Wednesday, 16 May 2012

Poetry lolz

Also, wrote these two poems: "Original Feminism" and "Mistress". They sort of act as companion pieces to one another. One lighthearted, the other incredibly, unthinkably emo... The latter is a bit rough but I mainly like the sounds, and the images which are there already. 

Original Feminism

“Psst, lass, slide on over here.
Let me whisper in your ear...
You sit all day beneath this tree
yet there’s something you cannot see.

The Big Fella's made you blind
to the state of your behind.
You're, starkers, bare, as plain as day,
Yet you think that this is the way.

Now, I am not so bad a guy
(Considerin’ I'm the devil's spy),
So I'll give you just a little hint,
How not to be an ignorant bint.”

“Sir, your tongue does flick so teasingly
inside my ear, and thus increasingly
reduces the fear you're a devilish fellow.
So, dear sir, please do impart that which you know...”

“I knew it! You filthy slattern.
You’ve eyes beyond dopey Adam!
No, don't go back on your coquettish ways now,
there's a way to make the most of them. Here's how…

Above your pretty head, in the tree that shades you
hangs luscious fruit; that which your maker bade you
not to eat, nor touch, but Eve, you must.
Stuff yourself until you're fit to bust!”

“Oh no, dear Sir! I could not possibly
go against the will of He who made me...
Oh, if you insist, maybe just a teeny taste,
seeing as it is dangling before my face.”

“That's the way, gal! Have a plum!
Don't you start to feel your bum
Shouldn’t be bare against the grass?
Do you feel ashamed and crass?

Don't cry chuck. Here, let me,
wind around your modesty.
Take some of these leaves, the fig is best.
You'll need more than that for such a chest!”

“I must admit, I feel somewhat improved
by not being so outrageously nude.
Although, I also find myself questioning
all of this praying, worship and prostrating.

I have my own opinions, mind and thoughts!
Well… I do, now that this apple has taught
me how to fight the patriarchy that insists
on considering me a walking pair of tits.”

“They're fine ones, aye, but you're no piece of meat
for God to perv at, and I think it is ‘reet
unfair! You've got so much more to give
you've a whole rack now, not just one rib.

Adam, after giving just one bone,
thinks you’re his: to have and own.
Take an apple over his way,
And then see what he has to say.

“Enlighten Adam? Are you mad!?
After the subservience I've had
to put up with from those two,
I intend to start a bloody coup!

It seems that you've got me all wrong
to think sexist praise and a bit o’ tongue
would get me to do your dirty work
by giving a brain to that daft twerp.

Now bugger off, you flaccid pest,
I'm off to find a pair of kecks...”


Your ring against my thigh is a solid gold reminder
of the usual comforting cold of sleeping alone:
Swept away by the crooked "O" of flesh and bone
you raise to show that there is nothing wrong with our meeting here,
belly to belly, in a room you did not know existed until last year
when you stayed here, halfway on your way to somewhere else.

In the morning, you are a fox, encasing my finger with a pink,
plush mouth. You encircle me with a tongue which “Ooh”s me your baby:
A misplaced thrashing animal, belonging neither in the sea,
nor my hands. A vivid roll which twitches, unfurls, flicks,
until, amid all that folding flesh, hot and thick,
my own thin band presents itself, stolen, solid and bright.
The silver, slick with saliva, reflects the copper crown
I know sits in the back of your mouth; a decaying pearl.
It tastes like rotten salt, sometimes sweetened by the cherry gum
You force into the hole. A ball of squashed putty tacked onto the eternal metal-
I can see it when you laugh. At your own jokes you become a Macaw, gaping
and making a dull, echoing sound
which lives in the walls
long after you’re gone:

Another reason to come to places I don’t belong.

Later, in my own home, sat on the floor reading the paper; I smell your spit
flowing through the fibres of my grandmother’s old ring, and I cringe.
After rinsing you away with a mouthful of water and puffed cheeks,
I hold it up to the light, newly virgin.
Forcing the band over my swollen knuckle, I married myself there
and felt it's metallic weight for the rest of the day.

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