sex object. not afraid of the words.
I've used many objects for the sake of sex.
in fact my body has been pretty disposable-
I don't really mind it being used as
an "it" or a "thing" or a "that"
I've been cataloged and numbered-
like a returned book.
none of this is new to me.
but when my mind becomes saturated
with the secret darkness of manipulation
and it is slimy with half-truths
and unbelievably trite poetics.
forgive me, but this I will not stand for.
use me up and leave me out in heat.
but leave my poor mind, in tact.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
-
hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
-
two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
-
husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
-
as I left the waterfront and I climbed up the sandy stair as always his brothers were first; to greet me. I've had past dealings with th...
-
Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
-
Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
The mind is the most important sex organ we have.
ReplyDelete(Ever heard of a mind-fuck?) ;)
Interesting perspective the disconnection of mind and body to keep some salvation. Evocative write ~ Rose
ReplyDeleteI agree with Eric. A mind-fuck is just as important. I also agree that I am not bothered by my body being used as an it, or a thing. I find it powerfully stimulating to be "used" in a passionate need. Manipulated is another matter. Slimy half truths are sorry excuses for transparency. And now we've come full circle back to mind-fuck!
ReplyDeleteWell done poem, and an interesting response to the prompt. Good one, Amy!
ReplyDeleteSo raw and open like a wound! I liked it :D
ReplyDeleteSad. The poor object is a witness to the baser qualities of humans. I like the way you've brought it out.
ReplyDeleteI like the combination of emotions... How you seem relaxed with so much, but then really says 'enough' when someone tries to f*ck with your mind. Powerful read! I really like it!
ReplyDelete;) thanks!
ReplyDeleteoh yes to this. yes yes yes.
ReplyDeleteDana :)
ReplyDelete