I imagine those derelict hotels
where you wrap filthy words
around your frigid lover's tongue.
The place your shadow curls,
I send my cashmere draped ghazal
as a woolen reminder
to keep you tender and virginal
before our intents become defunct stations
rustic hands sedate
and insect eyes cheapen.
19 May 08
Rated 8.5 (7.4) by 8 users.
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frigid lover? wooden reminder?
Sexually unresponsive. wooden reminder= tangible, Capable of being treated as fact
i know what frigid means. would one keep a lover who was frigid? what would be the point? a spouse maybe, but not a lover.
a cashmere draped poem/song is soft not hard as expressed by wooden. maybe woolen.
yes. it is pointless. but not everything is done for a point.
agreed. a cashmere draped poem/song is soft but its sole purpose is a reminder as tangible as wood/pebble/stone/a dried leaf as a bookmark.
ahuh... cant be woollen.
wow. just didnt notice the 10s at all.
thanks good unknowns.
your titles are snappy -- l9 seems to have pluralsy and though Poesy's along it could be stronger -- l11 is ingenious and wraps the Poem in it's intended metaphor well 'I imagine those derelict hotels where insect eyes cheapen' -- mmm
Your poetry is extemely inspiring these days, my friend. You paint with words so that readers can visualize the scapes you put into verse. L's 5-7 are brilliant in their "naughtiness," if you will. I like the way tenderness and hardness are juxtaposed here. It's animalistic and it's gentle all at the same time in perfect balance. You go, boy!
Yes. Very well crafted.
obviously about the influence and love between banditfemme and hinduhomme
thanks starr, alchemia and pauls, your presence here is honored.
those insect eyes...!
a well verse piece of sordid reality, nicely written and beautiful imagery
woaah long time mongrol. thanks mate.
and thank you good moderator.
I hope this is a personal message.
it's really, really good.
Dink you jen!
Trochee is this your poem or banditfemme?
Oh sweet unknown i take that as a compliment.
ghazal as totem is a breathtaking image. I'm intrigued by the rustic hands. They sound capable. Lovely to walk through an unforeign landscape.
Oooh... more whore vs. virgin imagery. I like the duality. Did a person u know turn into a sex worker before your eyes? You seem to be so in touch with that phenomenon.
That was me ^^^ Guess u have to be logged in to rate something...
Thank you stranger.
Save one of your poems for me so I can burn it...NEXT!!!
It^s a fuckinn turn on
thank you Hulda!
Haha derelict hotel is perfectly fitting, tell me trochee, prophecy?
ostrich eggs emerge from alarmingly stretched holes; no matter, your pursed, prune lips compensate.
your egg is bigger than your brain.
"woolen" it is.