Bombastic son of a blue thunder –
he must have cycled a thousand miles
around to get close enough to her –
the way she wanted getting close to.
A subtle diversion dipped in
a clitoralistic stream
of rendezvoused jewelry
like a slow thrum;
a warm pulse;
a thwarted steaming sheen;
a cyclical surge;
an idyllic soothsayer of litany;
a Shaman pawnism conveyor
of spirit, light and love.
No application necessary.
Only what she wants to be made
when she wants it and how.
Only the inexperienced need not apply.
© Nublin’s Pub, 2009
Author notes
saving the cynicism for later...
artwork - Georgia O'Keefe - who else for a poem like this?
A contest entry
- Apply Within by Allyce May.
1830 points, ended June 4, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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its beautiful how you could get that from a picture, well done.
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Thank you, but I believe Georgia O'Keefe created the painting based on my words. Of course I was much older then...
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makess sense: )
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Er, Ed, have I told you that reading your poetry is like an acid trip? Pretty sure only you could begin a poem with BOMBASTIC and follow though. Now I have that Shaggy Song in my head. Well done
Ahhh, what can I say about this? You are so very refreshing. Thanks for this
P.S. I LOVE the Shaman pawnism. Why do I feel like we've just shared a cup of tea?
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I wouldn't know what that's like - never done acid - but I can still see colors, man... Shaggy from Scooby Doo plays songs now? I didn't know he was a musician. Thanks - don't know why the feeling of shared tea, but I get the feeling that the sky is waving like a ship flag at sea and I'm an admiral in the 3rd fleet...
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Wellllll...Sonunva blue thundering, this poem rumbles, Ed. Good luck in Mizz Allyce's contest. 
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Better third than never...
The night is full of signs -
with the body and face of a man
these signs are his journeys
the rock splits
and speaks to the water
the flame burns
and speaks to the clouds
like grains of sand on the sea floor
that speak to the moon
and the loud hammering of hearts
speak, running up the bones of our thighs
we hear the hoofs over the seethe of the sea...
a cluster of lights in the night sky
faces before a pillar of fire
watching
while the sea breaks open
this night
we find the way in...
Gotta love Georgia in all her guises.
~ c♥
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This poem doesn't make any sense.
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neither does your comment.
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Danny sez ya oughta do a collab with 'em. 
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Perfect artwork for this. You compliment each other.
I loved the alliteration in that first line. lol.
And your descriptive second stanza. Ending? Well, what can i say, rounds it all up. Well done.
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