- Non-Erotic Poetry
- For Janis
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A wild henna mass of tangled hair,
glowing, sweat-drenched moonround face,
honey thick and dripping down a waxy comb.
She had her goddess moments,
eating microphones and wailing,
layering boas, bracelets and tattoos
to adorn her lush and glorious form.
No smile ever brighter, more alive
or more compelling.
Her voice, an instrument of god,
wide open feeling essence,
a grainy, gutteral lulluby.
No man would ever know
the fragile, tender heart that moved it
to its edge of madness and beyond
or how the fifth of Southern Comfort
seeped into the cracked open places
in her soul and filled the holes
where that radiant light moved
through her being
only wanting to be seen.
- COMMENTS
LeBrozabout 16 years agoThis poem was selected from Lit's archive of over 39,000 poems for inclusion in today's Archival Review.<br>
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PatCarringtonover 19 years agonot an easy subject to write on without going loose and overboard / that you held tight and maintained word restraint with JJ crawling and wailing around you is impressive /
sandspikeover 19 years agoI miss her to this day. This is a smooth work that
paints the truth about a goddness of music. I will
print this bad boy and put it in my Janis cd box.
Great work.
Angelineover 19 years agoReally nice flow to the words. It's so visual and the ending is just the right note--reminding us that there was a lonely person behind the persona. Thank you for posting it.
Ange
