- Erotic Poetry
- Organ Stool
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Click hereThe unplugged Jesus,
from a piano stool
I follow his eyes — sweat, cold
lager, and smokes. Into the offering plate,
ash falls with salvation.
From Father's abandoned house,
clawfoot, swivel sin goes with us.
No keys,
absent chords,
but I mount the stout organ
stool, shouting Allegro, you bastard!
to my lover.
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copyright d. dixon
august 2008
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- COMMENTS
unpredictablebijouover 15 years agoyou've done it again. I keep saying, if I ever manage to write something this stellar and concise I get to go to poet heaven like you do. I liked both pieces today but anything that has both sex and religion in it and is still GOOD is definitely going to catch my attention.
Tzaraover 15 years agothough there are parts of this one I find confusing. I get confused in the first strophe about whether you're following the eyes of the unplugged Jesus or your lover (carrying it?). One of the things I like about your poems, though, is how they seem to me to have a kind of non-rational narrative (of course, it could be I simply am to dim to follow what you've written). They end up being very dreamlike because of that, in a good way. As Equinoxe said, the penultimate line is very funny.
normal jeanover 15 years agoyour poetry, enlightening, giving a subject life. I hope you realize that you're good, <i>really</i> good.
~
julie
Safe_Betover 15 years agoYou can't write something that I wouldn't admire, but this one is really special. Fantastic symbolism, a touch of sarcastic wit and wonderful compact lines. Too good!
