- Erotic Poetry
- Muses
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I summon the muses, the women, the lovers.
From silence I summon little-death-rattles of sound as it speaks,
as it captures the essence of chromatic, atonal, pentatonic songs.
I demand for a refuge to stash in my volumes, my memories,
sonorities, textbooks, aggressions, world-view philosophies, bones.
I am torn, as the night settles in, between drinkers of fire,
of acid, of blood,
of lazy arousals in mornings of cold.
There are differences of texts, of souls, of paths,
of long readings and shouts.
To luck, leave no place.
In the twilight, I linger on shapes, on clothes, on skins.
On lips that warm up the tenderness.
There are passionate dresses and lipsticks
that inflame faces in search of blood-lacquered lips.
I prefer your eyes. They are the path I choose.
The fire.
- COMMENTS
Tzaraover 17 years agoI really like this one. My only question is about "chromatic, atonal, pentatonic songs". I'm not a musician, but I would have thought "chromatic" and "pentatonic" would be mutually exclusive.
Really good poem.
LeBrozover 17 years agoThe muses have heard you in this hot-blooded write.
Saw this on the 30/30 thread and immediately thought,
This should be posted for all to see ~
A real poem for the survivor realm;
Now all you need do is get your 30/30 ticket punched.
And I'll concur here, this is one really hot nonerotic piece, going from an appeal to the muses to finding the lover with qualities you seek.
normal jeanover 17 years agoso luck is outta luck!!
you list this as non erotic, well, I found it rather intoxicating and woman, you're on fire!!
thoroughly enjoyed the pace of this one and the commanding tone. very well done, Ms Hynde
