- Erotic Poetry
- Folio 34R
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As young Mike O'Brien ponders the Word
Made Flesh in the Book of Kells exhibit
he wonders if the monk preferred snakes
more than Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.
The flourishes made him think of a serpent
with Eve in the Garden of Eden,
the sun going down and for some reason
a dark bulbous mushroom burgeoning.
Tonight he will think of Mary Postanak
and wonder why, confused in his bed,
such ancient colored pigments on vellum
make his blood feel like it swells in his head.
- COMMENTS
OpenFieldabout 10 years agoUnusual and interesting metaphor. The Celtic knot as serpent, desire for joining of the bodies, and perhaps the confusion or twisting of guilt as well. Your poems are always well conceived and written.
todski28about 10 years agoDamn, second butters comments, the reference guide the thoughts perfectly in an understated way, and the undercurrent implications are very interpretational.
buttersabout 10 years agosinuous, sensuous, capturing the stirring of the blood, dark secret places in one's head and how religious repression of sexuality can only serves to heighten it, though it grows in the dark and moist shame rather than in the god-light of day.
