Darling,
I am missing you tonight.
You are here,
And I am near,
And things should always be so clear.
And yet—
I am missing you tonight.
I am wanting you this night.
Come, my one-only,
Let’s dive under pillows,
And brace all the doors,
Ignore the tumult,
Recover our moors.
Come, my forever,
Let’s surrender our skin,
And slide with the night,
Keep our eyes broken,
Spin the world light.
Come, my polaris,
Let’s undress disguises,
And bid our hands dance,
Tunnel through language,
Tap a new romance.
(And darling? Could you please,
and quick, unburden me of this
pretty whalebone poetry!
It chafes so . . .
There.
Thanks.)
My heartbeat is meter.
Your hands are haiku.
Let’s be messy.
Come.
[Picture courtesy of corsetsandcrinolines]
I am missing you tonight.
You are here,
And I am near,
And things should always be so clear.
And yet—
I am missing you tonight.
I am wanting you this night.
Come, my one-only,
Let’s dive under pillows,
And brace all the doors,
Ignore the tumult,
Recover our moors.
Come, my forever,
Let’s surrender our skin,
And slide with the night,
Keep our eyes broken,
Spin the world light.
Come, my polaris,
Let’s undress disguises,
And bid our hands dance,
Tunnel through language,
Tap a new romance.
(And darling? Could you please,
and quick, unburden me of this
pretty whalebone poetry!
It chafes so . . .
There.
Thanks.)
My heartbeat is meter.
Your hands are haiku.
Let’s be messy.
Come.
[Picture courtesy of corsetsandcrinolines]
20 comments:
I love this! The verse and the humor are both perfect.
Thanks, Jaye. I was really going to try and construct a sincere, rhyming poem. But, well, it chafed. ;)
And congratulations again!!
This hits all the right notes ... and I love the bit referring to the actual poetry, bringing the whole thing back on itself. Super!
I'm not one who normally enjoys poetry, but this demands a second and third reading. This is really, really good.
And I'm not just saying that because you were so complimentary of my western piece on Bernita's blog.
Thanks for taking the time to comment on not just mine but all the others.
Just got back from taking a cold shower after finding your entry at Bernita's. Fantastic imagery.
Very nice! Very sexy and love the image!
Shameless, I felt like I was trying to squeeze into something that was pretty, but a bit unwieldy. Hence, the corset. I hoped it wasn't too jarring, though.
Thanks! :)
Scott, I'm glad you came by. And I'm pleased you enjoyed the poem and my entry into the contest (LOL about the cold shower!). Yours was highly entertaining, with a memorable ending. Enjoyed reading it!
Thanks, Ello. Things have been getting a little, er, heated with the last few posts (I blame e.e. cummings and his irresistible love-crumbs).
Maybe I'll do another post about rotting fruit tomorrow...
;)
Close distance can be hopelessly vast.
But then again, how easily it can be tossed onto the floor. Along with, um, everything else.
Undressing what really needs to said, needs to be felt. You're naked with this. Bravo.
why do all brilliant poems have to be painful in one way or the other?
arf.
N
It felt, to me, of corsets, rhyme, and rhythm. Drum-beating perspiring passion.
Reading it feels like dancing.
As long as the kids are in bed, Jason. ;)
Mermaid, thank you. Undressing myself of structure and expectations, maybe.
:) Nothingman.
I may just have to change the title now, Wayne. Thanks.
Szelsofa, I love that. What a beautiful compliment. Thank you!
Sarah, What will you do with all your poetry? Are you collecting these for a book? Is this what you write and query? I am curious, because I cannot imagine that you write poetry so well and don't try to get your poems published.
I love the humor in this one. And the photo! Uggh!
Excellent!
CL, I've probably written less than ten poems in my life. I've never really thought about submitting them to journals, but that might be more out of laziness than anything. Maybe I'll give it a go sometime.
I think I'm harder on myself with poetry than prose. Rhythm and word choice are so instrumental to a poem's flight that one poor stroke can make it sink like a stone. I've yet to write a poem that really soared for me. One day.
But thank you for the vote of confidence! I really do appreciate it.
Thanks, casdok! I'm glad you came back. :)
I'm so full of praise that any comment I might make must seem unilaterally mundane. ;-)
Really nice poem!!!
My favorite lines>>>
'Let’s undress disguises,
And bid our hands dance,
Tunnel through language,
Tap a new romance.'
These will float through my mind on this lazy Sunday morning like a lotus on the shimmering sunrise superficies of a lonely lake.
If you write so well and think Paul writes even better, I must go check out his poetry.
Thanks for a poetic Sunday brunch. :-)
although it is fairly easy to get me to tear up, this did almost from the beginning. what a gift you have!
What a perfect blend of verse, love and humour. You demand in such a delightful way that everyone hold poetry dear. Applauding you!
Abhinav, I'll take any compliment, even mundane. But yours never are.
Thanks for sharing your brunch with me. :)
Hotwire, I don't usually enjoy making people cry. But here is an exception. Thank you so much! That is a dear thing to say.
Easywriter, so good to see you again. And I hope your mother is doing better. All of your comments have really brightened this grey Sunday morning for me. So thank you.
I'm so appreciative of everyone's lovely words!
:)
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