you cannot fit your entire head
then body into my vagina Edward...
poem birthing yourself
requires surrender, trust
and a more skillful pick to lock...
you can crow here
all you want
once you have the key...
-------------------------------
again I know nothing
but what feels
torn fabric
clutched paper right
but having no basis
for comparison
I am just going
on hunches and gut
and my diet is nothing
to shout home about...
so I sing
playfully ignore
the real world around me
watching to pretend
the decay begins to bloom...
by the cemetery once
I heard a melody
"...if I could have true
the sweet scent of you
on my chin, grinning
lovingly sinning
counting from seven
then yes my heaven
you improve the view..."
but I am caught
in the headlights
stag to leap
not quick enough
road kill likelihood
a lately johnny
apple-seed-ing
the bee stings...
here I am
warm mud by the fire
patting over the trembling(s)...
my knees and palms
are cut from crawling
over your broken glass virtuosity
time eats time then starts to eat again I see
so I say to myself in childhood roam
stay inside all the sad parts of your poem
you'll hear them:
we're bleeding
you're bleeding
eventually one voice honed...
I'm bleeding
I'mb leeding
I'mble eding
I'mblee ding
I'mbleed ing
I'mbleedi ng
I'mbleedin g
I'mbleeding
I am bleeding you again...
EJR ©
How on earth could I forget THAT?!
ReplyDeleteThe word "Fellini" makes me think of falling into someone's belly button. :)
Love:
"you can crow here
all you want
once you have the key"
"but what feels
torn fabric
clutched paper right" ... This is like when people were always tearing their clothes in the Bible to express sorrow. But also, it's when you're just having just a great time at a dance party that you have to like rip open your shirt or something. Or maybe rip a girl's dress off.
"but having no (as opposed to yes) basis
for comparison"
"and my diet is nothing" This is the best feeling in the world to me. Especially when you start to get lightheaded and dizzy. Pure bliss.
"...if I could have true
the sweet scent of you
on my chin, grinning
lovingly sinning
counting from seven
then yes my heaven
you improve the view..." ... Ha ha ha. This makes me think of our friend Grace, who also goes by Heaven and Scarlet. Have you found her other blog yet? You will love it.
"a lately johnny
apple-seed-ing" ... I love what you did here with "Johnny Come Lately" and "Johnny Appleseed."
"here I am
warm mud by the fire
patting over the trembling(s)" Ha ha ha. I'm not a child, Edward.
That last stanza is crazy clever. I love the way the bleeding ties into the opening, like this is a metaphorical miscarriage, which makes it all so sad ... but let's just not. Stay in the sad parts of the poem. Let's find the happy parts instead.