Okay, so I know this is going to be bad, but I am writing this in response to Ticia's poem. I have never been able to write poetry that rhymes, or is any good at all, so this is my version of a love poem....Ready Ticia?
Their eyes meet,
Their bodies strangers,
Their souls one.
They fall into each other as though they have always been,
Hands reaching,
Bodies arching,
Mouths searching,
Again and again for each other.
They pull,
They push,
They pry,
Until there is nothing between them,
No distinct line between where she ends and he begins.
Her hands in his hair,
His mouth on her breast,
A warm tongue searches out the soft spot,
Somewhere between heaven and nowhere.
Eyes flash,
Skin shines with the light dew of passion.
Her scent is intoxicating,
His taste like honey on her lips.
He takes her,
Gently at first,
Softly,
Sweetly,
Slowly.
And in her he loses himself,
And he forgets that he loves,
And he forgets that he hurts,
And he forgets that he lives.
And all that is,
Or ever was,
Or ever will be,
Is here.
Is in his hands.
And they fuck,
And they fuck to feel,
And they fuck to forget,
And they fuck to fight back,
Against all the chains they have gathered around themselves.
And the tide rolls over them,
And they can not fight it,
And they choose not to fight it,
And they drown there in each other.
And still he seeks her,
Her warmth,
Her breath,
Her life that she offers to him willingly.
And he takes all that she has to give,
Her love,
Her soul.
And in their renewed joining she cries out,
And he derives his pleasure from her small pain,
And he fills her with his heat,
And he fills her with himself.
And his hands caress her hair,
And his mouth tells her that everything will be okay.
And she takes his hand, and follows him,
To that lonely place,
To that place where they can be.
Just be.
And they reach that place together,
And she giggles,
And he sighs,
And the phone beeps,
Beeps,
Beeps out a warning.
An intrusion on the warmth they share,
An invasion of their time together,
A reminder that they can not belong,
And he says I love you,
And she says I love you, and hangs up the phone.
Ha, told you it would be bad. Shame on my teachers for allowing me to get away with shit like that all those years at school. Okay Ticia, Tag, you're it! That's all, bye.
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2 comments:
I thought it was grrrrrrrrrr eat! Tony the Tiger I am! Anyways, there are many types of poetry and some of the best poetry doesn't rhyme. Sometimes my poems are juvenile but it makes me feel good and that's why I do it. And sometimes, I write and laugh at myself. And sometimes, I write and think of others laughing, but mostly I write with the tides of my emotions. Not for recognition or accolades but to release inner torrent torment of thoughts and emotions. You on the other hand wrote and awesome poem where I could see and feel the emotions at the same time. You were able to make something that would be erotic literature into something quite beautiful. How does one make the word "Fuck" appropriate in a poem? Well done!
Lmao, Ticia are you sure you were not one of my high school English teachers? I used to parade shit like that out for them, and watch them lap it up like a kitten drinking milk from a bowl. I believe I used words like "fuck" in my poetry even back then. I was told a time or two that it was "inappropriate", but i still always managed the A. Ha, Loving ya! Hugs, Dawn
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