this week, five words from the ominous voice of ms. sylvia plath.
Daring
marble
freakish
tongue
obscene
enjoy your anonymity. in this time of "look at me", youve chosen to keep it real.
fun writing.
7 comments:
Axe Parker
said...
THINKING OF SYLVIA PLATH
well the first thing to know is you've got to get going got to get the obscene scene spread out in your mind like a deck of tarot cards with heavy times wild times rhymes that won't stay put followed by the hard core night Sylvia Plath was a daring woman, her words of depression, anger, father, told and untold, the soul, such pain in the heart such danger to split the psyche like marble a tongue of freaks, a freakish tongue water is the healing thought midnight is the backyard moon waiting and we hope for ease not like Sylvia going down her head in the oven hoping for rescue rescue rescue
Desire- The moment, and feeling daring, I let my tongue explore Beneath her skirt.
The sweet beckoning space between Her soft thighs (Fresh lotus blooms-river water- Slow, lustful current)
Her clitoris swollen- A Hard marble against My moving tongue.
Her moans at first low, but Building to a freakish volume- causing Several lonely heads on the bus To turn around. (Their window-flash hypnosis Now gone.)
Their focus now on us, the couple In the back seat.
Her desire expanding I continued, My tongue rotating in Soft, slow circles- she pulled my Head hard against her And came with a loud Affirmative moan.
Eyes floating dead in the overhead mirror, The bus driver stopped--the hiss of air brakes- yelled, “HEY, YOU TWO!! KNOCK IT OFF!
Now almost everyone Was turned toward us, Their eyes obscene and accusing- or curious and lost.
Amanda just laughed, And pulled my face to hers.
We kissed long and hard.
The bus began rolling again, through the dirty city at 2am- down streets polluted with regret, unreason, and cold hearts.
I lie on rose-tinted marble in silent summer sun… no shade desired… dreaming of rain…
the scene may seem obscene to some tongues…sunk deep in reflecting worlds…
and perhaps it does have its sideshow vision…this happening…this ‘freakish’ decision… as…gradually…I horizontally transform all visible flesh into burning crimson and white ice…evenly divided…
“daring…” they may say, “daring…but…" and so it is that the predictions are repeated and repeated…
still…
I lie on marble… in summer sun… no shade desired… dreaming of rain.
7 comments:
THINKING OF SYLVIA PLATH
well the first thing to know
is you've got to get going
got to get the obscene scene
spread out in your mind
like a deck of tarot cards
with heavy times wild times
rhymes that won't stay put
followed by the hard core night
Sylvia Plath was a daring woman,
her words of depression, anger,
father, told and untold, the soul,
such pain in the heart such danger
to split the psyche like marble
a tongue of freaks, a freakish tongue
water is the healing thought
midnight is the backyard moon
waiting and we hope for ease
not like Sylvia going down
her head in the oven hoping
for rescue rescue rescue
PLUSHIE
the morning light burns
an obscene blackness
and void
ace of hearts
she likes vision
marble lips burning tongue
say it again
ace of hearts
benadryl benadryl benadryl
reduce the histamines
ace of joy
ace of now
ace of that's how it's put together
he's upset now
I'm upset too
flamingo dies softly
each severed limb whispers
a gentle waba waba
freakish farewell
daring the day back into night
ALLEY WAY
power begins
freakish dog
heart attack alley
California night fence
hair in ribbons
modern dance shadows
squirming
stonefruit
carved in marble
only the tongue is free
statue of the night
silver tongue -- SPEAK
hobos scream obscenities
but that's not obscene
we arrive daring
dyslexia sucks
chanting is truth
dog drawn to the beat of the drum
Epidemiology
strip away the words
reveal the meaning
raw marble
awaiting the sculptor
what is the form
what is the meaning
pure daring
the blow is struck
slip of the knife
slip of the tongue
irretrievable
obscene
cut away the flesh
expose the meaning
the freakish beauty of what lies beneath
INNOCENT
Eyes daring tongue
into acrobatics
slippery
Hand displacing lilac skirt
exposing marble skin
tickley
The obscene yet to come
it was not
freakish
Only new
( TO BE
READ ALOUD, slowly)
Desire-
The moment,
and
feeling daring,
I let my tongue explore
Beneath her skirt.
The sweet
beckoning space
between
Her soft thighs
(Fresh lotus blooms-river water-
Slow, lustful current)
Her clitoris swollen-
A Hard marble against
My moving tongue.
Her moans at first
low, but
Building to a freakish volume-
causing
Several lonely heads
on the bus
To turn around.
(Their window-flash hypnosis
Now gone.)
Their focus now on us,
the couple
In the back seat.
Her desire expanding
I continued,
My tongue rotating in
Soft, slow circles-
she pulled my
Head hard against her
And came with a loud
Affirmative moan.
Eyes floating dead in the
overhead mirror, The bus driver stopped--the hiss of air brakes- yelled,
“HEY, YOU TWO!! KNOCK IT OFF!
Now almost everyone
Was turned toward us,
Their eyes obscene and accusing-
or curious and lost.
Amanda just laughed,
And pulled my face to hers.
We kissed long and hard.
The bus began rolling again,
through the dirty city at 2am-
down streets polluted with
regret, unreason, and cold hearts.
I lie on rose-tinted marble
in silent summer sun…
no shade desired…
dreaming of rain…
the scene may seem obscene to some
tongues…sunk deep in reflecting worlds…
and perhaps it does have its sideshow
vision…this happening…this ‘freakish’ decision…
as…gradually…I horizontally transform all visible flesh
into burning crimson and white ice…evenly divided…
“daring…” they may say, “daring…but…"
and so it is that the predictions are repeated and repeated…
still…
I lie on marble…
in summer sun…
no shade desired…
dreaming of rain.
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