mimiagata and Nigh Hope and many others I know in my real life and on this site are born as poets. I am not going to mention all their names. I dare to say that I am a poet too. What is too much in this poem? Too much love? Too much beauty? Too much poetry? Are you closed under the black bell jar or some kind of box and you can't step out to think and to see out of its borders? Maybe you will be surprised what is there to see. I agree with Wanda, you can't see the wind but you feel it. What do you mean with "cultural difference"? What this statement supposed to be?
You do not know anybody of us. For some poet from this site you never will know their age and county or their cultural heritage or their fate and many of them are great, great poets.
Love is a matter of heart and loyalty and friendships and many other things what two people share. Maybe you've never heard about all this feelings. Is love a state of culture or a state of heart? For you maybe it is. In this case, I am so sorry for you. What is your problem? Ideal soulmates exists. Try to live with this fact.
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Opinion vs. fact = incorrect assumption
"nobody could love another to this degree"
Ohhh, really? You're 49 & don't believe in this accurately wonderful & perfectly correct definition of love??? Man, that's just too sad. And coming from a poet, too??? Yikes. Downright agonizing. mimiagatha knows precisely what he's describing as Truth. So do I. I lived it personally for 14 years until my sweetheart passed away. Maybe you need to give it a fair chance before you decide whether something is credible or not. It has nothing to DO with being a "cultural difference" (THAT statement was offensive to me...what does one's geography have to do with the quality & willingness of one's heart?) - it has much more to do with being willing to be open - to take a risk. To step beyond your known "safe borders" & step into a dream. Try it. If nothing else, it will give a whole new depth to your poetry. And by the way...my friend didn't send me, either. There's a 15 hour difference between us, at least. I'm quite sure he's snuggled between even more cotton with his Lady Love, deliriously content. Bravo for them, I say. It is a matter of faith, after all...Just because you can't SEE something doesn't mean it isn't there, you know...Kind of like the wind? 
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Must be.
upset? but how wrong of you, my friend. i find it hilarious, in its own tortuous (sorry for the plagiate, which i know is not a word) pseudo-intellectual, imagination firing kind of way. you know, i believe the world is split between talented (to which i belong) and those less fortunate, which find their ecstasy in envy. you'll be, i guess, surprised that i do really believe in dragon breathing love and sky shattering beauty, be it even just in my mind. after all what is the difference between a newspaper article which copies reality, and a poem which creates reality? fantasy. poor ulysses would never have been born without it, you know as much i believe.
btw, even in the most inebriated moments, i still pay attention to her cotton shirt getting undone. after all - this is the definition itself of inebriation
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Ah.
Tell you what I think? With poetry as such, whoever thinks?
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you're the greatest... methinks
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Wow, I must bookmark this so that I can read this when I am a bit less drunk. I found the imagery to be very enticing and original, some of it slightly dissasociative. I will surely enjoy deciphering this beauty when I am in the right state to do so, or perhaps I will enjoy it for its enigmatic finery.
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Wow very interesting, i like it
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Very imaginative..I liked reading this poem.
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Loved your use of imagery and metaphors. the imagery was breathtaking....Beautiful piece!
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Beautiful... sigh... This is a memorable, eternal poetry.
~Sonja~
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"I see you in the primal valley torn inside a mountain’s rib"
"My body turns into a sailor’s knot,"
May I just pause here for a moment to take a breath? It seems I was holding it throughout this beautiful, soulful, intense penning, my Friend. What a glorious piece it is, Scribe. Angels must whisper in your ears all the time for you to write the way you do. Lovely beyond description.
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