- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Where the Little Devils Live
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There’s a devil in Tasmania
who spins my words around
hoping to trip
my tender lips
into a soft, wistful kiss.
There’s a place near Australia I won’t go
where the past hops along the lonely beat
of what’s left behind
and was never mine
to give or to receive.
There’s a bare shoulder here I won’t show
and a shrug to the secrets he will share
there’s nothing left
but a spun out past
and the promise that hope may appear.
That's where I spin my thoughts these days,
my dear.
- COMMENTS
WickedEvealmost 17 years agoI always like your poetry. It's different, interesting, a pleasure to read.
duckiesmutalmost 17 years agoI liked the feel of this but, that said, it feels a little weak in places. “tender lips”, “soft, wistful kiss”, and “lonely beat”, in my opinion, are expressions too often used to be worthy of your poetry. You know I like your writing, or I wouldn’t be bothering to leave a babbling comment. :)
The rhythm in this is delicious, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t catch it on the first read-through. I went around and around with the last sentence, and something feels not quite right about it. Fishy, if you will. It’s like trout that smells bad but you’re just not quite sure if you should toss it or not. It feels like there’s more to this poem that you edited out, or didn’t let out onto the paper. Or perhaps I need a nap. Maybe both?
Please do keep posting. And please do keep not being offended by honest opinions. It’s ever so refreshing. :)
