March 23, 2016

what she said to prometheus

Andre De Dienes - 'Nude Montage', 1956 



"i'll chain myself to a crag too 
inside cauldron theater 
pleasingly eating you..."

i wear her posterior between 
the paddling(s) and plump(s) 
plum age and plunder 
asunder and surrender

she dressed cowl and salt lick 
asked if she was delicious enough 
to spoon the honey yet 
and would i mind 
putting the kettle 
on for tea 

the nighthawks 
are gathering 
on the old lodge pine poles 
out back and i'm waiting with them
to capture the leaps from tall grass 
of lyrical leggy song-ed insects...

see how they skim she said between sips 
i nodded noticed they worked the underbelly 
bat orchestrations, gloaming keen 
forked tongue shrill and tail 
dart gather and lean...

what kinds of birds do you like, she asks 
i trace my forefinger across her knee 
slowly raising my eyes to see an expression 
my nose already knows, as i say

there beyond your carnage 
of crickets, hoppers 
and past this 
wood frame and glass 
is something that reminds me 
of a woman's ass
there in a wee marsh 
that feeds the river 
and eventually the sea
are freshwater reeds 
cattails and canary grass mostly 
and inside them 
readying for bed is 
a plump 
of waterfowl 
and their needs 

they are clock work too 
i suppose like you 
and your little raptors 

right now they shimmy and press 
slow coal glow grinding 
the day into diamonds 
bottom-ing out where 
evening is singing 
quiet darkening 
warm up notes 
and is beginning 
to listen to us now
because we are 
loud dancers at night
and the window's open 
wishing again we knew 
the mathematics of wings...


EJR ©

22 comments:

  1. This is ripe and lush and full of fecund imagery. This is you, poet, at your best...

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    Replies
    1. sometimes, when this poet actually starts to listen, I am lucky enough to be gifted by all these incredible muses that are interspersed throughout the Universe...

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  2. Replies
    1. Thank You...sometimes I luckily catch myself paying attention with a keyboard or a pen on the ready...

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  3. Lush is a good word for this. And I love how you went from birds to raptors toards the end. Also, "grinding the day into diamonds" is a pretty cool line.

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    1. little scents that draw the softening warmth of flowing blood into the hardest parts of us...ooh, good prompt you...gratitude...

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  4. I admire the conversations between the two and specially the ending lines:

    slow coal glow grinding
    the day into diamonds
    bottom-ing out where
    evening is singing
    quiet darkening

    This is certainly more than just about the gathering of nighthawks ~ Superb write Edward ~

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    Replies
    1. portals open and close bubbles and blooms all the time, all we've to do is surrender sometimes...elliptical chances taken as playing in the color schemes of awe...yeah, you can say I like to look at the stars and dream...many thanks for stopping in...

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  5. This is just overflowing with images, thoughts...all the senses. These lines spoke to me:
    "the nighthawks
    are gathering
    on the old lodge pine poles
    out back and i'm waiting with them
    to capture the leaps from tall grass
    of lyrical leggy song-ed insects..."
    Like Grace said, there is much more here than the activities of the nighthawks.
    Gayle ~

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    1. to me, magic adheres to vision if we're willing to close our eyes...
      I was merely trying to loose garment lens an emotional scented spiritual state that had sexy bits sprinkled throughout...incorrigible satyr poet at times am I...thank you for commenting...and stopping by

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  6. I love this:

    "plum age and plunder
    asunder and surrender

    she dressed cowl and salt lick
    asked if she was delicious enough"

    But no "one" ever is.

    "to capture the leaps from tall grass" What if she's not "leaping ... in-sex" anymore? (Very clever, by the way.)

    I already told you this is my favorite part:
    "what kinds of birds do you like, she asks
    i trace my forefinger across her knee
    slowly raising my eyes to see an expression
    my nose already knows"

    "there in a wee marsh
    that feeds the river
    and eventually the sea
    are freshwater reeds" ... I don't know why, but today, the we-marsh that feeds everything else is just made of tears.

    "readying for bed is" ... In this, I see "re-dying, red, bed eyes." Crying herself to sleep.

    Still ... this made me smile:
    "a plump" ... Which is a P-lump, which is her clitoris ... and it also makes me think of the song "My Humps" by The Black-Eyed Peas. ... So "waterfowl" or foul water would be some related kind of gush. :P

    "they are clock work too" This is a Clockwork Orange reference.

    "slow coal glow grinding" I like this line, the way it sounds, the image.

    "bottom-ing out where" Very funny, going back to the bum at the beginning.

    "evening is singing
    quiet darkening" It is.

    "wishing again we knew
    the mathematics of wings" I do. ~Wish I knew.

    Incredible poem, Edward. Sorry I've "bottomed out" today. My lows are as low as my highs are high. They're tough to survive.

    Oh, but the cowl and salt lick outfit ... that was probably my favorite part. Earlier today, it was a hood and sweat, but tonight it's a blanket and tears. That's the magic of poetry; it means something completely different every time you read it. Thank you for writing this; it's inspired everyone to up their game, I'm sure.

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    1. daughter of electra

      iris spread wings
      her poems in rainbows
      after the storms
      Dexter Gordon on a 33
      it smells of damp dust
      slate grey back sky lit
      rust and fire
      you say can you taste
      the poems outside
      beading up on things
      thirsty for the sun


      thank you for saying such
      not sure about the upping the game part
      I think of myself as more selfish
      less inspirational but I do appreciate
      hearing it said...

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    2. daughter of electra

      iris spread wings
      her poems in rainbows
      after the storms
      Dexter Gordon on a 33
      it smells of damp dust
      slate grey back sky lit
      rust and fire
      you say can you taste
      the poems outside
      beading up on things
      thirsty for the sun


      thank you for saying such
      not sure about the upping the game part
      I think of myself as more selfish
      less inspirational but I do appreciate
      hearing it said...

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    3. the universe wanted me to say that twice

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  7. Oh, and that girl has some huge nipples.

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  8. This is a wonderful rich conversation - brimming with tethered passion.. Just like that fire

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    1. yes I am prone to thieving the squeeze of night beneath the dawn...gratitude

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  9. I love the sound bumps you've uncovered here. Words just adore each other sometimes, and it is a true pleasure to read their couplings.
    I especially love this thought:
    "wishing again we knew
    the mathematics of wings"

    YES.

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    Replies
    1. my inner Icarus...I tend to sneak it into a lot of poems...

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    2. Thank you. :) It's such fun when the things that delight me also delight others. I loved reading everybody's inspiration on this prompt.

      And I, too, am a lover of Icarus. Just wrote about him again last week, actually. ;)

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    3. You're welcome, and yes Icarus and Persephone would make beautiful dance partners with their opposite directional flowing dynamics, clock wise clock fool counter late at night bright white neon diner on a spinning no back seat...good sub-textual prompt...

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  10. Art and muse
    one iN liFe
    without
    as death
    iN art
    oF paint
    and words..
    and yeah.. baby..
    i take advantage of
    iT too.. the max.. and
    It sHows In word
    count
    and photos
    trUe.. tHeRe iS
    a science to creatiViTy..
    leave out the sex..
    and tHeir
    Is not
    much
    depth..
    of what
    makes
    iT aLL..:)

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