13 Jun 2008

Poesy Rider! Part Deux

I find that I am rather good at writing poesy, so I thought I'd treat you to my next 'stab' - who was it that said poetry should be like a hand, it can punch or caress? I don't know, but I do know it should also be like a knife to stab.

leave I am happy!
he (flaunting)
female tendrils encircle
"Why do I want you?"
considering females rather as sauvignon blanc
And I at maturity.
a misery I deplore; my place in the world,
planted in too rich a chantilly cream
you left me drinking
why not leave me my dactyls
“It’s subject to work sweet princess?" "Don't!”
spirits, and I have sighed
their abilities and virtues would
with anxious solicitude, education, and
between man and man, cleave respect.
back into the misery
I deplore; and to have arrived
at dawn rising
planted in too rich a soil
obliged to confess,
why did he leave
around about my thighs
are the most melancholy emotions
and I have sighed from one hasty patiently observed moment,
after having pleased a clawing womb
why did he…
a nobler ambition, and by a fastidious eye, fade, disregarded
screaming out
why did my womb ache like a
back breaking labia

1 comment:

  1. There is something very moving about this. Tell me, where you unlucky in love? Pick yourself up and dust yourself off sista, he/she ain't worth it!