- Non-Erotic Poetry
- raw material
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Click heresitting naked
cold studio floor
among other raw material
wire cage frame
plaster and drill press
oils and other slippery things
you shape me,
pinched into tight places
painted in goldenrod
with stream fresh cat tail brushes
scrabble squares pressed
into place
you count your points
across my back
strands of snipped hair glued
my scent smeared
into thick paint
permission to ask the artist:
does your master piece
follow a master plan
blueprint and beta version
sketch and measure?
is discarded hardness to come?
final destination behind a line
of shell empty prototypes
dry whispers between crumbling faces
dry sockets watch moist movement
of new raw material.
she still remembers how to squirm
- COMMENTS
jthserraabout 20 years agothe art of art in words... excellent.
should master piece be one word here?
inspiring poem...
jim : )
Angelineabout 20 years agoThe metaphor and the act are one in your poem. I love the way it is written; this is about as good as it gets:
is discarded hardness to come?
final destination behind a line
of shell empty prototypes
dry whispers between crumbling faces
dry sockets watch moist movement
of new raw material.
I love how you've layered meaning and image here--really well done. :)
annaswirlsabout 20 years agosounds like a hot studio for a shy girl, Sibilaire! Firey with the fear of the cooling.
